Mile High showing your bulge
- Thread starter mikebm4wm
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Fucking hot, very nice. I want on that flight.
teddybaerli1
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teddybaerli1
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teddybaerli1
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I've been a frequent business traveler for many years, often with a bulge like this. Lots of interesting adventures, phone numbers exchanged and hooks with flight attendants, passenger glances to extended stares, discrete bulge grabs, etc...
Often searched at security when my bulge shows up on the scan. Once the agent followed me into the men's room and stood several feet down from me at the urinal. 50ish white bearded bear with a smile. Tight uniform, I noticed. He admired my semi for a moment then unveiled his cock, with a massive PA. Another smile. I actually had to pee, and he zipped before me and whispered "follow me" as he passed by. He was waiting outside. I've got a raging boner by now. Happened to follow him for a bit but my flight had boarded and I couldn't miss it. Went to my gate, boarded, sat down in first class with my cock reaching for my knee. Big bulge in my suit pants. He stands in the aisle as if he's checking a manifest or something, getting an eye full. Finally one last smile, a wink, he leaves, and I'm on my way with precum oozing through my pant leg.
100% true.
teddybaerli1
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teddybaerli1
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Some of these posts don’t have either videos or pictures, but they do share experiences. I would like to share an experience that I had in flight on Southwest a couple of years ago. I wrote about this on Reddit a while back, and I’m sharing it here for you.
————
On a recent trip back from Orlando to Dallas, I made a connection to another aircraft in Atlanta. The connection was on time and everything seemed routine. I was able to board the connection aircraft before most of the other passengers and ended up in the exit row - the coveted seats for those of us who are tall. I was sitting in the window seat and a teenage kid was sitting in the aisle seat. The middle seat was open.
As the passengers continued to board and was quite full, up the aisle came a young couple who were talking with each other softly. She was not memorable, but he was tall and blonde with dark eyes and a fit body that his Nike compression shirt accentuated. As they passed my exit row, I glanced to see what was happening below the waist and was pleased to catch a glimpse of Nike golf pants. I quickly extrapolated the obvious data to conclude that this guy must be a golfer. They continued on up the aisle toward the rear of the aircraft; the middle seat in the exit row remained open.
As happens on many flights, eventually the seats get filled and those passengers who have rampaged toward the back of the aircraft have to return to the front. I turned to watch the impending melee as the flight attendant made the "no more seats available at the back, so sit wherever you find an open seat" announcement. Back up the aisle came a few passengers including the golfer guy. He and I made eye contact and I gestured at the empty seat beside me. He smiled and sat. I couldn't have been more pleased. At closer look, he appeared to be in his mid-20's and had just a bit of stubble. We made small talk while waiting for the plane to pull away from the gate, and his gentle southern accent charmed me. I asked him if he wanted me to trade seats with his wife so they could sit together, and he thanked me for the offer but said that she was just his girlfriend.
We settled in for the flight. I was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a t-shirt as one does when flying domestically in steerage. I'm a big boy, so I tend to manspread when I get comfortable. This means that my bare left knee would graze his right knee from time to time. He didn't seem to mind that, so, eventually, we ended up just letting our knees touch.
He was very attractive. I mean, if I were to have seen this guy on Grindr or a "rate me" site, I'd have messaged him just for the hell of it to see if he wanted to chat with me. And here I was,and older man sitting next to a fit and sexy guy who was happy to keep his knee firmly pressed against mine. I felt a tingle in my groin when I first saw him coming up the aisle, but now that we were in physical contact, I was fully hard and not trying to keep my bulge hidden from him. I adjusted myself a couple of times to make my fullness visible to him. Each time I did that, he looked. Soon, he was adjusting himself, as well.
I had a feeling that can only be equated to the lustful fog that I had with my very first same-sex experience. There was a tingling just below my sternum, a warm feeling all over my body, and a sensation in my crotch that made me feel as close to ejaculation as I could get without actually jizzing. I knew that I was leaking, but I didn't care.
