Wednesday, July 18, 2018

His Tuft of Delicate Golden Fibers (A Vision)

These summer days with the mercury stuck at 100 degrees remind me of an incident when we were stationed in Arizona. There was a swimming pool on-base, and boy was it crowded in mid-summer. Not just the pool itself, but also the changing stalls and restroom facilities.

I was waiting in line to change back into my street clothes. The guy behind me said he was in a hurry. He wanted to know if I would mind sharing my stall with him when it was my turn. I told him "Sure."

I was around nine or ten. The other guy was somewhat older. When we got into the little stall, both carrying our locker baskets, there was not an inch of spare room. The other kid slid his bathing suit down with no hesitation, revealing his entire crotch.  I suddenly wondered if changing together might not be a nice thing to do. But I went ahead and pulled down my trunks, followed by my soggy briefs that my mother made me wear under my bathing suit.

The big guy was all business, dropping his wet outfit on the floor and then toweling off his back, his butt, his hair and so forth. At the same time, his dick flopped around right in front of my wide eyes, a dick that put my shriveled little peter to shame.

And then I noticed his pubic hair: light blond and glistening with dampness. It made a curly fringe above his dangling peter.

Now the older guy dried his crotch. When he was through there his fringe of blond hair had become sort of airy. It was even lighter than the rest of the mass, billowing above the rest. He gave his dick a little special attention with the towel. Two or three times he cracked his legs apart, reached down under and dried his balls. Those actions were interesting. But what I couldn't keep my eyes off of was the golden poof of hair.

I had a certain friend my same age who traded looks, feels and tickles with me (See "Best Friends" on this blog), but neither of us had any hair in the critical location. The only person I'd ever seen with pubic hair was my dad. But here was this somewhat bigger boy displaying a magical tuft of delicate golden fibers above his penis.

He stepped into a jock, pulled it up, and tucked his equipment into position. The show was over.

"Thanks," he said as he grabbed his basket and trotted out. I was still half-naked, having spent all my time staring at the free show the guy had given me.

At our first chance I tried to describe that delicate bush of glistening blond hair to Connor, my touchy-feely friend. We quickly slid down our pants and began examining each other for hair of our own, but found nothing.
 The boy with the lovely blond pubes entered my life for perhaps five brief minutes, yet he remains a powerful memory, one of those special moments that you never forget.

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Mad about Undie Ads

I know we are kind of binging on undies lately, but there is a lot to cover in this topic. (Pun intended, LOL)

A Long-time reader sent me this, expressing a slight reservation in regards to a racial tone. I felt that it is more complimentary than degrading to anyone, so I think it is fine. and is presented un-edited. 

 I was also happy to read about a common activity that he and his cousin shared, which was a secret hobby of my own when I was 12-14. Read-on to know the details.


Referencing whitie-tighties: Several years ago on this blog we were discussing visual turn-ons before the age of the internet. Someone mentioned newspaper ads that showed boys modeling pajamas and underwear.

When I was a young jacker I watched the paper every day for such ads. IIRC, one writer spoke of hiding underwear ads under his mattress. In my case I kept certain ads in my zippered school notebook. My cousin and I (we lived with our grandparents) would sometimes share ads we'd found. The ads with their smiling, relaxed dudes in pure white briefs would be brought out and stared at while we pumped our young peckers!

I remember examining those advertising supplements and skipping hurriedly past the useless boxer photos in search of the delightful white briefs.

When I first became aware of those ads, only white people were used as models. Just when I was a year or so into puberty the advertising industry caught up with the times and presented models whose skin was a variety of interesting shades. How I stared at the handsome dark-skinned boys who gave an additional and slightly mysterious perspective to the underwear ads. Sometimes two or three boys would be shown as a group, modeling briefs and undershirts. I would think, "Wow! they're hanging out together in their underwear!"
 I remember the biggest "wish books" coming from Sears and Montgomery-Ward. Besides their big books, they published multi-page ad flyers throughout the year, particularly at Christmas. Besides those biggest chains, I also enjoyed K-Mart supplements.

