Cock Tales 1

My penis, when fully erect, is just over five inches long. This is, I know, on the small side, but then, while I see lots of huge cocks in porn, I certainly see a lot that don't look any bigger than mine. It's also true that, when fucking girls, I have occasionally gone too deep into their vaginas, and hurt them. So it seems to that my dick is big enough for the job. I'm quite happy with the size of it, anyway.

I'm also happy that I'm circumcised. I simply don't like the look of uncircumcised pricks. When I was at school, most of the kids were circumcised like me. The exceptions were some Lebanese boys. When I saw their uncircumcised dicks in the toilets I was quite shocked. At the time, I didn't actually know that I had been circumcised, of course. I just thought that Lebanese dicks were different.

In its natural state, my balls and the base of my penis are covered with black hair, but these days I mostly keep it shaved. Dicks look much better shaved, I think, and my wife certainly agrees. I also always make sure I shave before making one of my frequent trips to my favourite nude beach. If people want to see my cock and balls, I want to be sure they get as good a view of it as possible.

As you can tell from that, I'm now quite an exhibitionist. I was very different as a kid though. I was very modest about my body, and went to great lengths to ensure that no-one ever saw my penis. I remember once when I was on a school retreat. We were lining up to have a shower with only towels wrapped around our waists. My best friend, who was also the class clown and the butt of many jokes, had his towel snatched away by another boy. I watched as he ran up and down the dormitory, trying to get it back, his dick flopping around ridiculously. I remember thinking how mortified I would have been if this had happened to me.

A few minutes later, it was my turn to get into the shower with another boy, whose name was Les. I was extremely embarrassed of course (although I can't deny that I looked at his dick). This was, I believe, the only time I was ever naked in front of another person before I lost my virginity (apart from one occasion when my grandfather came in to the bathroom and had a look at me in the shower, and when I showed myself to my sister, of which more later).

But at the same time, the idea of being naked began to attain a certain thrill. I remember the first time I dared to take off all my clothes in the back garden. I ran across the lawn and into a clump of trees behind the garage, terrified that someone would see me. During the school holidays, I took to sunbathing in the yard and, when Mum was out shopping, would occasionally slip my shorts off and lie in the deckchair with the sweat dripping off me and the sun shining onto my dick and balls. I was sure the people who lived on either side of us would, at any moment, peer through the fence and see me, or that my mother would come home unexpectedly and catch me.

I had discovered masturbation at an early age. I remember, even before my first ejaculation, lying in bed toying with my dick - I loved the way I could push my balls up into my body and bring them out again. Soon I was masturbating two or three times a day.

One Christmas we went to stay on a farm. Behind the farmhouse, at a lower level and therefore not visible from it, ran a creek. I would go down to it each day, make sure no-one was coming, then strip off all my clothes and swim naked in it. I had a crush on an older girl named Margot at the time and I took to performing a ritual. I'd pick up one of the round, smooth stones which lined the creek bed and scratch a little love message to her on it. Then I'd masturbate, squirting my spunk onto the stone. I'd rub it onto the message and toss it into the river.

On only one occasion did I intentionally show myself naked to anyone, and that was to my sister. She had her best friend over to our house one day, and I remember being particularly overcome by a feeling of lust. I had a shower and, wrapping a towel around my waist, walked down the hall, stopping at the door to my sister's bedroom, where the two girls were playing, and looking in at them. I have no idea what I thought might happen (I think I had some sort of scenario in my mind of us playing and the towel dropping 'accidentally' ). I went into my bedroom and took the towel off and stood in front of my wardrobe, and looked like I was rummaging through there for clothes. I remember I had never felt so naked before, so aware of my dick and balls as part of my body yet hanging outside it, obscenely bare. After a few minutes my sister skipped into the room, saw me, went "Oh!" in an embarrassed way and raced out. I must have enjoyed this for I remained in position, my ploy of rummaging for clothes wearing increasingly thin, until my sister ventured in once more, saw my penis again, and repeated her hasty exit.