I wanted to touch him with more than my knee, so I reached down ostensibly to scratch my knee but wanting to rub his knee on the sly. I scratched for a few seconds feeling the warmth of his leg on the backside of my hand. It was very satisfactory. What happened next was not expected: after I finished scratching, he reached down to do the same thing! He scratched his knee and actually felt my bare knee with the back of his hand. Electrifying! So, having felt another man's hand on on my body in even such a limited way, I desired more. I scratched again for a longer period of of time, luxuriating in the sensation and warmth. When I finished, he did the same and ended with a quick caress of my knee with his hand -- so quick that it was hardly a touch but still enough to keep the juices flowing.
He could clearly see my bulge when it it throbbed. He didn't even make a pretense of appearing to not look; he was fixated on it. And I was fixated on the shape and position of his bulge that was pointed in my direction and was a lovely college boy thickness and length. The way the light played off it in those pants made of shiny synthetic fibers spoke life into my soul. For those moments, each of us was enjoying the presence of the other. There was no telling how the situation would have been playing out differently if we were seated, say, in a doctor's office or in a darkened theater.
He took the inflight magazine and opened it to, I suppose, use it as a shield to protect our antics from the guy sitting in the aisle seat who had on headphones and seemed oblivious to us from the get-go. I put my right hand on the left armrest in an attempt to suss out whether he would be down with more physical contact than just our knees. When he took my hand and guided it down to his thigh, I knew that he was certainly interested. I felt of his thigh feeling that strong quadriceps while making eye contact with him, then I slowly slid my hand up to his hard cock and felt of it. He responded with a sigh. I'm telling you, I touched every square centimeter of him: his balls, the length of his dick, and the head. He was throbbing the entire time. I wondered if he was leaking just like I was.
I thought about his "girlfriend" in the back and wondered what sort of relationship they had. Was it similar to the one my wife and I had before I came out to her? Was he a young closeted gay man who, like me, found this same-sex encounter to be thrilling and stimulating - a once-in-a-lifetime inflight encounter that one only reads about but never truly experiences? Was he a straight man who, when realizing that the guy sitting next to him was hard and leaking with a precum spot on his shorts, started to delve into those gay wonders about which he had been curious since high school shower rooms?
I started to stroke him gently under the opened magazine. It was risky as hell, all of this touching that was going on, but I was going to continue as long as he was offering his cock to me. When I'm browsing the Internet and read "rock hard" as it pertains to dick, I will forever now think of how his solid rail felt felt in my hand. Ah, the strength of youth! Further, he was very much into the feeling of being stroked and exhibited a beautiful expression of both rest and bliss.
All too soon, we began our descent into Dallas. I didn't intend for him to cum in his pants, but, to be honest, I wouldn't have been disappointed if he had. I believe he was drawing close to orgasm when he suddenly leaned forward and whispered "Stop!" with a sense of urgency. From that point in the flight for the next 20 minutes, he remained in that position as shifted between looking out the window to looking at my expanded precum spot. I think he wanted to make his erection go down so that when he got ready to get off the plane, he'd be back to his normal state. I found that even more stimulating because based on what I could see, he still seemed very hard.
We touched down in Dallas at Love Field. By this time, he had resumed sitting in an upright position (the flight attendant had told him to sit up during final descent) but was still relatively hard. I whispered to him that I'd be happy to finish him off in a bathroom stall in the terminal. He replied that his girlfriend would be with him and it would be difficult. I suggested that I get off the plane first and wait at the bathroom nearest to the gate. If when he got off the plane with his girlfriend he commented aloud to her that he had to use the bathroom, I would follow him in and we'd complete the deed in a stall. If he passed by with his ladyfriend and didn't stop, then we wouldn't finish him off.
I got off the plane, shielding my wet spot with my backpack. I stood by the bathroom checking my phone trying to not be obvious but still wanting to be aware of my surroundings so that I wouldn't miss the opportunity. Soon, here they came, and he told her that he needed to stop in to the bathroom. SCORE! I followed not too closely and turned the corner to see a madhouse of a bathroom. There were guys already using the stalls, guys in line for the stalls, guys in line for urinals, guys everywhere. My boy stepped up to the farthest urinal and I was left wondering how we would finish him. He stayed at the urinal for a minute, then came back over to the sinks with a look of regret on his face. "Looks like we're not going to be able to do it," he murmured. I agreed and told him that it had been a pleasure meeting him. He left the bathroom and I followed at a distance watching him and his girlfriend as they moved toward baggage claim. His ass was tight, my brothers. I was having thoughts.
