Steam, snow & Bri

Since summer, I’ve moved to a new part of the city, which means I no longer live with Bri. I sometimes miss living with her, but we’ve become better friends since I moved. A few weeks ago she called me out of the blue to invite me along for a trip to some nearby hotsprings. I accepted, remembering our last lazy naked day spent there, and agreed to meet at her place the next morning.

When I rolled up on my bike, Bri was loading her car with all manner of supplies. “You planning on staying up there for a while?” I joked.

“Lock up your bike, smartass,” she replied. “I just like to be prepared.”

I followed her into the house to help carry the last of the supplies, and as I glanced down I was reminded of the way she would drive me crazy walking around the house in her skirts, her ass jiggling as she walked. I could follow her around all day.

We hit the road shortly thereafter, en route to pick up her friend Olivia, who would be coming along. I was pleased that Olivia was joining us, as she and Bri were very physical together, and we would after all be spending the better part of the day naked. She’s also an incredibly attractive woman, way tall, great curves — and I had never seen her naked.

Olivia was ready and waiting when we got to her house, standing in the driveway looking like a hitchhiker from the seventies, arms crossed and hips cocked. She kissed both of us on the cheek as she jumped into the back seat. As I recall, she grew up with money in Brooklyn. Very fond of kissing, those people.

“So where are you taking me, Bri?” She asked as we took off. “All you said on the phone was that there’d be water and I wouldn’t need a bathing suit.”

“Sounds about right,” Bri said, smirking at me. “All you need is that fine ass of yours and the rest of the day off.”

The drive up into the mountains to the hotsprings took an hour or so, and we ended up having to hike the last bit on account of unplowed roads. But we made it. Approaching the springs, we were welcomed by thick clouds of steam drifting through the forest. The three of us like space-people, scouting this strange new world.

In the sixties, some clever folks had built an ewok-village of sorts surrounding the springs, with ducts feeding steaming water to wooden tubs. Bri was the first to get naked once we picked a tub. She threw off her clothes and began dancing around the tub, her white feet squishing into the snow-covered moss. Olivia and I watched Bri’s beautiful body bounce and sway for a minute before we followed suit.

Things on display

It was the end of July, and the southern California heat was proving to be too much for Will. Since the semester ended, he had stayed in touch with a girl from his Psych class named Angie who he’d messed around with a few times. She lived in Portland, and extended an open invitation to come stay with her family for a weekend over the summer. He decided to take her up on the offer.

Will arrived at the Amtrak station to find Angie waiting with her mother. From across the station, Angie’s mother looked like a taller replica of her daughter. They were both brunette and athletic, toned yet curvaceous. He found himself attracted to Angie’s mother in the same way he was attracted to Angie, as if they were the same person. Angie hugged Will and introduced him to her mom, Karen. They all piled into a new-looking Volvo and drove off.

Back at Angie’s house, she introduced Will to her father, Tom. They shook hands. The house was big for three people, cleverly decorated, and furnished in 60s mod. Strange town, Will thought.

“Tomorrow we can go to the beach with my family,” Angie said, after dinner. “I think you’ll like it.”

From the moment Will had seen Angie that afternoon he wanted her. He remembered clearly what her body looked like naked, and he wanted to feel her hands wrapped around his erection again, he wanted to take her rosy nipples into his mouth, and he wanted to watch her sweet face look up at him as she sucked him. He was also turned on by how much Karen looked like her daughter. Their voices even sounded the same.

That night, after Angie playfully denied his quiet advancements in her bedroom, Will snuck into the bathroom and silently masturbated to the thought of Angie’s soft mouth and her mother’s watching eyes. He imagined the two of them nude, side by side, mirroring one another’s movements as they caressed their soft breasts and twirled their matching nipples. As he came, he imaged them both cooing soft words in unison.

A word of encouragement

“Take off your clothes,” she said after letting me in. We’d never met, but for the last week we had been discussing plans for today over email.

I did as I was told, as I had agreed to do, and she watched. She watched as I pulled my shirt up over my head, and as I stepped out of my jeans.

“Now the rest,” she said, pointing to my boxers. Something stirred in there as she pointed, but I didn’t begin to harden. I was still a bit nervous for that. Nonetheless, I tossed off my boxers and stood before her completely nude. I watched the way she looked me up and down like I was a statue that brought her pleasure. “Now go sit on the couch.”

