I write ENM stories. 18+. This blog is for my shorter stuff, usually with
reference pictures. Size queens can check out my longer stories here:
https://archiveofourown.org/users/alekos/pseuds/alekos
The only way into or out of the remote little village where Finn grew up was to walk along the long decommissioned train tracks for hours and hours on end. So when Finn decided to make his way to the city to get a way better job than he could get in the village, he knew he was in for a long hike.Â
Like everyone in his rinky-dink town, Finn lived modestly. The villagers rarely got any goods from outside civilization, so Finn had only one set of clothes to his name. And he knew he couldn’t show up to a job interview in the big city with filthy dust- and sweat-stained clothes. No one would take him seriously! A brilliant idea occurred to him instead: he’d just carry the clothes with him in a duffel, and put them on when he got there. Sure, it meant he’d be completely naked for most of the journey, but the path was always empty. It was still nerve-wracking, but Finn felt confident that he could pull this off.
That was until he hit a T-junction in the tracks.
The crossroads didn't feel eventful for Finn: the few people in town who’d made the journey before had already told him which way to turn so there was no risk of getting lost. What he didn’t know is that these new tracks hadn’t been abandoned. When a pair of headlights came thundering towards him, Finn marveled at the sight. He’d never seen a train before! He didn’t realize they were so large, sleek, loud…
And fast.
Finn dodged out of the way of the train at the last minute, its horn blaring. His heart thundered at the close call. He'd barely made it with his life! But his duffel hadn’t been so lucky. Swinging behind him, the bag had gotten caught in the train’s wheels. What wasn’t being carried to the train’s next destination was floating down in the air around him, shredded to confetti.Â
Finn stood frozen in shock as the train sped past. He wasn’t one day out of town and already a near-death experience? He didn’t have the presence of mind to realize that the hundreds of passengers on the train needed only to glance out of their windows to see his complete nudity, not thinking clearly enough to try to cover himself. It was a small mercy that Finn had never seen a camera phone before—he didn’t have to live with the certainty that at least one of the commuters had surely captured him at his most vulnerable, that his entire body was saved on some stranger’s device, ready to be shared with whoever they wanted… or the internet at large.
It was only when the train had finally passed that Finn felt like he could breathe again, and when the reality of his situation hit him. He was trapped hours from home with his dick flopping in the wind. He had two options. Finn could admit defeat and make the long trek back home, walking through the dead of night, having to endure the stares of all of the townsfolk—friends, neighbors, the people he’d known all of his life—as he strode down main street buck naked. Or he could finish his journey. He was almost to the city already! He could taste the opportunity, the busy streets, the seedy alleyways. That place would transform him into the man he was always meant to be.Â
What kind of job would an uneducated, unskilled, but quite attractive young man with not even a shred of clothing to his name get in a place like that, I wonder? Well. At least he was sure to have a load of customers…
Sam grimaced as he posed for the newest progress pic he had to send to his personal trainer. He had been fine shedding his shirt when his trainer asked to see his developing pecs more clearly, and it wasn’t too out there to drop his shorts on leg day to properly display his upper thigh. When his trainer had insisted that Sam lose the underwear so he could evaluate his obliques, well… Sam was still getting used to it.Â
He was willing to do whatever it took to get results, though. His trainer ran him through five different diets and nine different supplements—not steroids or peptides, thankfully, and scooping out portions of creatine and protein powder wasn’t too much of a burden on Sam.Â
It was the semen retention that was really starting to get to him.
One month without orgasm and Sam was going insane. The slightest breeze made him pop a stiffy; he felt like he was on edge 24/7. Since his trainer insisted on early morning updates, Sam could count on always having a serious case of morning wood in every progress pic. It was humiliating! The worst of it was a week ago, when he’d had his first wet dream since puberty. Bleary eyed, he hadn’t even noticed the cum matted on his stomach and in his pubes until he’d already sent the photo, and by then it was too late. Sam panicked, sending profuse apologies to his trainer, but the man just praised him. It was important to track his retention as well as his muscle development, his trainer said, and Sam should make sure to include it in future.
Now Sam’s cum makes a regular appearance in his progress pictures.
Sam sighed as he sent off this newest picture, thankfully cum-free, and started to pull on a pair of white compression shorts. It was time for his morning run. He tried to ignore the fact that his ever-present erection tented the nylon obscenely. Sam’s trainer insisted that these were the proper uniform for running, but looking down at his own dick rendered in high relief made him ache to throw on a pair of basketball shorts or at least a shirt. It might hang down low enough to hide something, anything.
