Wednesday, February 23, 2022

The Boy in the Asian Robe

 I notice that a number of writers mention "inexperienced" jackers who accidentally perform so openly that other people know what they are doing. Here is a case that I personally observed.

We lived in Mexico City at the time. I was still in high school and daily riding the Metro (subway) from home to the school. The train cars were always nearly full and I would take the first random seat I came to. On this particular day I found a lot of young boys wearing the orange robes of Asian monks scattered throughout the car. I sat next to one of those orange-clad boys. His robe left one shoulder bare but in other ways his attire seemed to be just a large quantity of orange cloth draped around the young man's entire body.


Almost immediately the student-monk surprised me. He seemed to look at me, although I couldn't be sure. Maybe he was wishing that I'd left the seat vacant. After a few minutes he made a decision and piled a considerable amount of the orange cloth on top of his lap. Then he buried his hands in the resulting mound. Perhaps he had already been wiggling his stiffie when I interrupted him. But I was pretty sure things would get out of hand and this young practicer of asian stoicism would lose control of himself. Barring some interruption, he would find it impossible to resist executing a complete masturbation under all that orange fabric.

I watched, pretending to look elsewhere. The action began slowly with the pile of orange material bumping around sort of aimlessly. We were off and running!

The train stopped for a station and my masturbating seat-mate withdrew his hands from the orange mountain while passengers moved up and down the aisle. His fingers nervously squeezed and released the wad of cloth, apparently helping him maintain an erection while waiting for the train to continue.

Now he leaned as tightly as possible away from me, cramming his hands back into the piled-up orange lump. The pace of his strokes accelerated. The top of his lump began springing up and down at a galloping rate while the hands ministered to an unseen phallus. After a restrained start he was soon in high gear, compulsively masturbating at full speed, trying to hide his activity while his entire body vibrated with his strokes. He was banging his dick at warp speed, shaking his mound, his seat, and his secret observer.

Then... Then it was suddenly over. He stopped pumping and sat absolutely still for several minutes. No fireworks, no shout of accomplishment, no announcement of "I came!"

He rearranged his orange robe, first squeezing it around his dick and then spreading it out with a certain amount of care.

So. Was this an accidental display? Or was he pleased that I was watching every move? Did he masturbate while believing that nobody knew? Or did he do it for me, a gift to his seatmate? What would have happened if I had squeezed my own stiff boner?

Who knows!

A.S.



Sunday, February 20, 2022

His Special Taste

 I remember some times from High School with a suck buddy I had. I was reading how semen is comprised of a variety of substances besides just sperm. Particularly how much of it is sucrose. I won't get scientific, however we all recognize sucrose when we think of sweeteners, and we have always heard or talked about how semen is salty. I also don't need to get a big debate going, but I think most of us kind of relates semen as salty to the taste. 

 So going back to my suck buddy in HS. He was slightly younger as a underclassman, we knew each other through our families. We started out just jerking together at sleep-overs. One night I asked for us to try something new, and when he questioned why...... I just pointed to his crotch, and somehow since this was a new signal, from our usual "Lets let it fly". He knew something completely different was about to happen. He was being coy and said "Oh NO-oooo". Not really denying us to try it, but it made it a little more tempting when he was  resisting.

I went down on him as he was quickly building up a boner. I don't think it took more than 2 minutes and he was spewing in my mouth. The taste was kind of plain. His not clear, I guess it was creamy, yet not as milky as mine. There was a taste, I wouldn't say it was salty at all, and certainly not sweet. I liked it, and I liked how he heaved his body when he cummed. I felt like I was truly delivering something awesome for him. Needless to say we began a crash course in sucking. It's difficult to know for sure, but his stuff might have changed slightly over time, there was a distinct tastes for sure but it wasn't salty.

 

I kind of have another story to follow,  but I wanted to see if your readers have opinions on taste of guys stuff.

 

Thanks, 

EG~

Logan's Unexpected Present

In my teens, I had a friendship, well actually a full on sexy relationship with a friend named Logan. We had met through some common friends...