From my teenage years through into my 30s I could depend on my cock to misbehave, at the wrong time and in the wrong place.
- Driving. In the back seat of the family car on our way to visit relatives, and the vibration of travel would wake him. “Hey, I’m here” Always the last to get out and carrying my coat!
- In the bath. Up Periscope “Wanna play submarines?”
- In school. Just sat in class. Failure to concentrate would result in my trouser buddy jerking me back to reality.
- On The Buses. On a bus going to my first job. A guy in front got up, turned and smiled at me, and I shot my load there and then. Nothing worse than a pocket full of cum and no tissue. I just knew it was going to run down my leg as my stop was next.
- In church. Please God NO! I think it is the low resonance notes of the organ, and mine is an instrument up for playing accompaniment.
- Road workers beware! Not a high viz fetish, but I just know if he reaches for that pneumatic drill I am going to “pop a boner!”
- Drill and Fill. A visit to the dentist – I know so sad. The thought of a cavity needing attention and my tool was ready, to drill and fill.
- Cinema. I am never going to the cinema again. The sound system they have, war movies, explosions and the loud noise of battle and the pocket rocket in my pants is locked and loaded, ready to aim and fire.
- Baking. I make cakes manually. The electric whisk and blender are instruments of torture, designed to leave a man with a leaking willy and pants soggy. I can’t watch Masterchef, and “Ready Steady Cook” might as well be “Ready Tom to F**k!!”
- Motorbikes. Never going on a motorbike again. He loaned me a set of leathers, and then I got up behind him. How much more erotic can it get? Mounting a machine and straddling a man in leather. Then the engine roars, my cock just throbbed and pulsed in response. After a high-speed ride of leaning, heavy braking, and racing acceleration, we arrived at his. I am spent many times over, and he wants SEX! I had just been having it for the previous 20 minutes. I had to walk home, with a shrivelled nut sac and a gait like I was mounting a Motto Guzzi or riding an invisible Shetland pony.
- Washing day. In my 20s I lived in a flat and found the pleasure of the washing machine on its final rinse and spin cycle was like the world’s largest sex toy. As soon as it started, I would hop up on the work surface and indulge in a wild wank. Even now the aroma of fabric softener is like an airborne aphrodisiac to me; nasal Viagra – one whiff and I’m stiff!
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Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you'd like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.