Being so shy as a kid, I was hopeless with girls. While I was at school, I only ever took a girl on a date once, and I had never even really kissed a girl. As it turned out, the first time I kissed a girl properly, the first time I felts a girl's breasts, and the first time I tasted a cunt, all happened within the space of about an hour.

It was at a party towards the end of my first year at uni. There was a girl named Louise there with whom I shared a few classes, and who I had been lusting after for a while (though of course I was too shy to try to chat her up). We both ended up pretty drunk, and somehow started to kiss each other.

Unfortunately my cock failed me that night. A combination of alcohol and the sheer momentousness of the occasion meant I couldn't get hard enough to fuck. The truth was, I was so glad to finally get my hands on a girl's naked body, I didn't really care. That night, Louise became the first girl to handle and suck my penis, and I licked out her pussy, loving the taste of it, but we didn't fuck properly until about a week later.

Louise and I had soon moved into a house together, and my cock continued to perform its duties. I don't think it has ever gotten so hard again, or stayed hard for so long, as that first year or so of fucking Louise. She was a beautiful girl with long brown hair, olive skin, lovely breasts with puffy, pale brown nipples, a delicious cunt, and a puckered grey arsehole that I took great delight in licking. I don't know what was best - doing her missionary style, so I had a perfect view of my cock plunging into her tight, brown-haired pussy, lifting my body up so the top of my painfully hard prick rubbed against her pubic bone; or doing her from behind, where I could part her buttocks and admire her anus as I screwed her. Both were equally good. I thought that I would be with Louise forever, and made no attempt to fuck other girls until the end of our relationship, although I knew there were some who wanted me to.

Louise and I began to drift apart however and I left her for another girl, who was much more promiscuous, an exhibitionist who would try anything and was happy to let me fuck her up the arse, which Louise had never let me do. And there was an agreement that we could fuck other people. As my girlfriend - who became my wife and who is with me to this day - is also bisexual, we have had several threesomes with girls (it always feels amazing fucking another girl as she watches). I now went through a serious period of trying to fuck every girl I could.

Meanwhile, I was masturbating as much as ever. My cock demands attention at least once, often twice day, and failing to relieve it of some sperm leaves my mind awash with sex and incapable of doing anything else useful. Sometimes I resent this tyranny my penis has over me, but the pleasure I derive from pumping it as I view porn, or recall my sexual encounters in as much detail as I can muster, means the resentment never lasts long.

For years I've experimented with different masturbation techniques. Sometimes I tie up my cock after it's hardened so that the blood is trapped in it and it bulges and turns purple, the veins sticking out on the shaft like cords (I have also fucked my wife - very pleasurably - with my cock tied like this). One day I shaved all the hair off my balls and the base of my cock for the first time, so that they were smooth like they had been when I was a little boy discovering masturbation. I was pleased with the increase in sensation that this brought about (another bonus was that when I was shaved my wife would take my balls in her mouth and suck them). After a couple of days the hair growing back would make my balls itch, but I found this quite pleasant and it gave me an erection when walking.

I also began to experiment with cock torture. My usual technique was to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, wanking until I was hard, then tie a cord tightly around the base of my scrotum. I would then fasten laundry pegs and bulldog clips to the engorged flesh until the skin became so tight I couldn't get any more on (I found that a bulldog clip, fastened lengthwise along the base of the shaft, just behind the 'V' of the glans, particularly pleasurable). Taking hold of the ends of the cord which bound my genitals I would tug on it so my stinging cock and balls, heavily weighted with the clips and pegs, would bounce slowly up and down, my glans as red and shiny as an apple, the pain,especially of the bulldog clips, quite intense, until the spunk shot powerfully out of me and spattered in the sink.

On other occasions I would tie up my prick and slap it with my leather belt until both cock and balls were red and stinging. When we were fucking, I'd get my wife to treat my cock roughly, to pull and twist it as hard as she could, to not worry about hurting me.

Meanwhile, my feelings about my body were changing. I started to fantasise about being naked in public places.

