On Being Shown

I knelt on the pad at her direction and assumed the desired position. I knew from experience that my wait might be minutes or hours in duration – it didn’t matter. What did matter is that she had selected me to provide whatever intimate pleasure she ultimately desired. And it was that thought that kept my penis completely stiffened and on display for her periodic perusal.

Her attention, while periodic in nature, was on my erection. She demanded a certain level of elevation and was sharp in her inspection methods. If she sensed a drop, she was quick to require me to provide manual stimulation under her supervision. Her goal, it seemed, was a throbbing intensity that left me pushing against the air and my heart thumping in my chest and beating in my penis.Her preparations, this time, were different. She was clearing the living room and doing something in the kitchen. The mystery was soon solved when the doorbell rang and I heard the sounds of female voices. I became very aware my exposed nakedness … and fought the urge to cover up or run to other room. I knew either of those options would disappoint and could end the relationship which always provided me explosive release after a prolonged build up.

The voices grew louder and were headed in my direction. I could make out the words now. “Have a seat and I’ll fix us a drink”, I heard her say. She led two females into the room and gestured to a couch directly across from where I knelt. My face flushed and I fought the urge to flee. I was embarrassed by both my position of subservience and my raging erection. While she acted as though this were a common occurrence and carried on her end of the conversation from the kitchen, her guests were unabashedly staring at my appearance. My erection, rather than flagging as I expected, seemed to grow in proportion to my embarrassment and discomfort.


I was not introduced and she treated me as a customary object found in any living room. I was not mentioned by her guests either, but because of their physical positioning on the couch, had an easy view of me of which they took frequent advantage. I tried not to make eye contact but appear as though this were a natural position for any man to be in. The power of denial is amazing.

She was sitting in an overstuffed chair next to me so I couldn’t see her. But even so, I could hear the smirk on her face as she talked about everything but me. The conversation turned to boyfriends and then to men in general. One of the guests, in a hushed tone, starting talking about the particular endowment of one of the men she had just started seeing. And at this she finally acknowledged my presence. “JerBear, please take their glasses and refill their drinks”. I had just started becoming comfortable in front of them – and maybe she sensed this – but I had to stand up and walk in front of them with my erection bobbing up and down. Both women looked long and hard at my penis and seemed to be measuring it against the story they had just heard.

Their conversation was on the same topic when I returned from the kitchen. After I set the glasses down in front of the guests, she asked me to stand still in front of them. She then went through a step-by-step comparison. “I just want to make sure I’m picturing this right” she said. “Is he longer than JerBear is right now?” Her guest replied that she wasn’t sure, so she leaned forward to get a closer look. “Oh, yes, she said – but he doesn’t have that curve at the base, so that could affect the length”. My embarrassment was at a peak I didn’t think I could sustain, but she wanted to push it further. “Well, we can’t have that” she said “JerBear, stroke yourself for us, we can’t settle for substandard length at our party!” I gave her a startled look to see if she was serious. And one look told me she was … very serious.

I don’t know which had the deeper color, my face or my penis. But I was standing in front of three beautiful young women, stroking my penis with long, slow hand movements and my dick was responding as expected; pushing against my hand and starting to glisten with moisture.



The females maintained their gaze on my action, but continued their conversation about different men and the size of their dicks. One of the guests mentioned that a mutual friend of theirs had been bragging about a new male friend whose girth was unbelievable. This was taken by her as a challenge. “Well, we have to check that out!” she said. “Let’s go talk to her now. We’ll use JerBear for comparison”. The females stood up and I thought for a moment that I was finally to be freed from my embarrassing entanglement. “JerBear” she said, “let’s go”. I reached for my clothes and she stopped me short “no, we’re going just the way we are”. And they all headed to the door, “now!” she said and held the door open for me.

The sun streamed through the open door and I slowly made my way to it.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Molly's Therapy Couch

Plan B

The Performance Pouch Story