I WANNA JACK YOU OFF - CHRISTOPHER STREET BBS A TRUE STORY (MOSTLY) - by PUMPER - (201) 992-5660
C'Etait une experience trs erotique que je n'oublierai jamais.
It was summer and I had just returned home from my first year at college. I had been attending a large church-affiliated university which had an excellent reputation for its educational standards but which, in my case, proved to be unbearably repressive as far as sex was concerned. All these gorgeous gay guys (I could tell from the looks they gave me on the sly) but all of them, myself included, too uptight to even think about touching another guy except for the usual slap-on-the-butt jock shit.
Anyway, little did I know that my summer vacation at home in Georgia would be a lot different from the routine at school. If I had known before hand what that summer held in store, I don't think I could have waited out two full semesters. Summers in Georgia are very hot and humid so people tend to dress cool. I decided to look for a pair of white cotton slacks and went to one of the large department stores downtown to see if I could find what I wanted.
The retail clerk in the mens department was a foxy upper-classman I had seen before on campus--but always with a girl on each arm. I spotted him from halfway across the store--or rather, I spotted his ASS from halfway across the store; he was bending over looking for some stock under a counter. Oh, but when he turned around--that was the coup de grace! It was all I could do to keep from staring. Finally, I got so intimidated I decided to leave, besides--I couldn't find any slacks in my size. Just as I started walking away, I heard a man's polite southern accent behind me:
"Excuse me sir. Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Uh, ahh, umm, well no. I'm looking for some white cotton slacks".
"We just got some in but I haven't had a chance to put them out yet; what is your waist size"?
"Size 30".
"I think you might like the new Calvin Kleins. Why don't you go back to a dressing room and I'll be right there".
I walked down a long hallway with about ten curtained booths on either side and went in the last one on the right. It seemed like I had only been in there for a couple of seconds when I turned around and there he was with a pair of slacks on his arm. He smiled at me, drew the curtain behind him and said:
"Let's try these on for size" as he handed me the slacks.
I had never been in a situation like this before. I mean, God!! Here I am, getting all turned on by this super-hunk, straight college jock while he expects me to strip right in front of him and try on some pants. I tried my best to mentally will my hardon soft but there was no way!! I stepped out of my jeans and hoped that he hadn't seen the wet spot on my jockeys and the throbbing bulge underneath. I started to tuck my shirt in when he said:
"That's OK, leave your shirt out for now".
I didn't understand why he would make a request like that but I complied, zipping the fly and buttoning the waist.
The pants were obviously too big, but I waited to hear his reaction. His face was right in front of my crotch as he knelt down and ran his hand along the inseam. I thought to myself: if he doesn't watch out, I'm going to go over the edge!! He said that the legs seemed to fit OK and asked me what I thought--all the time his hand pressed tight up against my balls.
"Yeah, the legs are fine but look at the waist--these must be at least a size 34!!!"
"Let's see. Are they really that big"?
He stood up and, looking me in the eyes, put his hand inside the waistband of the slacks running it from side to side and said:
"Yeah, you're right. They are too big but how do they FEEL"?
"Well, you know--they feel loose, kind of..."
"Yeah, I know but how does THIS feel"?
He moved his hand to the inside of the waistband of my jockey shorts, tickling the hair on my stomach as he continued to run his hand back and forth--his eyes demanding an acceptable answer to his question. I was starting to shake with sexual excitement. My breathing, though deep, seemed completely inadequate. I was practically unable to speak but the reaction of my body told this young stud everything he needed to know. When he moved his hand down into the wet pouch of my shorts I thought I would pass out and slumped back against the wall. This guy would not let up--THANK GOD!!! He had his hand in my shorts and after playing with my turgid, swollen balls, began to JACK ME OFF!!! I knew I should not be encouraging him, but I had fantasized about this moment for years--it was so easy to just let him DO it! And besides, all the time he was stroking my dick he kept asking me:
"How does that feel.....Does that feel good"? There was no way I could lie. It felt fucking GREAT!!!
I could feel the cum rising through the root of my cock. The feeling of this stud's hand massaging my slippery, lubricated cock was more than I could take. Abruptly, my handsome young masturbator pulled his hand from my shorts but there was no turning back--by this time my cock was so filled with cum that I HAD TO SHOOT!! I was overcome by waves of orgasm that completely saturated my jockey shorts. When I finally was able to speak, I started to tell this guy what a talented hand he had but he interrupted:
"Excuse me, sir--but--ummm, could I ask you a PERSONAL question"?
"Yeah, sure".
"Did you just 'POP'"?
"Are you kidding?....Just look at this mess"!!
"WOW"!!! "I guess you did, huh"? "Wait here--I'll be right back".
In less than a minute, he returned with a new pair of Jockey shorts and said:
"Here...let's trade"!
I left without the cotton slacks and often wonder if that guy is still getting off on my shorts. Just thinking about this experience gets me hot and I love to jack off on the jockeys he gave me in return.
But wouldn't you know.......
He gave me size 34!!!