Fuck Fantasies

The other day I went to my local mall, hoping to escape from the brutal summer heat. Just walking through the parking lot was enough to work up a sweat; by the time I got inside, the front of my light cotton T-shirt was wet enough that my dark chest hair showed through the fabric. I was hoping to buy a new set of gym clothes, but I didn’t want to look like I had come straight from a workout, so I decided to sit on a bench and let my shirt dry a bit first. As I walked over to the food court, a row of massage chairs caught my eye. My muscles were pretty sore that day, and I thought it would help me relax. Little did I know that I would end up humiliating myself in front of a bunch of strangers not 15 minutes later. The chair was $3 for 15 minutes, which seemed worth a shot, so I sat down in the middle chair and fed my three dollars bills in. I sat back in the sleek leather seat and positioned my arms and legs in the slots allotted for them. The armrests were set rather wide, and I found I had to arch my back and spread my arms a bit to reach them, which pulled the sleeves of my shirt tight to my body, exposing my crop of dark pit hair. When the machine whirred to life and the massage started, I was surprised to find out that the chair had several pockets that filled with air and tightened around me. I found it pretty much impossible to move my ankles, and it had tightened around my wrists as well. However, that wasn’t the only problem. I had read online somewhere that abstaining from jerking off made your workouts better, so I was on day three of absolutely zero release, which was pretty much a new record for me. The vibrations running through the chair began to get me hard almost instantly. That day I was wearing an old pair of boxers under a pair of grey sweatpants, so there wasn’t much resistance down there, and I watched in horror as my growing semi started to make a visible bulge. I shifted a bit in the chair, trying to get into a less compromising position, but then my situation got even worse; all my shifting caused my semi to flop out of the front of my boxers and rub directly against the soft lining of my sweats. Meanwhile, the massage chair was rubbing my thighs, my back, my aching biceps, my whole body so perfectly. I should have been in heaven, but I was in hell. Freed from its cotton prison, my cock stiffened to a full erection that tented my sweats out prominently. Nervous sweat dripped from my forehead, down my back, and from my hairy pits. Already there was a drop of precum forming on the tip of the tent I was pitching- and boy was I pitching one. My cock stuck straight up in my sweats, and I couldn’t move my hands to re-position it. I checked the timer- there was still more than ten minutes left! I couldn’t believe that I had boned up so fast. I felt pathetic. Even worse was the crowd that began to gather. The mall was never crowded on weekday afternoons, and today was no exception. However, the row of massage chairs was right in front of a large sporting goods store at the end of the mall complex, so there were a few guys milling about the area. My massive tent seemed to have caught the attention of a few of them, and they looked like they were calling their friends over, too. My cock was visibly throbbing now, a river of precum sliding down the outside. My heavy balls ached. I had to get out before I got even more excited. I squirmed some more in the chair, trying to at least slip my arms out. My t-shirt rode up as I tried to slide down, exposing my thick treasure trail. Worse, all my movement was just making my cock rub against my sweats more, a feeling that was too good to ignore. I still had a little over five minutes left on the timer. A big group of guys were watching now, and I saw more than a few cell phone cameras pointed my way. My face was bright red, but I had nowhere to hide. The timer reached five minutes left, and the back of the chair reclined suddenly- not a lot, but enough to thrust my hips further forward, my cock now straining at the material of my sweats. I felt another jet of precum soak my sweats and I knew I wasn’t going to make it. I was going to cum in my sweats right here in the mall, in front of a bunch of guys my age, because I didn’t have the stamina to hold my load after only three measly days of not jerking off. My hips bucked a few times, my cock twitching like crazy as my load rose in my shaft. I began to thrash around, hoping to spare myself some humiliation, but it was not to be. The soft fabric of my sweatpants was massaging my cockhead more and more each sweaty, precum-drenched second, and I couldn’t take it any longer. With a low groan, my hips bucked hard and I lost all control. I threw my head back as a hard orgasm washed over me, and my cock began to fill my sweatpants with a thick, overdue load. I watched helplessly as spurt after spurt of creamy white jizz seeped through the fabric, staining the crotch of my sweatpants a dark grey. I couldn’t help but let a moan or two loose- the feeling of blowing a load while getting a full body massage was incredible. The crowd was going wild, and one guy was laughing so hard that I thought he might pass out. My orgasm over, I flopped back in my seat, my energy fully spent, and I waited for the timer to run out. My shirt was soaked in sweat, and my sweats were soaked in jizz. My boner showed no signs of deflating, and was still going strong at full mast when the chair finally released me a minute later. I wasted no time in getting out of there, tucking my boner up in my waistband and heading downstairs. I drew quite a few eyes on the way out- I was red-faced humiliated, and the bulge of my persistent erection was only barely concealed. The moment I was out the door, I whipped my sweaty shirt off and tucked into my waistband in order to hide the sticky, telltale stain. It felt good to air out my pits in the summer sun, and when I got back to my car, I stripped my sweats off and gave my boner the same treatment. I drove home in my boxers, my cock eventually softening up during the drive. It only took me a half hour to get home, but my the time I got back and rinsed myself off under the backyard hose, the video of me shooting a load in my sweatpants was already making the rounds online, and had a couple thousand views. The comments were pouring in, mocking my predicament and my critical lack of stamina. As I read through them, my cock began to once again stiffen to full mast…