When I got back to my car which was parked at an offsite pay-to-park lot, the sun had set and darkness had set in. After I left the lot and began the drive home, I unzipped my shorts and jacked. Just like the first time when I masturbated and came (and we all remember our first time, no?), in moments I had shot my load.
This experience is now indelibly etched into the top five life moments for me. It's an experience that I didn't have to pay anything extra for yet one which gave me such a thrill for which I would easily have paid money. How much money? I have no idea how much surreptitious crotch rubs cost, so I cannot comment there. Yet, that hour-long connection has opened up a whole new world of desire and longing in my soul - desires and longings that must be fulfilled.
My journey continues.
————
On a recent trip back from Orlando to Dallas, I made a connection to another aircraft in Atlanta. The connection was on time and everything seemed routine. I was able to board the connection aircraft before most of the other passengers and ended up in the exit row - the coveted seats for those of us who are tall. I was sitting in the window seat and a teenage kid was sitting in the aisle seat. The middle seat was open.
As the passengers continued to board and was quite full, up the aisle came a young couple who were talking with each other softly. She was not memorable, but he was tall and blonde with dark eyes and a fit body that his Nike compression shirt accentuated. As they passed my exit row, I glanced to see what was happening below the waist and was pleased to catch a glimpse of Nike golf pants. I quickly extrapolated the obvious data to conclude that this guy must be a golfer. They continued on up the aisle toward the rear of the aircraft; the middle seat in the exit row remained open.
As happens on many flights, eventually the seats get filled and those passengers who have rampaged toward the back of the aircraft have to return to the front. I turned to watch the impending melee as the flight attendant made the "no more seats available at the back, so sit wherever you find an open seat" announcement. Back up the aisle came a few passengers including the golfer guy. He and I made eye contact and I gestured at the empty seat beside me. He smiled and sat. I couldn't have been more pleased. At closer look, he appeared to be in his mid-20's and had just a bit of stubble. We made small talk while waiting for the plane to pull away from the gate, and his gentle southern accent charmed me. I asked him if he wanted me to trade seats with his wife so they could sit together, and he thanked me for the offer but said that she was just his girlfriend.
We settled in for the flight. I was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a t-shirt as one does when flying domestically in steerage. I'm a big boy, so I tend to manspread when I get comfortable. This means that my bare left knee would graze his right knee from time to time. He didn't seem to mind that, so, eventually, we ended up just letting our knees touch.
He was very attractive. I mean, if I were to have seen this guy on Grindr or a "rate me" site, I'd have messaged him just for the hell of it to see if he wanted to chat with me. And here I was,and older man sitting next to a fit and sexy guy who was happy to keep his knee firmly pressed against mine. I felt a tingle in my groin when I first saw him coming up the aisle, but now that we were in physical contact, I was fully hard and not trying to keep my bulge hidden from him. I adjusted myself a couple of times to make my fullness visible to him. Each time I did that, he looked. Soon, he was adjusting himself, as well.
I had a feeling that can only be equated to the lustful fog that I had with my very first same-sex experience. There was a tingling just below my sternum, a warm feeling all over my body, and a sensation in my crotch that made me feel as close to ejaculation as I could get without actually jizzing. I knew that I was leaking, but I didn't care.
I wanted to touch him with more than my knee, so I reached down ostensibly to scratch my knee but wanting to rub his knee on the sly. I scratched for a few seconds feeling the warmth of his leg on the backside of my hand. It was very satisfactory. What happened next was not expected: after I finished scratching, he reached down to do the same thing! He scratched his knee and actually felt my bare knee with the back of his hand. Electrifying! So, having felt another man's hand on on my body in even such a limited way, I desired more. I scratched again for a longer period of of time, luxuriating in the sensation and warmth. When I finished, he did the same and ended with a quick caress of my knee with his hand -- so quick that it was hardly a touch but still enough to keep the juices flowing.
He could clearly see my bulge when it it throbbed. He didn't even make a pretense of appearing to not look; he was fixated on it. And I was fixated on the shape and position of his bulge that was pointed in my direction and was a lovely college boy thickness and length. The way the light played off it in those pants made of shiny synthetic fibers spoke life into my soul. For those moments, each of us was enjoying the presence of the other. There was no telling how the situation would have been playing out differently if we were seated, say, in a doctor's office or in a darkened theater.
