Exhibitionist visits Berlin

First Night

It was our first night out in Berlin, if you could call it that. Allen and I were both a bit shell shocked from the 14 hour flight. All the same, we were still heading out at 2 am with about four hours of sleep. We figured that either we get ourselves up and out of the hotel now or we’d end up waking up at 6 am with nothing to do. Our goal was to have some fun as well as reconnoiter a couple of the nearby bars. Adjusting to the time zone change was going to be a bitch

Mr. Silver and I had been planning this trip for months. I absolutely love exhibitionism! I love showing off my cock and balls to amorous gay men. I also enjoy bondage and some cock and ball torture. It wasn’t until I started day-dreaming about this trip that I realized that I am also excited by being put into unexpected predicaments with some risk. Not some crazy outlandish risk like trying to fuck at the Bundestag after dark. Nor somewhere that would be patently offensive to people you’d expect to be in such a place such as a shopping mall with women and children present. But certainly something more public than in a back room of a bar where it’s dark and expected. Also, I really want to be the only man with his cock and balls out and center of attention. I want other men to look at me and think simultaneously both “that’s hot” and “he’s doing that here.” Both erotic and tantalizingly forbidden.

Predicament? One of my favorite quotes is from the 1987 movie Personal Services. The lead character says, “When the balls are full, the brain is empty.” I want to be seduced into a situation that I wouldn’t otherwise agree to if I were clear-headed enjoying a cup of coffee in the morning. Confused by what I want? I haven’t figured it out either. 

We headed out. Sir in flannel shirt, jeans and a cap. I wore a leather cap, bar vest, semi-transparent black mesh shorts, boots and wrist restraints. At 2:00 a.m. we didn’t expect that there’d be any children on the streets nor any delicate ladies who might be offended. But just in case, we had a plan. If either of us saw someone that might be a problem, then we’d pull the other into a romantic hug and kiss. Then I’d reach around and pull a dark blue handkerchief out of Sir’s back pock. Unfold it and wrap it our my crotch inside the shorts. It might appear bizarre but at least not lewd.

Just around the corner from the hotel is the Prinzknecht tavern. It’s a classy pub with large windows. I was heading to a sleazy bar just down the street, but halfway past the pub, Sir decided that he wanted to go into this tavern. I was nervous about the semi-transparent shorts that I was wearing. But my cock betrayed me and was becoming hard.

I took a deep breathe and reminded myself that this is Berlin and its 2:00 am as we walked into the pub. I told myself, “Head up, square up those shoulder.” If I’m going to be a slut, I’m going to do it proudly, no slouching allowed. We walked up to the bar and Sir ordered us two beers. No one gave us a second look. Sir and I critiqued the flight over and bantered about the other men in the pub. Sir also was also openly grabbing my crotch, hugging me and otherwise being generally affectionate. It felt good. I welcomed the physical affection and returned it. As I looked around, I realized what Sir saw when he stopped in front of the bar. The only patrons were men decked out in leather. Full leather: caps, leather shirts, leather pants and boots. This was my image of the Leathermen of Berlin.

About halfway through our beers, Sir told me to go take a piss. Following his order would make me wander about the bar with my cock clearly visible through the shorts. Presumably the water closet was in the back of the bar. It was a small undertaking but still a challenge because my mind hadn’t yet fully switched to “slut mode”. I only passed by one man on the way to the WC. On the way back, I was in view of three guys but I don’t think they even looked my way.

When I joined Sir at the bar, he noticed that I had gone soft during my short excursion. He proceeded to stroke my cock through the shorts. It didn’t take long until I was hard again. He slipped his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down a bit. He flipped my cock upright and the head popped out of the the shorts. He rubbed his index finger across my meatus and brought it up to his lips to taste but there wasn’t any pre-cum yet. Sir was ready to leave and told me to lead the way. So with my erection pressing against the mesh of my shorts, I walked past the rest of the men in the bar and out the door.

We walked over to Tom’s Bar. Just inside the door I could see the bar a large video monitor showing a soccer game and a few table soccer games. As we walked further to the bar I could see the doorway that led to the dark room cellar. Just after ordering our beers Sir told me to take off my shorts. I handed them to Sir. When the bartender returned with our beers, Sir paid for the beers and then asked the guy to toss my shorts behind the bar. The bartender smiled, crumped up the shorts and made like a basket ball shot over the Dutch doors into the supply room.

We each took hold of our beers and had a drink. “Cover your cock and balls with your left hand, grab your beer and follow me.” It was an odd contradiction. I wanted to show off my cock but I was pretending to be modest and hiding it. Sir didn’t walk far, just to the other end of the bar across from the stairs to the cellar. “Keep covering you crotch,” he said, as he put his hand on my shoulder and pressed me back to the bar. It was an unusual mental self-image. I’m standing naked except for a cap and boots facing out into the room. My left hand holding my balls with my cock pressed my forearm and torso. With my right hand that was holding my beer, I took a sip. Sir stood at my side. He started to describe each of the men in the bar. His talk only made it more obvious to me that I was the only man naked.

He said to me “Wait here. Keep that cock covered,” as he casually strolled through the doorway to the cellar. Apparently, Sir wanted to explore the dark rooms. I wondered how long he’d be. As it turned out, it wasn’t long, just a few minutes. When he returned, he told me to put my hands behind my back. I sat the glass on the bar, released my cock from my left hand and put them behind my back. I felt Sir tug at the wrist restraints as he clipped them together with a carabiner clip.

He turned me back to facing him and he started to stroke my cock. His hand felt so good. I love the feel of another man’s hand on my cock. My hips thrusted forward for more. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of silicone lube. Soon my whole cock and balls were shimmering with lube. I was besides myself with pleasure.

“Wait here,” he said and Mr. Silver walked back to the other end of the bar near the entrance. He pulled out one of the bar stools, adjusted it and sat down. I’m practically panting wanting him to stroke my cock. He sat there for a few moments looking around and at me. He stretched out his hand and curled his finger at me beaconing me to come to him. I walked over. When I reached him, he grabbed my restraints and pulled me in between his leg with my back to him.

He reached around and started to leisurely stroke my cock. Soon the bartender was down at our end of the bar for another customer. After he served the guy his drink, Sir tried to start up a conversation with the bartender. “Hey, we just got into town this evening. How late are you open?” The bartender replied in somewhat broken English but clearly understandable. Sir continued to hold a conversation with the bartender as he stroked my cock. Sir was picking up the pace and rubbing his hand over the head. I was going to cum soon. I flexed and moaned but the two of them kept up their conversation. I let out a big groan when I started to cum. The conversation stopped and Sir focused on milking me and stroking me for some painfully sweet post-cum torture. I think the bartender walked away to serve another customer but I was so lost in the orgasm that I’m really not sure.

When I finally came down from the rush, Sir told me to walk to the end of the bar and ask the bartender for my shorts back. Sir pointed toward the end by the front door. “Retrieve it like a dog and carry them back with your mouth”. I walked to the other end of the bar as instructed. It was open so that the bartenders could walk out into the room and pick up empties. The bartender could get a full look at me, head to toe and everything in between, if he just looked. I waited for the bartender with my hands still restrained behind my back. I don’t know if he was ignoring me or if he was enjoying making me wait. When he finally came over, it took a couple of tries before the bartender understood what I was asking. He retrieved my shorts and he really seemed to enjoy stuffing them in my mouth. He certainly worked at it.

I walked back to Sir. He released my restrained and told me to put on my shorts. He had been a long day and he wanted to go back to the hotel to sleep. I was ready for some sleep too.