Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Unexpected company at the lake

I keep thinking back to experiences in my past to find material for this blog, and just trying to recreate them is fun. Some of the stories I will have to keep to myself, or at least keep for later, as the other people in them are too easily recognizable to people who know me. Some of the stories I will write anyway, but keep to myself for the time being. Sometimes I get permission, of course, as with the stories involving James, but that’s just possible with the people I’m still in touch with. But in the story I’ll write today, which happened years ago, I don’t think people will recognize the guy I’m with. I will call him Kevin.

It was one of the hottest days of summer. Kevin and I had decided to go cycling into the woods to try to find a place where we could bath a little and be a bit cooler than in the dry city. We knew the area well, and knew where it was crowded and where it was not. After getting into the woods, we had been passing the occasional person walking, but then we hadn’t seen anyone for about ten minutes. We locked our bikes by the forest road and walked down a tiny path to a lake we had been to before. There were noone there. This was not surprising – with all the rocks it was not one of the best lakes to get into or out from. But it was quiet.

Of course, we had brought swimwear, but as we were all alone and as we were burning after cycling in the sun, we just tore off our clothes and carefully manoeuvred into the lake, trying not to be hurt on the sharp stones. This was particularly difficult for me, as I was spending most of my time looking at Kevin instead of looking down at where I was threading. We were good friends, but he didn’t know that I had a crush on him. And I hadn’t often seen him naked, so I had to make the most of it. He was getting quite tanned after spending a lot of time in the sun this summer, and he had a very clear tan line, showing that he usually wore a small bathing suit. His bum was therefore milky white. He was a quite skinny guy, although he had strong enough muscles to go faster than me on the bike if he wanted to.

Then finally we were a couple of metres from the shore and could start swimming. We were playing around like kids usually do, splashing water, racing each other, trying to “drown” the other one and so on. It was all good, clean fun, and very refreshing on this sunny day.

We had ended up maybe thirty metres away from our starting point (and our clothes) when Kevin suddenly said “Sssh!” He had heard some noises, and it was obvious from his expression that he didn’t enjoy the thought of being caught in the nude. At the moment, we were out of sight of our clothes, as a slab of stone stood out from the shore and was in the way, but Kevin swam carefully out – and then swam back to me. He didn’t say a thing, but I could see in his face that some people had found “our” place. Kevin gestured that we should get to the shore to avoid being seen by them, for instance when they started to take a bath. So we got up, as silently as we could.

Of course, everybody who has read my blog will know that I found this situation interesting even then. I was suddenly standing naked in the forest with a friend I had a crush on, and we had no way of getting back to our clothes without being seen by these people. Kevin whispered that it was two guys and two girls, and that they had been sitting on the shore maybe two metres from our clothes when he had looked. We discussed what to do, and as we quickly agreed that we would not want to go anywhere without our clothes, we should try to find somewhere a bit secluded so that nobody – not the four now blocking our way to our clothes nor anyone else – should see us. Luckily, we didn’t have to look for such a place for long, only a bit further away we saw a few slabs of rock with a small space between – surely it would be possible to wait between these for a while?

Sitting there in the sunlight with Kevin, naked, afraid of being caught, had the obvious effect on me. I got horny. I hope I will never be in a situation in which my life depends on me not being horny, because that will certainly make me get instantly hard… Kevin saw this, of course, but he tried to look at the lake or to look me directly in my eyes as he whispered to me, but he couldn’t avoid getting a bit hard himself. I don’t know if I’d heard the word “grower” yet, but I certainly saw one then – Kevin didn’t have a particularly impressive dick when it was soft – I had even heard him being teased that he could hide his dick behind his thumb. But now, he was just as big as me or even bigger.