When I was in basic training, the drill sergeants used to wake us up every morning at the ass crack of dawn, and we would have to throw on some clothes and go for our morning run. Just as I was getting used to this pattern, we had our first surprise inspection. The sergeant barged into our barracks and demanded that we all get up immediately and stand in front of our bunks in a line down the middle of the room. We all jumped to our (bare) feet, caught totally off-guard. Now, it’s very hard to get any privacy in basic, and I hadn’t gotten any relief in quite some time, so I was wildly horny 24/7 anyway, but even before entering basic I would always wake up with a severe case of morning wood. That day was no exception, and I hopped out of bed only to find that my rock hard cock had woken up before me. A lot of the other guys probably had morning wood too, but they all had on t-shirts and sweatpants, which were the standard issue pajamas we were supposed to wear, and so they were able to stealthily do the belt tuck and hide their problem. Theoretically, I was also supposed to be dressed like everyone else, but I hated sleeping in anything but underwear (partly because I needed to give my morning wood room to breathe). Instead of the ‘uniform’ I had elected to sleep in a pair of old blue boxers and nothing else. They had become a little small on me, and the fabric was worn thin from years of rubbing my cock through them. Stretched out to the maximum by my raging morning wood, they didn’t leave much to the imagination. My cock pointed straight up to the ceiling, every vein visible, pulling the waistband away from my body, which exposed the thick patch of pubes under my dark treasure trail. My balls were practically hanging out of one of the leg holes, and a dark precum stain was already forming. Basically, I was in super deep shit, the deepest shit I could have possibly been in. The guys near me had already noticed, because there was no way they could overlook the obscene tent in my boxers, and they were red-faced, desperately trying to stifle their laughter as the sergeant made his way down the aisle to inspect the condition of our bunks. I could feel nervous sweat form at the nape of my neck and under my arms as he got closer; my boner showed no signs of going down, and even if it did, I was going to get dressed down for not being in regulation clothing anyway. Finally, one of the guys watching me lost his control over his laughter, and let out an audible guffaw. My face flushed. The sergeant whipped around, his boots squeaking on the concrete floor, and stomped down to the middle of the aisle. He was so focused on the laughing recruit that he didn’t even look my way. “Is this funny to you, recruit?” he asked solemnly. The guy straightened his posture. “No, sir.” “Care to share with the class?” “Uh…no, sir.” To his credit, he hesitated when answering, unwilling to throw me under the bus, but the direction of his gaze gave it away. The sergeant noticed me for the first time, and his expression was so furious that I thought his head would explode. “Recruit! What the fuck is going on here?” Now everybody had their eyes on me- or rather, on the tent I was pitching in my boxers. I had no idea how to answer that, but the sergeant didn’t even wait for me to reply. “This is disgraceful! Where…” for a moment he ran out of steam, so mad that he didn’t even know where to begin “…where is your regulation gear?” I stood at attention, which pushed my boner out even more. “In my trunk, sir.” I answered in as clear of a voice as possible. I had to play along if I didn’t want to get in even more trouble. “Why are they in your trunk and not on your body?” “They’re uncomfortable, sir.” “And these…are more comfortable?” he said, gesturing to my boxers and, by extension, to my unbearably stiff cock. “Y-yes, sir.” The sergeant paused for a moment, and glanced at the faces of the rest of the room. It clicked for him, probably, that this was a moment where he could showcase his control. I realized that I was about to be made an example of, in front of everyone. “I can’t even begin,” he began, “to express how disrespectful to show yourself like this in front of a superior officer.” I gulped. “Not only are you not dressed regulation, not only are you barely dressed at all…” he paused for effect. “To top it all off, you’re pitching a tent, recruit.” There was audible laughter, and this time the sergeant did nothing to suppress it. All I could do was stand there and take it. I was sweating buckets now, my face beet red. My boner showed no signs of going down; if anything, all the attention was only making me harder. “It will take me quite some time to come up with a fitting punishment…” he continued, his eyes wandering around the room. “but for the time being…do some pull-ups, recruit.” He gestured to the pull-up bar at the front of the room, a thick metal rod jammed in the top of the doorframe. “Yes, sir.” I responded, defeated. I walked down the center aisle over to the doorframe, and the other recruits were now openly pointing at the tent in my boxers. I reached up for the bar, my back towards the group, but the sergeant stopped me. “Face us, recruit.” “Yeah dude, show us your rock hard…abs.” another guy joked. The sergeant didn’t scold him; if anything, he laughed. I did as I was told and turned around. The bar was about 6 and a half feet off the ground, high enough that I had to jump for it. I reached up and grabbed on, hanging for a moment to fix my grip. My bare feet only barely scraped the floor. Another roar of laughter rippled through the crowd, and I realized that they were making fun of my