My first steps in this direction came on an overseas holiday, when my wife and I were staying in a room without its own bathroom. The bathroom we had to use was on the second floor, a big white painted room with a bath and shower over it, and a large window, overlooking a fairly busy street, which was always kept open. While standing up and having a shower, there would have been a direct line of vision between you and the street - where people could be seen walking about 30 metres away - had there not been affixed to the wall on a hinge a pane of marbled glass by which, swinging it towards you, you could hide yourself.

As I stepped in to have a shower on my first day there, I instinctively moved the glass to cover myself, but as I was washing I thought about what it would be like to shower without doing this. The idea frankly terrified me. What if someone saw me from the street and then complained to the police, and they came to the hotel to make inquiries and - my paranoia running high here - I was thrown out of the country? Rather unlikely, I knew, but still possible, and the possibility was both frightening and exciting. That night, as I lay in bed, I made up my mind I was going to do it.

Next morning I arrived in the bathroom, a towel around my waist and my throat dry. I pushed the glass screen flat against the wall and, behaving as nonchalantly as possible, stepped into the bath and turned on the shower. I began to wash my hair, my back against the window, then turned around so that my cock was perfectly visible from the street. When I saw people walking along the pavement I had a powerful urge to turn around or cover myself, but I fought against it.

When I had finished washing I stepped out of the bath and towelled myself dry, walking past the window as I did so, then squatting on the floor I thought about what I had just done and wanked until I came. I repeated this every day I was at the hotel. I don't know if anyone saw me.

One evening I was walking home from work when I was overcome by a feeling of lust. I stopped and looked around. There were lights on in the houses but I couldn't see anyone, and there were no cars on the road. I unzipped my pants and pulled my penis out. Feeling both scared and excited I continued to walk down the street with it hanging out. I passed houses with their doors open, whose occupants, had they been looking out of them at the moment I passed, could have seen me like this.

I have repeated this act many times now. I usually begin by going to a secluded spot where I take my cock out and masturbate until I'm hard. I ease my balls out of my pants too, so that my genitals are entirely outside my clothing. I walk along, my stiff cock bobbing up and down. If a car approaches, or I see someone up ahead, I momentarily cover myself with my briefcase. At some point I stop and masturbate until I come.

One night, after alcohol had given me courage, I stripped naked, went to the front door and opened it. It was about three o'clock in the morning and my wife was asleep in the bedroom. I stepped out, walked to the front gate, and looked up and down the street. It was brightly lit by street lights but very quiet, with no lights showing in the houses. Up at the end of the street, the occasional car drove past. I opened the gate and stepped onto the pavement.

It was the first time I had ever been completely naked out in the open like this, and I found it exhilarating. I began to pull my cock, turning this way and that. I thought about people looking out their windows and seeing this pervert, and calling the police, and how risky it was doing this right outside my house, but that made it more exciting. So far I had been shielded by parked cars to some extent, but now I walked past them and stood in the middle of the street with my feet apart (I remember the feeling of the road under my bare feet), my cock really stiff now, and wanked unashamedly until I came, my sperm hitting the road with a loud 'splat!'

I have since ventured out naked like this several times. In my boldest effort, I walked right to the end of my street one night, past some twenty houses, masturbating all the way. I came to a factory with a chain link fence and stuck my cock through it (I remember the rough feeling of the wire on the base of my balls).

My growing exhibitionism had another outlet in photography. Back when I was with Louise, I persuaded her to let me take a photo of her lying on our bed wearing only a white camisole, her tits and pussy bare. Afterwards, she tried to take a photo of me naked as well, but I cupped my hand over my dick so that nothing showed in the picture she finally took. The idea that there would be a photo of me with my cock showing which someone might find was unthinkable to me at the time.

But one day I decided I needed to take just such a photo. These were the days before digital photography, so I had to use my Polaroid camera. I taped it to the side of a chair in the lounge room, stripped off my clothes, and stood in front of the camera with one foot on the coffee table so there would be a good view of my cock and balls, which I had shaved.