My instinct was to try to keep his dick up, and I guessed that it was the danger that made him horny, so I said “It’s pretty exciting, isn’t it? If they swim halfway across the lake and just a little to the right, they’ll see us…” He shot a worried glance across the sea, but then he looked back at me – and not at my eyes this time, but at my fully erect cock. He laughed: “We could have played rock-scissors-paper to decide who should go back and get our clothes, but I guess none of us can with those raging hard-ons!” “Wow, it’s huge,” I said, and I saw that he enjoyed the attention. Anyway, we were now both so horny that I guess we could have said anything without changing the direction this was going. I pretended that I was sitting a bit uncomfortably, so I moved a bit closer to him. He moved a bit backwards and towards me, so that our dicks were on the same level. Then I, only tentatively, moved my hand towards his dick, and as he didn’t utter a sound of protest, I went on to feel how hard he was. In a flash of logic I remembered that he was left-handed and that it was nice that he was on my right, because now his hand sought my cock as well. We started, slowly, to jerk each other off. I looked at his face, then at his big dick and then at the lake, trying to figure out if the people had started swimming. Then I looked at his dick again. And within just two minutes, his cum was spurting out of his big cock, making drops of liquid on his skinny torso. As he came, he kept jerking me off, but changed his rhythm and his strength a tiny bit. I wanted to keep the cum away for a little longer, but I couldn’t resist. As he held my dick at a different angle than I had held him, my cum was shot into the air only to fall down on his hand.

“We can’t stay here all day”, I whispered, “and I guess you don’t want to be found here with cum all over your belly and your hand. So I suggest that we just have a tiny little swim, then get to the shore a bit away from them, and then go over to get our clothes, pretending not to worry about a thing.” I saw that Kevin liked the idea, and he nodded. So we got into the water to get the cum off, then got back up and walked towards the four people. Finally I could also see them clearly, and happily, I didn’t know them. They were young, but years older than us. The boys even were quite good-looking, sitting there bare-chested and flirting with the girls. They didn’t notice us before we were just a few metres away, and then Kevin and I did exactly as planned, we just walked quietly past them to get our clothes. The girls started to giggle violently, while the boys didn’t seem to know what to do or think. When we got to our clothes, for some reason we didn’t put them on, we just each took our own bundle of clothes and carried them up the narrow path towards our bikes. Then, only when we were out of sight from our audience, we stopped to dress. But we could still hear them, and I clearly heard one of the girls say to the boys: “Why can’t we do that? Do you dare to skinny-dip with us?”

With our clothes back on, Kevin and I rode back to the city. We don’t know if the boys and the girls ended up swimming in the nude together, but I surely hope so. Kevin and I met once in a while for some years until he moved to another city for university. We always ended up horny – and we knew what to do about that.

Friday, May 22, 2009


Today, I will post on a topic that may seem very boring: architecture. I’ve always been fascinated by how architecture may sometimes invite (or positively demand) situations of exhibitionism and/or voyeurism.

While this has been an interest to me, I didn’t know that others were also giving this much thought before I raised the subject in a conversation at the local gay bar (London) a few weeks ago. It turned out that everybody round the table had examples of architecture which did, in one way or another, lead to nude people being seen by non-nude people in unintended ways – if we rule out the idea that the architects themselves were actually having this in mind when they made their drawings.

From my own experience, I’ve several times been to public toilets where the floor or the ceiling (or both) have been made of a polished material, shiny enough that you can see your mirror image in it. And – needless to say – if you can see your own mirror image, of course you can also see what goes on in the cubicle next to yours. More than once, I have jerked off in such a situation and seen that the guy “next-door” has noticed and started to watch. Of course, it is impossible for the other guy to complain if he doesn’t like what he sees, because he would be asked why he was peeking at you in the first place. How the people who have made the interior decisions (or the people actually doing the polishing) have managed to miss this point, is beyond me, but I am forever thankful.

One of my friends at the bar told me about the high school he went to. This high school had the swimming lessons in an old swimming pool which was also used by all other grades in the small community. Apparently, the pool was designed in the belief that it would only ever be used by one gender at a time, because there were no door separating the swimming pool and the shower area. Granted, there was only one of the showers which could be seen from the pool, but my friend admitted that he always made sure to take his time on the way to the shower, so that all the other showers would be occupied. Then he would enjoy showering in full view of the swimming pool.

Not all my gay friends are exhibitionists, by all means. Another of my friends told me about his school, where the locker rooms were in the basement. The small windows in the locker rooms were at the top of the walls, right above ground level, and were facing the school yard. This meant that the windows (of frosted glass) were almost always closed, but when the heat and the damp got too bad, someone would open one of the windows. This meant that people in the school yard could come over and have a look in. My friend admitted to opening the window on a few occations – after he himself had had the time to put on his underwear at least. He enjoyed to see how some of his class-mates were oblivious to the fact that they could be seen from above.