Then he looked back in the mirror and saw his abs, his sculpted body. He hadn’t looked like this a month ago—he hadn’t believed he could ever look like this, no matter what his trainer claimed. Sam’s dick twitched as he fawned over himself, a wet spot blossoming on the white fabric of his compression shorts.Â
There was no arguing with results. He would do whatever his trainer said, no questions asked. Pulling on his sneakers, Sam headed outside and took off at a jog, his leaking bulge bouncing with every step.
Amateur night at the strip club is always a blast. Average guys hopping up on stage, slowly pulling their shirts up and off, teasing their pants down before clumsily having to kick them off of their ankles. The volunteers rarely go all the way, and if they do flash their bits it's usually only for a few seconds before their underwear is swiftly pulled back up, but it’s still a treat when it happens.
Every so often, though, when a guy looks hot enough—and naive enough—the club’s employees have a little fun.
They’ll lead him backstage while the main act is still performing, asking that he put on a more fitting costume. He’ll be sat down in the green room among all the professional strippers in varying stages of undress, and they’ll descend on him like a team of beauticians on a blushing bride, primping and pampering and styling. And then they start asking for his clothes.
At this point the newbie always sputters and hesitates. But what did he expect, volunteering for a strip show? How else can he expect to put on his costume? So he’ll slowly and unceremoniously pull off his t-shirt, push his jeans to the floor. Underwear too, the strippers remind him, we’ve got a lovely set of red briefs picked out for you… or would you prefer a thong? And, even more slowly, even more reluctantly, the volunteer’s underwear will disappear into the crowd of hunks.
They always try to cover up here, cupping their hands over their junk. They might’ve expected stripping off their underwear would be a possibility, but so soon? How did I let my friends talk me into this, they must be thinking. The best volunteers are especially bashful, trying extra hard to hide their dicks because they don’t want to reveal the effect that being fawned over by a troupe of gorgeous hunks has had on them.Â
At least half of the amateurs will have a semi by now.
The strippers keep him there for a little while, letting the nerves build while club employees bustle in and out of the room. Everyone suddenly has urgent business to attend to and needs to cross through the room time and time and time again. Such a shame the quarters are so cramped that each passing employee needs to graze him on their way past, chest to chest, dick to ass…
Eventually, the manager will wave the volunteer over. Grateful to be remembered, they come running. What’s the hold-up? or Where’s my costume? or Will I get some clothes now? they’ll say. The manager waves it all off. Through here, he says, just through here. And, relieved to finally be getting something to wear, each volunteer rushes through the curtain, never recognizing it as the same one that leads out onto the stage.Â
Wolf whistles and cheers are sure to greet him. They’ll be his first clue that something’s not quite right while he adjusts to the blinding lights. But he’ll realize he’s been had, sooner or later. His hands will move back from shielding his eyes to shielding his crotch as soon as it hits him that he’s already on stage, with no special “costume” to speak of. The volunteers that panic and try to run back to the curtain suddenly find their way blocked by a wall of well-muscled men.
Now it occurs to the volunteer that really, this is what he signed up for. To be an amateur stripper, just for one night—to be ogled and catcalled and desired. He’ll drop his hands to his sides, eliciting another round of hoots and hollers. He’ll swing it around a little, just for fun.
But the art of a stripper is in the stripping. There’s not much of a show in just standing around naked. The audience grows restless. From off-stage the manager whispers, keep going! How does a man with nothing on him entertain an entire club?
Often, they dance. They’ll shake and shimmy and twirl, their dicks flopping around with them. Sometimes they try to show off even more, rubbing their hands all over their bodies to draw attention to their biceps, pecs, abs, thighs… They give their dicks a few tugs, just to plump it up a bit. They turn around and spread their cheeks, delighting in the howls from the audience at the sight of their winking hole.
But this volunteer is special. He is completely at a loss, out of ideas. Instead, he naively trusts the audience. He follows their shouted instructions to flex his biceps, pinch his nipples, helicopter his dick. When they beckon him to the edge of the stage, he comes mindlessly, kneeling down at their request. One pair of hands start feeling up his thighs, then two, then four. Audience members begin groping him with abandon, squeezing his muscles, fondling his cock. Someone starts fingering his asshole, someone else is jerking him off. They take him further than he would’ve gone on his own, much further, hands stroking and grabbing and fucking…
He doesn’t realize how close he is until he’s already cumming.
That signals the end of the show. Dazed, but suddenly back in his own mind without the heady high of arousal to shield him, the amateur stripper stumbles back through the curtain. The manager claps him on the back. The other strippers holler in congratulations. Still slick with his own cum, he finds a nearby stool and sits down to collect his thoughts. What had he just done?