I hid the resulting photo, which showed my face as well, away in a book. At first I was sort of embarrassed about it and worried someone would find it. I would take it out and look at it, at my nakedness, and sometimes I masturbated to it. Is it perverse to masturbate looking at yourself? I suppose it is. (Then again Salvador Dali, a great expert on wanking, recommended that you always do it in front of a mirror).

There is obviously an exhibitionistic thrill that motivates a lot of people who are into porn. I wonder if there are any women who masturbate looking at pornographic images of themselves in magazines or on the Net. I'm sure some of the men in porn wank to their own videos.

The fact is, as no doubt the reader has noticed, I like my cock. I like to look at it, and stroke it, and see it disappear into a girl's mouth or pussy or - best of all - arsehole. I have said that I'm happy with the size of it, but there is one reason that I would like it to be bigger - how I would love to be one of those guys who are big enough, and flexible enough, to suck themselves off! Sometimes I dream that I'm able to do this. There'll I'll be, doubled up, my hard cock in my mouth. It's the most wonderful feeling. I'll wake up feeling ecstatic - I can do it! - and then I realise that I can't.

Not happy with having just the one photo, I began to build up a collection of photos of my penis in various stages of erection. I took photos of it tied up, my balls round and shiny. One day, while searching the net, I came upon a notice by a guy offering to send photos of his wife to other men, on the condition that they send photos back of them ejaculating on to her. I was happy to oblige him.

One day, in a lascivious mood, I stripped naked, wrapped a towel around my waist, and went into the backyard. A train line ran along the back of it, so that those people sitting on the top level of a train, and looking out the window at the right time, could see straight down into it.

Slipping the towel off, I stood in the middle of the yard, wanking myself until I was hard, then took some photos of my erection. When I heard a train's rumbling approach, I quickly covered myself with the towel. But then I grew bolder. I laid the towel out on the ground and lay on my back on top of it. As the next train passed, and several after that, I lay there in full view so that anyone glancing out of the window at the right moment would have seen me.

After a while I stood up again. There was a pile of yellow sand in one corner of the garden - we had been doing some building work - and I went and knelt in front of it. I took a handful of sand and let it drop on my stiff prick, then rubbed it roughly onto it, then standing up again jerked off until I ejaculated. I finished by taking a photo of me pissing on the ground.

I had, I should explain, been taking nude photos of my wife from almost the beginning of our relationship (I had even inherited some of her taken by her previous boyfriend), but now persuaded her to let me take more hardcore pics of her, including some of her playing with and sucking my penis. One night, after taking a few such shots, I handed her the camera and lay on the bed with my legs apart. "Take a photo of my cock," I said. She did as I asked. For the first time I really felt like a porn model.

At first, as I had done with that initial photo of me naked, I hid these pictures away. But then, as my inhibitions continued to decline, I began to post them on the net. At first I obscured my wife's face on these, but after while I didn't even do that. Inspired by the guy who had sent me the pic of his wife, I emailed pictures of mine with her pussy spread open to other men, who sent in return shots of them ejaculating onto her image. It thrilled me that strangers were looking at my wife's tits and pussy. (She had, and still has no idea that I have done this.) I also posted my cock on a number of gay sites.

This brings me to the subject of other men's cocks. Now, in my earlier years, while I never had anything against homosexuality, I considered myself straight and solely attracted to women. As an adolescent, my chief source of porn was girlie magazines. Later, I graduated to hardcore videos, and loved to watch men and women fucking, but my interest remained in the women.

I only ever came close to having a homosexual experience once. My wife and I were at the pub one night when we got to talking to a younger guy with long curly black hair, whose name was, appropriately enough, Rod. My wife asked if we could take him home with us because she wanted to fuck him, and eventually I said yes. So we went back to our place and had a few more drinks.

The next thing I knew I was lying on my belly, naked, on my bed, and felt something pushing against my arse. I realised that Rod was trying to push his cock into me. I panicked. For a start I wondered whether he was wearing a condom (next day, I found a used one next to the bed, so he was) but mostly I just wasn't ready for this. I raced out of the bedroom and shut myself in the spare bedroom next door.