While we were discussing locker rooms, still another of my friends described how the locker room at his local soccer team was more or less just a small “cabin” put next to the soccer field. There was only one door separating the locker room and the outside, so every time someone went through the door, people outside could look in. While this was usually not an issue (as noone was around), it did happen at certain events, such as soccer tournaments, that there would be both players, parents and other spectators who happened to be outside at just the “right” moments.

Another topic when it comes to locker rooms was mirrors. Almost all of my friends had examples of locker rooms where there was no direct view from outside (or from a swimming pool or gym hall) into the locker room, but where mirrors had been put up near the entrance which gave a very different situation.

Yet another friend said that he had been to a museum in Bergen in which the toilet had a huge window facing a street. The window had (persienner) which meant that people could not look in, but my friend turned them a little, so that everyone outside could look in. He didn’t tell us why he did that or what he made out of it, but he said that when he passed on the street outside hours later, the (persienner) was still in the same position.

Many of my friends had also been to hotels with interesting opportunities. Of course, I prefer youth hostels where I can sleep in dorm rooms – it’s cheaper and offers other possibilities. But let’s discuss hotels now: One of my friends had been to a hotel in Gran Canaria in which the living room (and bedroom) window seemed to face a wall. What might not be obvious from inside the room, was that there was a path on top of the wall, on which every hotel guest coming late back from the city would go on their way to their rooms (after the main entrance had closed). My friend had not lived in this apartment himself, but had come home late at night once and had seen a guy naked on the bed, watching tv, with no curtains closed. Needless to say, my friend watched closely every night he came back from town, and the guy would be there every night, always oblivious or careless about what could be seen from outside.

Another friend mentioned staying at hotels where the hotel rooms faced a common area, and which had (just like the toilet mentioned above) (persienner) instead of curtains. These (persienner) did leave an inch or so on each side, which meant that people could, in theory, see as much as they wanted just by coming close. And just as with the (persienner) mentioned above, they could of course be put in different positions, meaning that it was easy to “forget” that it was possible to watch.

A more modern phenomenon is the bathrooms with glass walls. Of course, the glass walls mean that you can be watched from the living room while showering. One of my friends, however, pointed out that as we are not yet used to having glass walls in the bathroom, we do not always remember to close the living room curtains before having a shower. He himself had been to such a modern hotel somewhere, and had enjoyed having a shower while being in plain view by people outside.

One further thing that was mentioned in the discussion was public toilets in which there is a gap between the door and the wall, meaning that you can actually see or be seen as much as you want – and just as mentioned before, it is hard to complain when you see something through a crack in a door.

I see that some of these examples are purely architectural, while others have more to do with interior design. I’m sure, however, that there are more examples of how architecture is done in a way that makes it possible (or even necessary) to be naked in view of others. (After all, this posting is made on the basis of one conversation with just a few friends.) If you have such examples, I would be happy to read them in the comments…

Sunday, May 17, 2009

The waiter

In my postings so far, I have written mostly about situations of a particular kind – the ones in which I am “innocently” naked, horny, bulging etc where others can see me. In many cases this has lead to other things. Of course, these are not the only situations leading to sex, but I have written about them because I find them particularly interesting. This time, I’ll write about another situation entirely.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned in my blog that I went to the Canary Islands (Playa Ingles) for a week last winter. Needless to say, there were many opportunities for nudity, being horny and so on during that week. The cutest guy was not found in that way, however.

I had no raunchy intentions when I went out to have lunch on one of my first days there. I had had a good night out and had slept when breakfast was served at my hotel. So I was hungry and having a tiny hang-over as I went into the first restaurant I saw. I sat down, and almost immediately a waiter was at my table. He was gorgeous, 18 or 19 years old, with Spanish looks, including black hair, brown eyes and a great body. I ordered my meal and a coke, he went away, came back with the coke, then with the food and finally with the bill. All the time he did some nice small-talk but no more than that. As I was about to put down the money and leave, I finally awoke to the fact that I was in danger of leaving the restaurant without a plan on how to meet him in private. I knew nothing about him – not his name, not his phone number and certainly not his sexuality. I decided to do the simplest thing possible:

“Excuse me, could I ask you something”, I asked. Of course he came over – I hadn’t even paid my bill yet. “Which of the beaches around here would you recommend?” Having gotten that question hundreds of times before, he answered “There are all kinds of beaches here – what do you prefer?” I asked him what kinds of beaches there were. “Well, there are beaches suitable for families, with shallow water good for the children. Then there are beaches good for surfing. There are beaches where you can rent a sunbed and buy drinks, and there are more isolated beaches.” I waited, wanting him to go on. “Of course, there are also nude beaches.” “Oh,” I said, “where are those?”

