My dick’s been waking me up at weird hours. 3 or 4 a.m. and I’m up like a flash, a surge of horny energy thrumming through my body.
My brain wants to engage with a guy someone, somewhere, but most mornings, it’s just me.
Some nights, I slip on shoes and go for a walk in the dark, just me and my pajama shorts, wandering around our neighborhood.
The shoes remind me of my size, my thickness, Size 12 triple E wide, my thick hands and fingers, the thickness of my body everywhere.
Me, wanting to be seen, wanting to be on display, a newfound pride and comfort in my own body just taking me over at weird hours, like I’m some kind of fucking werewolf.
I’ve gotten so beefy and thick and for maybe the first time ever, my own body is a huge fucking turn on for me. My chest is so thick and meaty and it blows my mind how thick and swollen it feels. It’s a mix of muscle and beef - way more beef - but I’m turned on by every inch and pound of it.
When I walk down that dark street, my thick torso is on display.
I’ve noticed the difference in me, though few others have. Sometimes I wish one of my neighbors - one specific neighbor - would see me, see my meaty torso and invite me in, so his eyes and hands can explore me, touch me.
I fantasize about walking around in a jock, a small Speedo style swimsuit, every inch of me oiled up. Walking around my neighborhood, maybe, or maybe walking around a bar, some resort, some event where dozens, hundreds of guys are gathered.
After that dark walk, I end up back in my bed, my hands all over my own body, my meaty chest filling up my own hands.
Big thick fuck. Big meaty thick fuck.
Even in clothes, I feel like showing off, being seen. With this new vibe, I ditched a whole bunch of baggy, shapeless clothes, the kind I wore to the office for years. All my shirts are much more sleek now, more form fitting. Showing off the beef.
I wore a tight polo shirt to a restaurant not long ago, and after a few guys looked at me and smiled, my nipples visible through the material, I thought I’d have to go to the men’s room to stroke off.
Whatever has me up in the morning must have changed my body chemistry in other ways, too. My nipples were never sensitive, but now they often have a direct line to my cock.
I mean, I had a fucking wet dream a few weeks ago. Dreaming about being on display. Sets of eyes watching me as hands explored me, as fingers opened me up, stroked me, grabbed a handful of me.
Thick hot fuck.
My new tattoo is just one more thing that wants to be seen, touched, noticed. So much fucking beef.
I reach inside my pajama shorts, reach for my dick. It’s no porn dick, short and thick, not unlike its owner. My thick hands and thick fingers reach for my shaft with one hand, while my other hand gently pinches my nipple, grabs a handful of my meaty rack.
Wishing I was on display somewhere, being seen, some buddy, some horny dad getting an eyeful and a handful while I get a mouthful of his dick and a chinful of bouncing balls. Wishing some guy was slapping his dick on my beef somewhere.
Wishing some guy was taking me however he wanted me, me being a good trophy fuck, taking him like a champ.
My frustration and horniness and pent up edging energy just keeps ratcheting higher and higher and higher.
I grab harder, rub harder, all over my chest and belly.
Fucking big thick fuck. So fucking thick.
As little filaments of sunlight start trickling through the window, I grab a handful of my meaty rack one last time before my shaft explodes, making a big sticky mess all over my belly.
Fuck, I needed that.
Some of my fantasies are, well, just fantasies - it’s probably the definition of a bad idea to fuck a neighbor - but someday, my oiled up chest and belly will be in a room, an open space where a lot of eyes and a lot of hands are all over them.
I’m still hard, and I scoop up a bit of my sticky load, rubbing it on my dick. Might be time for round two before the sun’s completely in the sky…..