She sat across the room from me on a wooden chair, legs crossed, eyebrow cocked. I took the opportunity to look her — my boss for the time being — up and down as well. She was older than me by quite a bit, tall and voluptuous. She wore an airy lavender skirt and a creamy light blouse, unbuttoned enough to give me lovely glimpses of her deep cleavage as she shifted.

“Now,” she said, as if she had to ponder what to say next, as if we hadn’t already decided that. “Let’s see you get all nice and hard.”

I sat back on the couch and tried to relax, tried to calm my heart by telling myself this was what I wanted, what I had asked for (indeed, it was), so I looked at her as I took my soft penis in my hand and began to stroke its surface. I caressed my balls with the other hand. Although I enjoyed the sensations, and was very aroused by her presence, I got no reaction from my penis.

A few minutes of this and she cleared her throat. “Maybe you need a little help,” she said, not at all as a question. She unbuttoned the remaining buttons of her blouse and parted the fabric, revealing to me her large breasts cupped rather nobly in an impressive push-up bra.

“That helps,” I said quietly as I resumed stroking my now growing penis. As she squeezed and jiggled her confined breasts for me I continued to grow, until at last I sat proudly before her with a solid erection. The smirk crossing her lips told me she liked what she saw.

“Now let’s see you jerk that thing off.”

Her vengeful hands

The cafe had closed twenty minutes ago and M was nearly done cleaning up. He was alone in the darkened shop, thinking about the day’s events. One of his coworkers, a girl about five years older, had been especially flirtatious, and M found himself starting to stiffen thinking about her as he cleaned the espresso machine.

She had touched him at every opportunity it seemed, and had at one point rubbed her breasts against his shoulders as she squeezed past him. He was imagining the feeling of her breasts against his body — he could remember each individually — which made him continue to stiffen under his apron. The situation presented only one problem: M shared a small studio apartment with a friend, and knew that once he got home there would be no privacy. He really needed to get himself off though. Glancing toward the bathroom, he decided quickly to masturbate before leaving work.

Once he finished his work, M stepped into the men’s bathroom and closed the door behind him. As he unzipped and pulled down his pants, his erection sprung out readily. Soon, he was working into a steady rhythm, thinking about the girl and her firm, generously pert tits. It felt good to rub his cock after a long day of sexual frustration. He grunted and closed his eyes, his coworker dancing topless against his eyelids.

Just as the first thoughts of orgasm entered his mind, the door sprung open, and M found himself face to face with Irma, the generously kind, attractive woman who cleaned the floors and linens at night.

Hard cocks at the nude beach

Over the summer I made a few trips via ferry out to Gunnison Beach in Jersey. The dunes and wide beaches were a welcome diversion from the sticky hot city. As were the crowds of naked New Yorkers.

My first visit was with a group of friends — which was a great, sunny, nude day — but what I really want to tell you about is my second visit, when I went alone. It was a Saturday and the beach was packed with shiny naked people. People swimming, people sleeping, people kissing, people showing off their bodies, people gazing at others’ bodies. I stripped down right away and took a walk along the beach, to survey the scene.

My end of the beach was a pretty even mix of men and women, and I stopped to watch a group of college girls splash around in the waves. I had to be careful not to watch their bodies too closely, not to notice the way their firm little breasts bounced as they jumped. I didn’t want to get a hardon right there in front of them, a hundred yards away from my clothes, with no way of hiding it. I moved on.

As I moved down the beach the number of men increased, especially the number of groups of men. I started to notice men here and there staring at me, checking me out. They glanced down at my dick and back up at me, smiling. I didn’t mind, so I just kept on walking, my cock and balls swaying softly from side to side.

At some point, the guarded beach ended and the people thinned out. There were only people like me left, strolling. I walked quite a distance down the beach, enjoying the sun and the breeze on my naked body. Enjoying the small thrill of passing people and thinking, I’m naked right now. They’re naked. We just saw each other naked. I thought of what it would be like to pass the same people on the street sometime, and to remember what their bodies looked like without their clothes.

And then I came upon two guys swimming near the shore. They were laughing. One of them stood up and I saw that he had a full erection. I smiled at him and kept walking. I wanted to turn back and watch them. Something about his hardon and the other guy’s presumed hardon was so fascinating to me. It was the juxtaposition of the public beach, the nudity and the arousal I think that got me so curious. I turned around, pretending to look back at something else, and the standing guy called to me, “Hey, you wanna take a swim?”