By this time, I think he finally got out of his usual answering routine and looked at me as something else than just one of a thousand customers. He sat down opposite me and pointed at the map: “It’s all of this area.” “Okay, that’s interesting”, I said. “Are there differences even within this area?” “Yes,” he said. “The area closest to the town is what I would call a “family” nude beach. If you go a bit further, you will find the gay part.” “Okay,” I said, “and what is the best way of going there?” Of course, by the way I looked at him, he must have understood that I was interested in him and not only in the beaches. He evidently decided to play the game a bit further and see where it would end. “Again, that depends on your taste. You could go by the shore, of course, maybe that is the easiest path. Or you could chose a path through the dunes. However, you should be aware that there are activities taking place there.”

By now, I didn’t know exactly how to proceed, so I just said “That sounds like a tourist attraction.” and smiled. At this point he had made up his mind: “Well, I’m heading out there after work. If you want to, you could join me.”

At times, life can be so easy. After making a decision to meet when he finished work at five, I went back home and started to look forward to the thing. At five, we met and walked together through the city and into the dunes. As we were entering the dunes, he took off his shirt, and I did the same. When we were (momentarily) in a spot where noone else could be seen, he started to unbuckle his belt, and soon both of us were standing there naked. He touched my dick gently, and it started to get hard, just as a guy with a huge erection appeared in the distance. I nodded in his direction to make my waiter aware of it, but he just took my hand and put it on his cock. Soon, we were both sporting erections. My waiter went down on his knees to start to blow me, and I could just stand there, enjoying the sun, the breeze, his tongue, the beautiful sand and the knowledge that there were people all around us – most of them still too far away to see us, but some close enough to enjoy what they were seeing.

Of course, my waiter had done this before – he was a master in the art of sucking. To avoid a premature ejacuation, we switched positions. Now it was me sitting on my knees in the sand, enjoying his tanned and solid cock. I licked the head, I licked the shaft, I clicked my tongue towards his piss-hole. He moaned in pleasure, and again we had to change positions to avoid coming. Now, we rose up and stood next to each other, each jerking off the other, looking out into the dunes, in which six men were standing, staring at us. After maybe two more minutes, he came with a great burst, and I couldn’t keep mine in either. We wet the sand with our sperm. Then we kissed each other.

Then we went to the beach to relax together – and to get to know each others more. We met a few more times during the week, and I also went back to the dunes alone. All of these experiences were great. But I remember the first one most vividly, and try to remind myself that I should never, ever, let a gorgeous man go out of my life without even trying to get to know him better…

Friday, May 15, 2009

New summer resolutions

People tend to have New Year's resolutions. For me, a new summer is better than a new year - in summer, people wear less clothing, they go skinny-dipping and they get less inhibited. Therefore, I've started to collect "new summer resolutions".

1. I will go to nude beaches at least twice a week. And whenever I notice that a guy is staring at me, I will find a way of making both of us get a hard-on.

2. I'll stop wearing underwear - and make sure to wear shorts that shows off the bulge.

3. Whenever I go skinny-dipping in the lakes around Oslo, I'll do it within view from the foot-path.

4. From time to time, amateur photographers ask me to model for them. This summer, I'll say "yes" to outdoor nude shots at least three times.

(If you have further suggestions, please send them to me in the comment field.)

Friday, May 1, 2009


Lately, I've written about different things I do "to make things happen". Then I realized that there have been times when I haven't done anything at all to make things happen...

I remember one night in the summer of 2006. I was at London (Oslo's main gay bar) with two friends, John and Petter. We were just planning to have a few beers and then go home early. But we enjoyed ourselves, danced and had fun. About two o'clock, John suddenly came over to his table and picked up his jacket. He had met a guy at the dance-floor and was going home with him. Petter and I danced a little and drank a little, but about 2:20, he had ran into someone that he had had a crush on before, and was now going home with him. This left me all alone at my table with an almost full glass of beer to get rid of.