Eventually, someone shakes him back to reality. The manager, coming around with a wad of bills. Your share of the tips you earned, he says. And from the auction of your clothes.Â
The money is almost enough to distract the volunteer from that second part. The auction of his clothes? That means… the manager grins and the volunteer gulps. Now, this space back here is for employees only, so unless you’d like to audition…
For the second time in one night, the naked man is turned loose to a rabid crowd of strip-club patrons, now without even the barrier of the stage keeping them apart. At least these tips should be enough to get me a ride home, he thinks, with an extra tip to make the cabbie overlook the fact that I’m naked… and sticky.
As he walks through the club, patrons start to take notice. Once more they crowd around, ogling, catcalling, patting, and the ghost of a smile plays across the volunteer’s lips.
When Alex had suggested midnight skinny dipping to his friends, he’d meant it mostly as a joke. He didn’t really want to give anyone the opportunity to see him in the altogether. But the rest of the group thought it was a riot, and even Alex came around to his own idea in time. The cover of night took the teeth out of the exposure; it was just a quick sprint to the beach anyway. After a little while, Alex was ready to congratulate himself on a great idea.
Until everyone headed back to their private cabins.
Alex walked into his room to find a scene of devastation. Furniture overturned, decorations missing, even the sheets on his bed were shredded. And everything Alex had brought with him had been stolen: his wallet, his toiletries… his clothes. Alex stood in shock, naked body silhouetted in the doorframe, then ran over to his friends’ cabins. Had the same thing happened to them? But all their doors were locked. When it became clear that his knocking wouldn’t wake up his sleeping friends, Alex became conscious that he’d been running around with his cock out for over half an hour now. Clutching his hands over his penis, he sprinted back to his cabin.
In the morning, Alex called his friends on the cabin’s landline, one of the very few things that hadn’t been stolen. They all gathered around the door to his cabin, then knocked together.
“Yo Alex, what’s the big deal? You were really vague over the phone.”
Alex cracked his door open just a bit, using it as cover while he spoke through the crack. “I got robbed last night! They took everything!”
The group craned their heads to try and see in the gap. “Let us see! How bad is it?” And with that, the men pushed the door open, charging into the tight cabin.
They gawked at the room, eyes trailing over the destruction, before they all settled on Alex. “What the fuck bro, why are you naked?” Alex stood sheepishly, hands desperately holding onto his dick and balls.
“I told you, they took everything! My clothes, my underwear… even the towels in the bathroom! All I have left are these damn flip-flops.”
“Oh shit, and we were out skinny dipping! Didn’t you lock your door?”
Alex glared at them. “Where the fuck was I supposed to keep a key when we were all nude on the beach? Besides, we’re at a fucking resort! I shouldn’t have to lock my door!” He sighed, composing himself. “Look, I just need to borrow some clothes. Can someone lend me a pair of shorts?”
His friends exchanged glances. They felt for Alex, they really did… but this was too good an opportunity to pass up. They exchanged wicked grins.
“I think you should just rock it, man. After all, it’s legal here…”
Alex’s glare returned. “For the natives maybe, but have you seen a single tourist hanging dong?”Â
“Come on, don’t you want to work on your tan?” Alex huffed in exasperation. “Fine, fine. Tell you what, if you pose for a few pictures, we’ll give you something to cover up with.”
Looking over his friends, Alex knew they were having too much fun to give it a rest. If having a few photos taken was the price of clothes, then he was going to have to live with it. “Fine.”
Immediately, four phones were trained on Alex’s body. “Why don’t you come over here, where there’s more light?” Dutifully, Alex plodded over to the doorway, posing there with his hands tightly protecting his genitals. His friends snapped a few pictures, then spoke again. “Come on, that’s not in the spirit of things! Move those hands, bro.” Alex folded his hands behind his back, cognizant that the resort’s main thoroughfare was just a few feet away. Anyone on their way to the front desk might walk past just to get a heaping eyeful of dick. “Now, big smile!” Alex gave an anxious grin, and the photo was taken.
“Okay, you’ve had your fun. Gimme the shorts.”
One of Alex’s friends disappeared into his nearby cabin, then reemerged to throw something at Alex. Thank God! Finally… But as Alex unwound the fabric, his face dropped. This wasn’t a pair of shorts! It was a hand towel, barely large enough to cover his front and back at the same time.Â
“You can’t be serious…” Alex tried to wrap the towel around his waist and found he had to hold it closed at one end. The tip of his dick threatened to peek out the bottom but it’s not like he could hold the towel any lower: his pubes were already spilling out the top. It almost felt worse than being naked.
