An uncontrollable grin swept over my face as I walked in to the pub. I didn't get the chance much these days. The lads went every week.
It was smiles all round from the boys as we greeted and shook hands. Steve held out a cold pint ready and waiting for me. I awaited the normal banter about being under the thumb and working too hard.
I liked the local pub, it was always busy. It was right next to the station. The station was on the main line out of London, but we were just far enough away from the city for it to not get too busy.
Dress code was smart casual usually but before 8 the workmen like myself could have a pint and dinner without being too frowned upon.
Today was Saturday and the pub had a guest singer. It was always a bit of a laugh; they were never that great but made for a good atmosphere. The drinks were flowing; the laughs were coming good times again I thought. I was started to get stick about my outfit. I'd come straight from work in the city as a brick layer. The bar staff had let me leave my tool bag and level behind the bar. It was a good job my mates were regulars or I'd be kicked out normally. I had my work boots on, loose grey jogging bottoms and a manky old hoodie and high vis.
"You can take your vis off for a start." The lads teased. I got some of my gear off. I was pretty pleased; I'd not planned on coming to the pub but just by luck I had a fairly decent tight tee shirt. I wouldn't say I was a supermodel but I didn't think I looked too shabby. My job kept me fit and I hit the gym 4 times a week so body wise I was in pretty good nick. I noticed a few women had clocked me already, giving me the once over and whispering to their friends. It was the plus side of not being a regular, I was someone new to look at.
The drinks flowed and the band started setting up and doing the odd sound check. It got to that time of night when I had to open the floodgates. I was never a big drinker; a light weight my friends would say. If I was being honest with myself four pints was enough to get me quite drunk. Five or more was definitely headache in the morning territory.
After so long without a drink and good company the drinks were going down easier than I expected. I visited the gents and stood the middle urinal. Call me big headed but I was packing a piece so I often stood in the middle. I thought it was funny to judge other guy's reactions when they came to pre next to me. I was probably 8 inches on the flop and pretty thick. The size of my cock had definitely come in to its own with the women a few times. Especially when I was at college, when I'd grown and matured my cock seemed to be the last thing. I can't remember how but one-day word got out I was well endowed and it lead to a bit of a fucking spree with the girls, he'll even my mum and dad joked about it. Dad said mum must've slept with the milkman at some point coz I didn't get my size from him.
I smiled to myself as I flicked my dick in to the toilet. No one else had come in; I was a little disappointed. I tucked him back away. Shot! I realised I wasn't wearing boxers. I'd genuinely not noticed all day, in the light grey material of jogging bottoms my big fella was pretty visible, flopping back and forth as I walked. How I'd not noticed before I didn't know. It was pretty embarrassing at times, I was pretty used to being stared at by women on holiday when wearing Speedos at the like. I certainly knew now how it felt for a busty woman.
I walked back to the lads just in time for it to be my round. I picked my way to the bar. The good thing with a pub on a London line is you have a nice mix of women. The council lot, the smart city workers, girl next door kind of girls, emo's everybody mixes. Drinks done with a flirty chat with the bar maid I carried my tray back to the group. "Oh for fucks sake!" Peter exclaimed. Grinning like a loon, "I thought we told you about this, your banned from not wearing underwear mate." All the lads laughed. "Is it that bad? I forgot my pants didn't I."
"I only just realised then in the bog"
"Oh yeah, yeah" they all mocked. "like the college days all over again, skinny jeans and packing a cucumber" They laughed.
I drunk my pint. It was funny and I'd certainly rather be big than small, but it was a headache sometimes. My mates mocked me but I could tell sometimes there was a little jealousy.
The drinks kept coming and getting stronger, we were on to mixers now rum and coke for me, I'd long since passed my 4-pint safe zone. The trips to the toilet became more frequent, I was minding myself having to lean against the wall when I peer now. The effects of alcohol kicking in. With the increasing toilet trip came increasing visits from women to our table. Just small talk and casual flirting. Word seemed to be getting around. I kept catching the odd group of girls talking and nodding in my general direction. Here I was, the scruffiest bloke in the pub being ogled over because of my cock!
For most men it sounds like a dream come true. But the grass is always greener. Firstly, a girl who go after a guy by the length of his cock is only after one thing, fucking. Then it gets to a point where you're not around so they'll fucking someone else whether they've got a big one or not. At the other end of the scale the nice girls are nice. But because they're nice when it comes to sex they can't blow you coz your too big or it hurts when I go in all the way. I really couldn't win. Partly why in my twenty-three years I'd slept with over seventy girls but my longest relationship was 5 months. Pretty pitiful.
The guys had lost interest in mocking me now about my supposed desperation at being single, which they think is why I deliberately didn't wear pants. Trying to explain that if I'd gone home to take off my pants surely I would've changed out of work clothes? The piss taking continued but now they were starting on the lead singer of the pub group. Admittedly she was over dressed for a Saturday night pub gig.
I knew I'd had a few beers but I was still with it enough to know she was genuinely stunning. She wore a long off the shoulder velvet dress with a massive slit up to her thigh, matching dark red stilettos. Her hair and makeup were expertly done. Elbow length gloves matched her dress, which plunged down her front showing off her tits.
"Crikey" the lads laughed. "She looks like she's waltzed in off the Titanic." They roared with laughter. I eyed up her entourage. Most of the female singers bought friends when they performed in pubs other than their local. At least that way they get a clap and a cheer even if they were shocking. They were a pretty little group, four friends and their mate singing. They were dressed down from their singer friends but by far the classiest women in the pub.
The guys had upped the ante on the drinks front and the odd round of shots was now accompanying our drinks. A few girls had wandered over and made the odd passing comment about having people's eye's out and needing KY jelly. I had to admit it did amuse me the way some girls would react to my member after a few drinks. That was the reason why when I was younger I always wore skin tight jeans, much to my mate's disgust. Turns out the baggy work joggers were doing just as well with no pants on. Most of the attention I managed to steer to my grateful mates, after a while of chatting the slightly worse for wear girls would forget who they came over to see.
My toilet trips were getting ever more frequent. I'd managed to embarrass a few regulars with my peeing in the middle urinal trick. Outside at the bar I was beginning to get a few scowling looks from the men.
I felt pretty smashed as the bell went for last orders. My friends started grabbing their coats while Patrick got one last round of shots in for the road. I necked mine back and made my excuses and I needed to loo once more. Unfortunately for me every other bloke in the pub had the same idea and we were actually queuing up.
"neigh," I turned slowly at the noise imitating a horse. I had heard it a hundred times before funnily enough. It was accompanied by a fit of giggles from the singer and her entourage. "you know the summer toilets outside are open."
"Oh, oh right, thanks"
They obviously performed here more often than I thought, to be fair I only came in about every three months. I wandered through the beer garden to the outside toilet block. Sure enough they were unlocked and empty too.