hairy armpits, now fully on display. “Damn, we should call you gorilla!” the same guy from before yelled out, clearly enjoying his role as the comic relief. “Yeah, do some pull-ups, gorilla pits!” someone else added in. Guys were crowding around me now, so I couldn’t even attach the voice to the face. I started to haul myself up on the bar, quickly reaching a regular rhythm. Every time I did a rep, my hips curled up like I was humping something, which only served heightened everyone’s amusement. After about 40 reps I started to get a little tired, and couldn’t help but let out a few grunts as I continued to haul myself up. “Wow, he grunts like a gorilla, too.” I ignored this and kept doing reps. “Go to 100.” The sergeant commanded. “Ngh…yes…sir.” I responded. Every time I went up or down, my boxers slid over my hard cock, massaging it from top to bottom. I knew the wet spot at the tip was growing even larger than before. I kept going for a few minutes longer, trying to block out the constant comments about my sweaty pits and raging tent. Then, on rep 72, my cock slipped completely through the fly of my boxers. ”Whoa, look who came out to play.” “Release the kraken!” I was dripping like a faucet, my cockhead almost purple from the immense amount of blood rushing to my member. I paused for a moment, hanging from the bar. “Sir, permission to adjust, sir?” The drill sergeant shook his head and ordered me to finish my set. The guy in the front row, however, took this chance to reach out and pull my boxers down to my ankles. My hard cock slipped out through the fly and then slapped back hard against my stomach with a heavy thwack. Now my cock was totally exposed; my heavy, aching balls, my thick pubes, my towering erection all on view. “Good idea, recruit. I’m sure that’s more…comfortable for him.” The sergeant said, throwing ym words from earlier back into my face. He told me to finish the set, and so I did, finally dropping off the bar in exhaustion after the 100th rep. I stood in front of my peers, sweaty and panting, my leaking cock poking out of the front of my boxers, and waiting for my next command. That was all I could do. “Well done.” The sergeant commended me. “That was a strong set. I think you deserve a reward.” My cock throbbed visibly, bringing about more laughter. “I hereby give you permission to…relieve yourself. It must be very difficult for a man your age to be so extremely, abnormally aroused for so long.” I saluted. “Thank you, sir.” “However, you have to do it here. Right now.” I blanched. The guys, however, were into it. “Yeah, c’mon, show us how long you last!” “We wanna see you shoot, recruit!” The sergeant took a timer from his pocket, the one he used to time our morning runs. “As you know, part of being a healthy solider is being sexually fit. An average man your age can last for at least an hour…however, given your current condition, I’ll give you a handicap.” He messed with the stopwatch a bit. “I’ll give you thirty minutes. If you ejaculate any earlier than that, well…” he smiled. “We’ll see.” I wasn’t even sure that I would last five minutes, let alone thirty. In fact, I never lasted much beyond ten, even when I was jerking off normally. In this situation, with everyone looking at me…I might not even make it past the 60 second mark. The sergeant hit the button. “Go ahead, recruit.” I tentatively wrapped my hand around my throbbing cock, and was immediately greeting with the feeling of an impending orgasm. My balls rose up, and I instinctively pushed my hips forward, in effect humping the palm of my hand. I could feel my cum rising in my shaft already, and I realized with horror that I was going to fall very, very short of the one minute mark. “Ah..sir…” I moaned. “What, close already?” someone asked. “Fuck, what a one-pump chump.” “Isn’t it ‘two-pump chump’?” “Yeah, but this dude isn’t even going to make two pumps.” He was right. My cock was so sensitive that anything more was going to set it off. I gave it one more hard stroke, all the way to the base, and that was it. My cock erupted with shocking force, sending thick white spurts of jizz all over my chest, my hairy stomach, and my pubes. The guys around me jumped back, howling with laughter. I was in my own world, a slave to my orgasm, pumping my cock fast and hard as I rode the euphoria out. I shot the biggest load I had ever seen- by the time I was done it had dripped all over the floor, even pooling in between my toes. The room stank of my sweat and jizz. For a moment, I was speechless. “13 seconds, recruit.” The sergeant began, his voice dripping with disappointment. “It only took a mere 13 seconds for you to shoot your load. What a truly pathetic display. You’re never going to be much good for anything other than jizzing your pants.” He put his watch back in his pocket and walked by me towards the door. “Everyone, hit the showers and meet me on the field for morning fitness.” He pointed to me. “Except for you. You can come right down, no shower.” For the rest of the day, I was covered with my own load, which dried to my white t-shirt and stained it. From that day on, everyone called me either “Gorilla” or “Trigger”, even the other drill sergeants. I was the subject of constant pranks. The other recruits would hide my clothes while I was in the shower, forcing me to walk naked across base back to my bunk. This escalated into them hiding all of my civilian clothes, so I would end up eating in the mess hall in just my boxers almost every day. And I was never allowed to use the pull-up bar again unless I was naked. The sergeants probably thought that it would be good for the other recruits to bond by picking a common target, and they didn’t say anything. In fact, the sergeant who had inspected us that day, who timed me as I ejaculated humiliatingly and prematurely in front of all my peers, told me at the end of basic that I helped morale so much, he wanted me to stay for one more session…

Don’t you just love when two buds bond over a shared cock?

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