“Come on, we’re heading to breakfast. We were going to just eat at the resort, but now I’m thinking we should explore the town.”
With every step, Alex’s dick swung forward, pushing out the thin fabric of the towel. This was going to be a long week…
David loved watching his neighbor Nancy. Cooking, cleaning, she looked good doing any little thing. But when she would sunbathe in her backyard in that tiny little bikini, well… that’s when David would pull the blinds half-closed, strip to his socks, and really go to town.
Of course, Nancy knew that her nosy neighbor jerked off whenever she tried to tan. The partial blinds provided very little cover from her lower vantage point. The first time she’d spotted him she’d been shocked and disgusted, her relaxing afternoon ruined by his lechery. The second time, she was ready. A hidden camera captured the whole incident through her kitchen window, all the way up until he blew his load on the double-glazed glass.
Nancy’d only meant to share the video with a few people. Close friends who could commiserate about the whole fucked-up situation. But a few became a handful, then more. Now the whole block knew about David’s proclivities. All Nancy had to do was send out a group text and rows of windows filled up with people holding binoculars and zooming cameras, ready to watch the peep show.
That many people can’t keep a secret forever, though. It was only so long before someone blabbed, and David was furious. He marched up to Nancy’s front door, screaming expletives, calling her a pervert. The irony of it all was lost on him. Their confrontation was ugly on both sides, with David swearing that all of their neighbors would never see a single inch of him again. The fun was over, it seemed…Â
…until Nancy threatened to stop her sunbathing routine. Torn between the threat of exposure and his favorite spank bank material, what would any red-blooded man choose? Whatever terms she wanted, he would do. He begged to do.
Now, David doesn’t bother closing the blinds halfway or dimming the lights before he pervs out over Nancy. He has to make sure he’s visible from all angles. And, once a month, he takes Nancy’s spot, stretching out on her deck chair completely nude, jerking off until he drenches his upper body, all for the eyes of his adoring fans.
“P-professor! I thought you didn’t have any more classes today—what are you doing here?”
“I got all the way to my car before I realized I left my keys at my desk! Silly me. But what are you boys doing here, the classroom is closed!”
“We were, uh, trying to get ahead on next week’s assignment. Practicing our figure drawing?”
Their deer-in-headlights looks made their story less than believable. The two young lovers may be sketching for now, but it was obvious that they had plans for some less academic activities too.Â
I pretended to believe them anyway.
“That explains your less-than-clothed friend, I suppose. But why does the artist have to be bare-chested?”
“We’ve been… trading places. I’m about to model anyway so…”
I fought to keep my eyebrows from raising in skepticism. What other reason could two young men have to be barely clothed in the same room as one another, I wonder…
“Of course. Well, I think it’s a splendid idea! Why don’t you get back to it.”
[...]
“...um, professor, aren’t you going to, well… leave?”
“Leave? Why would I leave when two promising young artists are in need of guidance? Here, why don’t I set up another easel for me to sketch a comparison piece…”
“That’s really not—!”
“Nonsense! Now, see how I capture the curve of the buttock? It’s critical to capture the overall movement of the figure, especially in such a dynamic pose…”
[...]
“You’re doing excellently as our model, by the way! I might’ve mistaken you for a professional if I didn’t already know you from class. Maybe it’s time for a break, though—why don’t we switch models!”
“Yes, professor.”
He started heading up to the stool before I called out.
“Don’t forget to drop the pants! This is a figure study, not a cloth study!”
“...yes, professor.”
“No wait, I have a better idea: a group pose. Both of you get up there.”
“But how are we supposed to learn to sketch if we’re both posing!?”
“What better way to learn the dynamism of the pose than by modeling it! Now why don’t you get right behind him and put your hands on his sides… no, a little closer than that. Closer! Come on, you’re friends right? Let your hips touch his hips… that’s better!”
“...”
“You two really are natural models… You know what, you two should model for class next week! It’d be much better than the senior citizens the university usually hires…”
“...yes professor…”
“You might have to practice your discipline though, that erection is fine here but would be highly unprofessional in front of your peers…”
Kevin rolled out of bed feeling like someone was driving a railroad spike into his eyeball. What time was it? He massaged his dick idly while he looked for his phone. Nothing like getting blue-balled by a girl at a party to give you some serious morning wood. God he was so hungover…
Fuck, 10:00 already? Kevin started digging around in his messy-ass dorm for his laptop. A year ago, there was no way he’d be making it to class on time but now every teacher was just a zoom link away. Thank God for the pandemic! Finally finding the computer under a pile of dirty laundry, Kevin opened it to a black screen. Damn, forgot to plug it in… Looks like we’re attending class on the small screen.