Quite quickly, a guy descended on the table. He was what I would normally describe as "not my type" - in his 50s, a bit fat and a bit bold. But I obviously had nothing better to do, and he seemed kind, so we started to talk. He turned out to be interesting and with a sense of humour and not too drunk, so I enjoyed myself. ... And then the lights were turned on, as they always are at three o'clock in Oslo. Time to go home. This guy, whose name was Bjarne, asked me if I wanted to have a drink with him at his place, which was just around the corner. I tried to fool myself into thinking that "a drink would be nice", although I of course knew what "a drink" really meant. Anyway, I accepted and joined him.

I was a bit ambivalent about this thing, but I decided to just be calm and enjoy myself. His apartment WAS actually just around the corner (surprisingly), and I WAS actually offered a drink. I accepted the drink, and went over to his bookshelves to look at what kind of books he had. Then, all of a sudden, he was standing behind me and his fingers were opening the button - and then the zipper - of my white trousers. It was a bit surprising that he would do it this quickly, so I didn't immediately respond. As a matter of fact, I was just standing there still while he was pulling down my trousers. Then he took the glass from my hand and put it on the shelf, and pulled my t-shirt off me. And, still without me really doing much, he pulled down my Calvin Kleins.

I had never before experienced to be undressed like that without in some way participating or at least being asked. And now, he obviously thought of me as an extremely passive guy, so he kept the initiative. "Go to the bedroom", he said, "and get face down on the bed". I didn't even look at him, I just did as he wanted, because I knew that I wanted it too. When I got down on the bed, I turned to look at him, and he had quickly undressed and put on a condom on his hard and solid cock. I turned over to the pillow again, and felt his fingers making room for something bigger. Then, after maybe two minutes of fingering, his main tool entered.

At this point, I was a bit confused. Of course I had been fucked before, but I had never before acted this passive and let others rule me like this. Did this mean that I was supposed to be passive in bed as well, or would he want me to work with him to make it good. I decided that he might be imagining me to be an unexperienced and forlorn 18-year old, and that it would be better to keep playing that role. So instead of joining his rhythm, I stayed passive, and he seemed to enjoy it. To my surprise, I enjoyed it, too. Not having to make an effort, made me focus even more on the sensations. And he must have had a lot of experience of fucking in his life...

After a while, he turned me over on my back, got my feet up in the air and entered me again. Again, I let him do all the work, and I could now look him in the eyes and see that he really enjoyed this. And after a while of this, he made me sit on all fours in his bed, and he finished his fucking with a big burst of sperm.

After this, he offered me to stay the night. I wasn't too keen on walking home, so I accepted. He had a spare room with a bed, and let me go to bed there.

In the morning, I woke up quite early from the sun coming through the window. I had no underwear on (as usual), no cover - and I had a morning erection. The door to the corridor was open, and Bjarne walked past the door, noticed that I was awake, and stopped in the doorway. "Do you want breakfast?" he asked. Then he said "All of you is awake, it seems" and looked at my cock. I took hold of my cock with my right hand and looked at it, faking surprise; "You are right", I said. Then I started to jerk off slowly. I looked at Bjarne, then at my cock, then back at Bjarne, as I was stimulating myself. "I had very good sex last night", I said as I was jerking off, "I was so lucky that you chose to sit down at my table". He stayed in the doorway, but was looking at nothing but me. "When you asked me home for a drink, I was hoping there would be something more", I said, "and as your hands started to undress me, I longed for your body next to mine. And as your big cock massaged me inside, I was almost screaming with passion. And when you burst inside me, it spread warmth all through my body." As I said this and looked him into his eyes, I shot a huge load over my stomach and chest. And I kept looking at him while I slowed down my jerking, and then let go of my cock, touching the sperm with my fingers and then putting two of the fingers in my mouth, tasting my sperm.

Then, after being quiet for a few moments, I asked if I could have a shower. He pointed me to the bathroom and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. We had a nice breakfast with a discussion about recent events, and I went home. When John and Petter asked me later in the day if "I got some" as well, I could say with confidence - "Indeed I did..."