Ok, I know what you are thinking. I am some kind of perv, who saunters around and has one thing on his mind. I mean, you've seen the blog, you KNOW I am dirty-minded. I admit that, already. In person I am Ok body-wise, I sense I take a good photo when the conditions are set correctly. I do fancy myself somewhat a good photographer, so like Blanche in Streetcar, some of my charms are 'illusion'. For one, I am full of scars, literally and figuratively. It comes with the farm-boy upbringing, I guess. Case in point:
I like the gym. It is nice to strip down to nothing in the presence of other men and then work out my tensions, feel that rush of buoyant physical calm after a good hour's burn. A few years ago a man started to appear. He is tall, quite tall (I am quite short), with average-to-good features. He has what could be described as an American 'college' face. He looks like a senior frat boy, but a fresh one, there is an innocence there. After seeing him for a while I did notice that he was not the best at technique, he tended to go through the motions (and still does to this day), flail a bit and seem a little intimidated or self-conscious. I myself was so at first as well, then I got a trainer and got some confidence. I generally ignored the fellow. One day I made the mistake of giving him a little friendly advice and he scurried away, after mumbling that he was nearly finished his workout. I felt a bit foolish, but it was awkward to know he was not doing things correctly and he pretty much knew I knew he wasn't. He was too shy, I realized... but boy, was I wrong!
We seem, often, to generally be on the same schedule. I finish when he does, so we strip at the same time. Little did I know, walking to the showers together, shortly after my abortive advice, that his cock was almost swinging to the floor. There's more. He lingers at the mirror. He towels down for a long time. He gets turgid, often. Lately he has been sporting a full uncut boner (this fair sight I took in a few weeks ago). I am not being selfish, he is not doing this for me, but for all the men in the change room.
The funny thing is that for one, I suspect he is quite straight, or merely (only slightly) curious (possibly) and two, it bothers me. Let me explain. I like the sight of a big dick as much as any other shirt-lifter, let me tell you. A big wiener is aesthetically beautiful as a flesh and blood object of pleasure and as a symbol of male power as well. What I don't like is having to do a Three Stooges 'eye-poke block' every time I shower. Why is he getting hard? I'm gay and I never get hard in the gym. I get a little excited sometimes, but I don't pop a FULL BONER right out in class. I know you think I am lying, but that's the reason I photograph myself. I go to the gym and work out so I can photograph myself. It's not a pick-up spot. My gym is not really that gay anyway (knowing that ALL gyms do have some gay subtext).
Of course it bothers me for more than one reason, and one of them is, of course, desire. It's a gorgeous dick. I am not at all above admitting that it turns me on, seeing it. But it leaves me biting my cuff. Maybe that is something that turns that little gay part of him on, I am not sure. The other is, of course, what God doles out at the door. He got his, gosh. So, there is envy and desire. Admitted fully by me here, and I absolve you as well, readers!
What's nagging me, getting to the reason for the poem, is, why is he doing it?? There is something unsettling about a fully hard cock in a stable. You scare the horses. I can't explain to you why I think he is 95 percent straight, but I think if a man were actually to be forward with him, looked him and that dick straight in the eye, they wouldn't (to every gay voice in the house screaming a vehement, "No!") get what they wanted - namely that princely meat in their mouth or up their bum. Of course, my gaydar is terrible. Admittedly, I may be wrong.
Oh my God, he is an exhibitionist just like me, but a straight one! That MUST be my quandary. Not fair! Oh, how I wish he'd go away (and let me work out in peace). I know what you are going to say, "Sit back and enjoy it." Yeah, I suspect you're right, but I never liked sirens. What does that say about me and my own flagrant exhibitionism?? Hahaha.