Saturday, July 14, 2018

A Pair of Comments on Undie Pairs

1.) A boy once in gym. He must of got a boner. Real sudden I see him standing still at his locker. And rubbing the door back and forth on the front of his tightey whiteys. I think he saw that I was watching, so right away he quit it. Then I can see his under pants which was whitey's got a bump in them. It was wicked funny. watching him put on his pants over his hard boner
  Anon 1

 2.) I remember one time when me and a friend traded underwear. Not because of anything sexy but to compare the difference. I hardly could wait to get my briefs back from him. The boxers did not hold my junk. Everything flopped all around. It was not fun. He said he did not like my briefs because they did not have any freedom. Different strokes.

Anon 2

Thursday, July 12, 2018

Briefs Always Win over Boxers

I caught myself appreciating boys in tighty-whities when in School Phys Ed (seventh and eighth grades). In the locker room, I chanced some random sly looks at the boys that wore plain white briefs. I found that boys who wore boxers did not draw my attention. It was a very basic rejection, they gave no hint of what hung inside the loose folds of cloth. But those stunning bright white briefs presented a tantalizing interplay of light, shadow and curvature.

While settling into a pair after a shower, slightly wet skin and moisture absorbing fabric with elastic bands created a bit of a struggle for fitment. Usually the briefs-wearer needed to make several small adjustments until he had things just right. I found that a properly-packed pair of whitie tighties was somehow more tantalizing than nakedness itself.


Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Sporting a Brand New Pair

This Author of this little story captures one the finest pleasures I can remember as young 11 to13er. This goes back to a time when a kid wasn't spoiled or treated to nice things often, aside from a maybe a bike and perhaps a skateboard. The clothes we wore were just essentials to protect us at play, or something required for school. If a boy finds himself satisfied in an intimate article of clothing, the feeling is surely genuine. Read how this youngster felt.

New underwear was a luxury item when I was a kid. I wore my old ones until they were too tight. Or else there would be holes all in them. And of course, stains. Finally my mother would come home from a shopping trip and hand me a package of new briefs.

We were a modest family, so I could not show off my underpants to anybody, but wearing them made me very proud. Sometimes I would think about my new white briefs while I was at school or out playing. They were a big deal and I felt very fortunate to have them on.

When I was got to be 12 and 13 and on into 14 new underwear did something crazy for me. They gave me a boner. I would open the package and throw the wrapper away. I believe there were three pairs in a package. Two went into my drawer and I held up the third pair, admiring their immaculate whiteness. I shook the wrinkles out of them and grooved on their perfectly white, unstained softness. After showering I began putting my brand-new undies on. As I stepped into them and carefully slid them upwards, my dick would start feeling funky. I pulled them up my legs and in a minute there was a genuine stiffie in my new whitie-tighties.

I bumped my hard dick against things in the bathroom. I moved my dick around, usually putting it at a diagonal angle behind the fly. I looked at the outline of my hard-on in the mirror. Sometimes I tickled my stiffie. There was something magical about the fabric when it was new. The fit was correct around the leg-openings, my stuff didn't peek out anywhere, and it seems everything stayed arranged just as they were meant to. The fabric was soft yet taut all at the same time, which ever way I arranged my junk, new undies seemed to hold my favored placement. New undies also made for random boners too.

In seconds I could get fully hard. Not wanting to get my new underpants dirty, I slid them down and wrapped toilet paper or kleenex around my dick just in case a drop of hard-dick-goo might ooze out. Then I pulled the soft white undies up again, mashing and rubbing the bulge they contained. I never spent much time in front of mirrors, but with a nice bright white pair on, I couldn't help but marvel at the remarkable prize they awarded.

When bedtime came around I was on a hair-trigger, having been on edge ever since putting on the new shorts. Laying in bed with my beautifully white new undies tugged down around my knees (where they were out of the line of fire), I began to delight my touchy stiffie, fingering and squeezing and tickling my paralyzed dick. Before long I was giving myself that much-needed wank.

After blowing my load into a handful of kleenex, I once again wrapped more tissues around my softening dick to eliminate the slightest chance of getting the undies dirty. Then I pulled the new underpants up to enclose my crotch.

I was so careful with new underwear. But inevitably I would dirty them with a wet fart or some stray specks of piss, or even a tell-tale drop of cum that had got out of control.

