This Is Horniness

This is horniness.

At the gym, a tall, dark and handsome drink of water is doing bench presses, and every time he pushes up, his dark, hairy pits are on display – over and over and over again.  He’s in shorts, and his legs are hairy too.  You wonder about his bush, and quickly grab hold of yourself before someone catches you gawking.

This is horniness.

You’re at the leather bar, drunk, and pissing into a urinal.  Even though there are lots of urinals, another guy pulls up at the urinal right next to yours and whips it out.  You are two men displaying your manhood and checking out the equipment.  You look up at him and smile, because you are both horny pigs, you “get it”, and you respect it.

This is horniness.

You started a night of edging by stripping and dancing in front of your mirror – just mildly drunk.  By the fifth hour of watching porn, you’re wasted and hunched over the computer, a sad sack of a man beating it like it owes you money.  You edge it really close and then stop.   You think you are amazing and all powerful, even though you are a hot mess.

This is horniness.

You walk by a bathhouse on your way to meet a buddy at a coffeeshop.  The smell of towels being laundered drives you crazy and you know that talking about anything other than sex is going to bore the hell out of you.  Luckily your friend is also a slut. 

This is horniness.

You’ve met a Master, who starts off by only letting you get your face close to his dick and looking at it.  When he thinks you deserve it, you get to kiss it.  The lights are low, and the punk rock music he loves plays.  You start to quiver.  It’s a half hour before he lets you take his dick in your mouth.  When he does, you have a strange sort of body orgasm and beg for more.  After another half hour, he feeds you his cum because you are deserving and he is generous.

This is horniness.

You are chatting online with a guy you once hooked up with years ago.  You are talking about yet another guy that you’ve both slept with separately.  He tells you that he watched that guy get gangbanged bare in the back of a pick-up truck.  Half your brain asks why he took the risk of unsafe sex.  The other part of your brain is jealous.

This is horniness.

You meet a guy online who wants to come over at 4 in the morning.  You know he could be a killer, could try to rob you blind.  But you will risk it to be naked with a man.  So you hide your wallet and wait for him, half hoping he doesn’t show up.

This is horniness.

Nervous as hell, on a trip to Amsterdam, you enter a popular bar with a backroom.  After a couple drinks, you take off your tank top, hook it into your belt, and head to the backroom and proceed to blow a crowd of four men facing you.  Nearly simultaneously, they blow on your chest, each turned on by the sight of the others cumming.  You all say thanks, smile, and you put the tank top back on over the fresh cum and sally on down back to the bar and order up a whisky.  For these few minutes, you are the cock of the block.

This is horniness.

You are dancing in a sea of shirtless sweaty men, lights flashing and music pulsing.  You are on another planet, shirtless yourself, and you instinctively grab hold of your crotch and fall in love with every man on the dance floor.  Yet you wonder if you’ll be going home alone.  You remind yourself to just enjoy the moment, to enjoy the horniness.  You would like to make love to everyone in the club, but doubt that would satiate you.  What would?