Young liberated women, Part 1

Over the weekend I visited an old friend in Philadelphia. She goes to a small liberal arts school there, and lives with three of her classmates. In all, there’s Jenn (my friend), Quinn, Rebecca and Tati. Jenn warned me before I left Brooklyn that her roommates were rather liberated women, which after a bit of questioning turned out to mean often naked. That’s fine, I said, I’m not one to be offended by a little nudity.

I arrived friday night to find the girls drinking sangria in their unreasonably hot and muggy apartment. Jenn introduced me, showed me around, and explained that Tati is morally opposed to air conditioners. “You’re lucky we’re all fully clothed,” she said. “Most nights like this we’d have stripped down by now.” Lucky indeed, I though.

Back in the living room I was handed a perspiring glass of sangria and joined the conversation. Circumcision, Quinn was arguing, destroys the most sensitive areas of the penis, and ought to be considered mutilation. “What’s your take on it, B?” She asked. I had just sat down and all four of them were looking at me, waiting for my opinion on circumcision. I said I agreed with Quinn, and they went back to discussing it amongst themselves, giving me a moment to survey the scene.

Quinn, the apparent leader of the group, was tall and golden haired, with a smart sarcastic glimmer in her eyes. Her lightly tanned skin glowed against her gauzy white summer dress, and when she leaned forward for her drink the low neckline of the dress fell forward showing us most of her equally luminous breasts.

Her sweet hand

S had never been on a more crowded train. He was on his way from Brooklyn to Manhattan, and the people were packed in one against the other, more getting on at every stop. At Dekalb a tall strawberry blonde girl slipped into the train and grabbed onto the pole right next to him. She was very cute, and S liked the way her thigh pressed up against his as the train took off.

Crossing the bridge, he kept catching her looking at him, which was a bit awkward considering her face was only a foot away from his, but he returned the glances with friendly smiles. As they continued this silent exchange, her neutral glances turned into eyebrow-raises and coy winks. He smiled, a little more flirtatiously, in return. She’s definitely coming on to me, he thought.

The train went back underground once they were over the river, and with every jostle of the car the girl would rub her thigh against his, staring at him while she did so. The anonymity of it was turning him on, and he could feel his heartbeat gently in his penis. She just looked at him with a slightly cruel smirk as her general hotness drove him crazy.

At Canal Street, a fresh load of passengers boarded the train, forcing S and the girl even closer together. Their faces were close now and had he wanted to whisper something to her, no one else would have heard. But before his brain decided on what to say, he felt her hand on his thigh, stroking softly. She wasn’t looking at him, and before he could process what was happening he felt her hand move left to his growing erection. She wrapped her hand around it the best she could through his jeans and squeezed. He saw her eyes close briefly and she took in a deep breath. His cock was big; she must’ve liked it.

While she stroked him softly through his jeans, he reached his hand around and felt her ass. Round and firm. They weren’t being subtle, but people were packed on the train too tightly to see what the two strangers were doing. She bit her lip and smirked some more at him, stroking the length of his now rock hard cock through his jeans. He caressed her ass.

As the train slowed down for the next stop, she leaned in close to his ear and said only this: goodbye. She snaked through the passengers to the door and shot S a sexy smile as the doors slid shut befind her. She left him standing there with a huge erection, holding onto the cold metal pole, bumping into strangers as the train lurched back into motion.

Holding Sara’s hand while she cums

A reenactment. Photo courtesy of @darkgracie

A few days after I masturbated in front of my old friend Sara, she came back over and got herself off in front of me. Which I thoroughly enjoyed. Thoroughly.

She had told me quite some time ago that she’d be into masturbating while I watched, and after my performance a few days earlier, she was ready to give it a try. Well, she wanted to have a few beers first, but she was ready nonetheless.

We were hanging out in my bedroom, her sitting on the edge of the bed, me sitting on the floor, and she asked me if she turned me on. I said yes, quite a bit, and she asked me what about her did it. “Well, I think it’s mostly how open you are about sex,” I said. “Talking has always turned me on more than anything else.” She smiled at me and laid back on the bed. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve got an amazing body,” I said, looking at her reclining profile. She was wearing a thin charcoal gray sweater and a pair of jeans. I love a girl dressed in comfortable, simple clothes — that’s so much hotter to me than anything fancy. I admired the soft outline of her breasts through the sweater. “You really are a babe, Sara.”