The shorts would eventually become old and lose their effect. The elastic became loose, the fly was yellowed, there were signs of improperly shielded ejaculations.The leg openings now allowed more air, and occasionally one of the boys would find it's way out, and if I was in jeans the experience was morbidly painful if it got pinched by the crotch grabbing power of denim.

But then, some special day, my mom would hand me a new package of pristine undies that would brighten my eyes, then of course immediately stiffen my delighted dick as soon as I unwrapped them in my room.


Monday, July 9, 2018

Doing Your Daily Task

Anyone who was ever a Boy Scout undoubtedly knows “Scout Vespers”. It is a reverent hymn sung at the end of a meeting or around the campfire as the very last event of the day before lights out. The first few lines are “Softly falls the light of day as our campfire fades away. Silently each Scout should ask have I done my daily task”.
 At my first summer camp, 11 years old, me and my friends noticed that when that last line was sung, several of the slightly older Scouts would both sing it extra loud and start to snicker. Us younger Scouts had no idea why this line seemed to be so funny. 

Finally, one of my friends bravely asked one of the older Scouts why they all seemed to laugh when we sing, "Have I done my daily task?" The older Scout responded something like, "It’s whackin-off you little dork!" "But you wouldn’t know anything about that yet!"

And he was right. We still had no idea what was so funny about - doing your daily task.

Anonymous Scout

Sunday, July 8, 2018

The Ol' Swimming Hole

Back on the farm we had  our own version of the "Squeeze it" game.
I had a swimming hole that was pretty far away from everything. You could not see it from the neighbors fence-line or the county road. All us guys including the neighbor boys at that time we were age 10 on up to 15. On a hot summer day a coo-off swim was just the thing us boys liked to do. We always swam naked. Not to show-off or anything, it just seemed like the thing us boys should do out in the summer sun together. 

Our version of Squeeze it was when we would dive under water and grab each others peter to try to make them hard. Sometimes it worked. If enough guys got their peter hard we'd get out of the water and we would stand around facing each other taking turns grabbing each others peter. Of course it was a challenge to see who was biggest. After everyone was hard, it was a group feel-up then try to see who could cum first. Some guys if they had to pee, they would try to squirt on someone or even everyone. Then it was a ruckus of naked butt boys racing into the water to wash off.
 Nothing about this time seemed naughty or dirty to us. I am sure some boys told their parents how we swam naked in that swimming hole, but no grown-ups ever came to stop us. Everyone knew we were just boys, feeling safe and free in our world with all of natures gifts around us to enjoy. You gotta think how sad that boys today just don't get this amazing sort of life like we did on the farm.

Saturday, July 7, 2018

A Boy and Me Play "Squeeze It"

 In sixth grade there was a boy I knew that was all tall and skinny. He says one day,
 "Does your dick get hard?"

I did not know what that means. So he goes to feel of mine, showing me what he wanted. So I put my hand on his pants. He asks if I can  feel it.

 "Yes I can."

 Then he says,
  "Sqeeze it."

I did and.he says for  me to keep doing it. After I squeezed it a lot. He says,
  "Okay,  stop now."

 On another day he asks me if I want to feel it again today. He said he likes it when I squeeze his pants. For a good while I squeezed his pants then he goes,
 " That is enuff."

 One day after now in seven grade we're alone, and he gets it out and lets me see. It is sticking out in a big straight hard-on. It was long and thin just like him.  He says this is what you was squeezing last year.
  "Now you can do it for me like this."

 I wrap my fingers around it until they touch to my thumb. He said I can squeeze hard and soft it all feels good to him. He likes me to squeeze it a lot in different ways.He tells me to jack it. I was confused, he said I can move my hand up and down some, and to relax my grip when I go up. I got the rhythm of it going quickly and he is looking up moaning some nice noises.  In a little while he says,
 "It's coming!"

I did not know what he means. He says look. He goes to jacking it himself. He keeps telling me several times to look. Then some stuff comes out his piss hole, but it sure is not piss. He took a breath and said,
 "Aaah.... that was good."

 I got to be his friend, and he liked me to jack him all the time. One day he played with mine. It made me cum like him but not so much and not as milky. We found ways for him and me do it all the time in secret. He finally told me that I had  been making cum in his pants back in six grade while I was squeezing him.