He took the inflight magazine and opened it to, I suppose, use it as a shield to protect our antics from the guy sitting in the aisle seat who had on headphones and seemed oblivious to us from the get-go. I put my right hand on the left armrest in an attempt to suss out whether he would be down with more physical contact than just our knees. When he took my hand and guided it down to his thigh, I knew that he was certainly interested. I felt of his thigh feeling that strong quadriceps while making eye contact with him, then I slowly slid my hand up to his hard cock and felt of it. He responded with a sigh. I'm telling you, I touched every square centimeter of him: his balls, the length of his dick, and the head. He was throbbing the entire time. I wondered if he was leaking just like I was.
I thought about his "girlfriend" in the back and wondered what sort of relationship they had. Was it similar to the one my wife and I had before I came out to her? Was he a young closeted gay man who, like me, found this same-sex encounter to be thrilling and stimulating - a once-in-a-lifetime inflight encounter that one only reads about but never truly experiences? Was he a straight man who, when realizing that the guy sitting next to him was hard and leaking with a precum spot on his shorts, started to delve into those gay wonders about which he had been curious since high school shower rooms?
I started to stroke him gently under the opened magazine. It was risky as hell, all of this touching that was going on, but I was going to continue as long as he was offering his cock to me. When I'm browsing the Internet and read "rock hard" as it pertains to dick, I will forever now think of how his solid rail felt felt in my hand. Ah, the strength of youth! Further, he was very much into the feeling of being stroked and exhibited a beautiful expression of both rest and bliss.
All too soon, we began our descent into Dallas. I didn't intend for him to cum in his pants, but, to be honest, I wouldn't have been disappointed if he had. I believe he was drawing close to orgasm when he suddenly leaned forward and whispered "Stop!" with a sense of urgency. From that point in the flight for the next 20 minutes, he remained in that position as shifted between looking out the window to looking at my expanded precum spot. I think he wanted to make his erection go down so that when he got ready to get off the plane, he'd be back to his normal state. I found that even more stimulating because based on what I could see, he still seemed very hard.
We touched down in Dallas at Love Field. By this time, he had resumed sitting in an upright position (the flight attendant had told him to sit up during final descent) but was still relatively hard. I whispered to him that I'd be happy to finish him off in a bathroom stall in the terminal. He replied that his girlfriend would be with him and it would be difficult. I suggested that I get off the plane first and wait at the bathroom nearest to the gate. If when he got off the plane with his girlfriend he commented aloud to her that he had to use the bathroom, I would follow him in and we'd complete the deed in a stall. If he passed by with his ladyfriend and didn't stop, then we wouldn't finish him off.
I got off the plane, shielding my wet spot with my backpack. I stood by the bathroom checking my phone trying to not be obvious but still wanting to be aware of my surroundings so that I wouldn't miss the opportunity. Soon, here they came, and he told her that he needed to stop in to the bathroom. SCORE! I followed not too closely and turned the corner to see a madhouse of a bathroom. There were guys already using the stalls, guys in line for the stalls, guys in line for urinals, guys everywhere. My boy stepped up to the farthest urinal and I was left wondering how we would finish him. He stayed at the urinal for a minute, then came back over to the sinks with a look of regret on his face. "Looks like we're not going to be able to do it," he murmured. I agreed and told him that it had been a pleasure meeting him. He left the bathroom and I followed at a distance watching him and his girlfriend as they moved toward baggage claim. His ass was tight, my brothers. I was having thoughts.
When I got back to my car which was parked at an offsite pay-to-park lot, the sun had set and darkness had set in. After I left the lot and began the drive home, I unzipped my shorts and jacked. Just like the first time when I masturbated and came (and we all remember our first time, no?), in moments I had shot my load.
This experience is now indelibly etched into the top five life moments for me. It's an experience that I didn't have to pay anything extra for yet one which gave me such a thrill for which I would easily have paid money. How much money? I have no idea how much surreptitious crotch rubs cost, so I cannot comment there. Yet, that hour-long connection has opened up a whole new world of desire and longing in my soul - desires and longings that must be fulfilled.
My journey continues.
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teddybaerli1
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