At no point while he set up his phone at his desk, leaning it against the wall, did Kevin ever put on a shred of clothing.
He didn’t need to! It’s not like he ever turned his camera on. Kevin just plopped his bare ass down on the uncomfortable dorm chair and tapped into his professor’s meeting, just two minutes late. That’s the earliest he’s been all semester!
Kevin zoned out almost immediately. He was still groggy, and hungover, and more than a little hard. His hand started rubbing his dick mindlessly again before starting to pump up and down more aggressively. A low moan escaped his lips—and the professor’s low drone stopped. All at once, Kevin came back to himself as he realized he wasn’t muted.
“Sorry, did someone have a question?”
That was close! His professor didn’t seem to have noticed exactly what the sound was, or who had made it, and Kevin quickly muted himself before he could be found out. Well, he was definitely awake now! After a few more moments of silence, the lecture resumed, and so did Kevin’s pumping. He was getting close, but it wasn’t long before another interruption.
“Okay, now we’re going to head into breakout rooms to discuss quotes from the reading! Make sure to select one group leader to share with the whole class when we regroup.”
Ah shit. Kevin’s right hand slowed its stroke while his left started leafing through his untouched copy of Mrs. Dalloway. How hard could it be to bullshit one quote? He was still fingering through pages when a girl’s voice started streaming out of his phone’s speakers.
“Hi everyone! Okay, so I chose a quote on page 157—”
“What the fuck Kevin, are you shirtless?” another girl interrupted.
 Kevin looked up in alarm, his limbs freezing. Sure enough, his naked chest and a bit of torso were neatly framed in the Zoom window. Fuck, moving into the breakout room must have turned his camera on!
He tried to laugh it off. “Haha yeah, just woke up so I’m still in my pajamas. Pajama pants. Sorry, I didn’t realize we’d have cameras on...” At that, Kevin lunged forward, trying desperately to hide his video. But with a finger in his book, and five more on his cock, his hands stumbled and the phone went flying across the room.
“Shit!” Kevin let loose a string of expletives. In all his panic, he didn’t even see where the phone landed. How was he going to find it under all this mess? It was the first time in three years of college that he wished he bothered to clean his room.
Kevin could hear the muffled sounds of his groupmates talking among themselves. Were they under this stained tee? By these cans of hard seltzer? He squatted down, moving some of his dirty laundry to a different pile and surveying the mess. That’s when a new voice joined the call.
“Sorry class, I made an error and had to end the breakout rooms—oh my… Kevin!”
Some of the dirty clothes he’d moved must’ve been blocking his phone’s speakers because now Kevin could hear the audio crystal clear. His professor’s voice rang out from directly underneath him. It felt like time slowed to a crawl as Kevin looked down between his legs, already knowing but refusing to believe what he would see.
Kevin’s phone sat on the floor of his dorm room, directly underneath him, with the front-facing camera pointed directly at his taint. Every bit of him, tip to tail, was on display, his squat making sure the whole class knew he shaved his ass clean, right down to the hole. And an hour of edging meant he was still achingly hard.
A bead of precum dropping off the tip of his twitching dick right onto his phone brought Kevin back to reality. In an instant, his phone was back in his hands, the camera only capturing him from the shoulders up. He was apologizing, rambling, desperately searching for a good explanation or excuse, all while his professor was ranting about his impropriety. Eventually he couldn’t take it any more. One press of the power button was all it took to shut the professor up.
Kevin sat in the darkness of his dorm room breathing heavily. Did that really just happen? Did his whole class just see his hard, leaking dick and his spread asshole? His pulse quickened as he thought of the video that his professor took of every lecture. Surely he wouldn’t post this one! But what about the other students—had they taken photos, recorded videos?
And why was he still. So. Horny?
The more Kevin thought about what had happened the harder he got. The chair was getting sticky with just how much pre he was leaking, and when Kevin wrapped his hand back around his shaft he knew he was just a few pumps away from cumming. But something stopped him. As he looked down at his phone, Kevin realized he was only a few minutes out from his second class of the day, and a perverse idea occurred to him.
I couldn’t. I mean, twice in one day? People would notice! And I don’t know how I’ll get the phone to land face up again…
His dick jumped as he made his decision. Kevin settled back into his chair and angled his phone just right. He kicked his clothes back into the center of the room, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind begging him to put something, anything on. A few controlled tugs kept his balls right on the edge of bursting.
