I’m amazed that Public Boners still remains the most read post of this blog! Wow… Who’d-a thought, right? But I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised – because our cocks really do have minds of their own. It brings to mind an old quote of Bill Mahr’s: “Men name their penis’s because they hate taking orders from a stranger.”
Funny line, but so true! Funny maybe because it’s so true. I think I mentioned before that I used to belong to a gym that had totally separate sides for men and women. I loved this place because it was all guys, all naked, all the time. And, brother! did you ever get to see a parade of dicks whenever you were there. Everything from soft to full-on boners, everywhere; a veritable cornucopia of cock.
My own often popped when I least expected it, but with so many others doing the same thing I quickly got used to it when I was in the military and quit trying to hide it. (Which kind of ties in to learning to be comfortable in your own skin, I guess.)
On one of my visits, as I lounged in the Jacuzzi, the guy next to me not only popped wood, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his stiffy just to be sure I knew he was telling the truth! Which, of course, caused my pecker to rise up. Which, of course, I told him about and, of course, he grabbed. We had a nice 15-minute jack-fest stroking each other’s sticks (no, we didn’t cum in the spa). If any of the other guys in there noticed, no one said anything.
Eventually, it got too hot for me. I guess I could’ve jumped into the pool, but I stood up and went to the showers to cool off. He followed me and we finished what we started, standing face to face until we blew our loads on each other. Hmmm. Maybe that’s why I headed for the showers instead of the pool. Almost an hour later in the parking lot, as we were both leaving, he gave me a smack on the ass, told me I had great legs, a really fine butt (I was still dancing in those days), a truly beautiful cock, and invited me to spend the rest of the day at his place. (Which absolutely ties in to being comfortable in your own skin; I like to think he went home and blew a load while thinking about me!) Alas! I had to return home to wife #1.
Since it was my favorite refuge for escape from the wife, I spent quite a bit of time there. If it was during the day, I’d go up to the roof – also separated – lay back on one of the chaise lounges, and slather on the tanning oil. Invariably, the process of doing that would get me boned up and, if I was alone up there, I’d leisurely jack off. If I happened to be there in the evening, one of my favorite things to do was take a shallow dive into the pool, swim some laps, and then kick back poolside on a lounge chair to relax.
It was one of those nights when it was fairly quiet and the din of the fans lulled me to sleep. I felt a hand on my shoulder giving me a gentle shake. I woke up to find one of the staff smiling down at me and saying “I’m sorry, I hated to wake you. You looked so peaceful lying there like that, but it’s past closing.”
I apologized and, when I went to sit up, my rock-hard rod stabbed me in the belly. His response? A big smile, “Don’t worry about it,” and with a nod at my boning dick, “take your time.”
Now, after 9-plus years in the military, I was pretty good at taking orders. So, I wrapped a hand around my wood and slowly stroked to a massive, explosive orgasm. Twenty minutes later, my body, face, and neck splattered with cum and big pools of it clinging to my abs, I finally made my way to the showers. I only wish he’d stuck around and lent me a hand!
But, I love it when guys don’t freak out over seeing someone with a stiff dick. I love the fact that they are so comfortable in their maleness they understand the simple fact dicks get hard; we’ve got no control over it. We can choose when or where to relive those hard-on’s, but when or where our cocks get it into their [little] heads to stand up and demand attention is their choice, not ours. And there shouldn’t be any shame in that at all.