She laughed and told me to help her get turned on. “Tell me about one of your fantasies, a hot one,” she said. I sat on the bed next to her and told her I thought we should sneak into a pool sometime and go skinny dipping together, then masturbate together in the showers. “Tell me what you’d like to do to me in the showers,” she said slowly, smirking. I got the hint, and started describing to her slowly what we would do to each other’s bodies, if I were to ever be so lucky.

As I talked, Sara closed her eyes and began to run her hands softly over her stomach and breasts. By the time I finished she was moaning quietly under her breath, and appeared to be completely oblivious to me sitting next to her. Her left hand had disappeared down into her jeans and the other up under her shirt. After a few minutes she opened her eyes. “Man, I’m getting turned on,” she said. “I suppose I had better get rid of some clothing.” Sara stood up and pulled the sweater over her head. Her bra was chocolate brown, but I hardly noticed; she unhooked it immediately and let it drop to the floor. She stood looking down at me, but I was looking at her breasts, so firm and perky. Her nipples were a deep sultry red, and hard. As I looked down to her firm stomach she undid the button of her jeans and pulled them off. She turned around to hang her jeans on the chair and I looked up at her butt, round and full, but equally smooth and firm. She laid back down on the bed next to me and said she was really turned on.

Masturbating in front of Sara

Sara and I followed through on our fantastic plan a few weeks ago, and she watched me masturbate. Not only that, but we got together a few days later and she let me watch her. Before we get into all the wet details, my friends, let me tell you one thing: it was fucking hot.

She came over to my apartment on a Friday night and we had a few beers together, laughing a lot, both knowing what the other was thinking about. Finally, she lowered her voice, gave me a killer smirk and asked if I was ready. Sara was wearing the gray dress I had requested, and as she leaned toward me with a beer in her hand, I got a fantastic view of her firm cleavage. I was ready.

“Stand in front of me,” she said firmly, cracking a slight smile. Sara was sitting in the chair facing my bed, and as I stood in front of her I could feel my cock stiffening in my jeans slightly. She looked down at my crotch and asked if something was turning me on. “Perhaps it’s my cleavage?” She said, pursing her lips and looking down at the V of her dress. She undid the top button with a soft pop and spread the opening of her dress for me. The view I got of her firm breasts cupped in that black push-up bra made me completely hard.

“God Sara, you’re gorgeous,” I said. “You’re making me so hard.” She gave a soft thoughtful hum and told me I had better take off my shirt and jeans. I obeyed, and was thus left standing in front of her wearing only a pair of red briefs (you know the ones) with my cock straining against the stretchy fabric.

Sara sat back in the chair and crossed her legs. “Lay down on the bed,” she said. “And start rubbing yourself through your underwear.” I did as she told, and closed my eyes while I softly stroked the length of my cock through the fabric. When I opened them again, she was smiling at me. “That is so goddamn hot,” she giggled. “Keep going.”

The briefs that give hardons

This is what I think: briefs make you do things you wouldn’t normally do.

A few nights ago a friend of mine was over and he asked me if I owned any American Apparel briefs. Not only do I own them, but if you click on over to the page about me, you’ll see that I enjoy wearing them very much. Often without other clothing.

I told him this, and he asked me if he could try on a pair to see what size to buy. I handed him some blue ones and stepped out of my room to let him try them on. A minute later he yelled for me to come back in, and he was standing in the middle of my room wearing only the blue briefs. “Do you think these fit me right?” He asked, spinning around. I told him I thought they fit fine, and that they fit me basically exactly the same. I was wearing a pair at the time and I unbuttoned my jeans to show him. A minute later we were both standing in the middle of my room wearing only briefs.

Something about the situation gave me a warm feeling inside and sort of turned me on, even though we are both straight men. I liked the simplicity of being half naked with my friend, and not worrying about too much. “Can I try another color?” He asked. I handed him a green pair and he slid the blue pair off. As he stepped into the new briefs I looked at his cock, which was definitely in a state of partial arousal, as was mine. That stage where it’s not hard, and it isn’t too conspicuous, but is just a little springier. He put the underwear on and looked down at himself, laughing. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I’m getting a hardon.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I sort of am too.” We both laughed and looked at each other’s growing erections. “Maybe it’s because it feels so sexy to get a hardon in these briefs. Like the outline just looks really good,” I said, looking down at myself. “I can see why it drives girls crazy.”

“Yeah, it is a really good feeling,” he said. “It sorta makes me wanna pull out my cock and jerk off. Like that’s the perfect thing to do in these underwear.” He ran his hand along the length of the big bulge in his briefs.