In My New Tighty Whities

I'm mostly a boxers man, but a couple of days ago my mate Wayne gifted me a pair of wonderful pair of "tighty whities" made by Mind Carlberg. I have hardly spent an hour inworld without wearing them since.

To be quiet honest, I always thought they were called "tidy whities" and they kinda reminded me of all the Falcon Studios gay films from the eighties with blond and sunburned men - nicely manscaped, with clean-shaved balls and asses and clean feet - interacting in the most exhilarating and wonderful ways.

The Urban Dictionary has this to say about tighty whities:

"A synonym for briefs . They are underwear worn for there support purposes, antonym of boxers. The pros of tighty whities are support in gym class and hiding an erection. The disadvantages are that if you are pantsed then your penis will appear smaller, and that they might strangle your penis.

Because of incidents in which prison inmates trousers started to fall down, many teenagers believe baggy pants are cool. Because of that, it became the cool thing to wear boxers instead of old fashioned tighty whities.

Advice if you're going to High School and male. In order to make your life alot easier, wear boxer shorts."

Bock & Urinals

I had no problems with urinals whatsoever until the summer when I was 22 years old. Up until then I thought of it as extremely convenient fixture. You go in, take a broad manly stance in front of the fixture (so as not to cramp the flow), pull down your zipper, haul out your tackle and just let it flow.

However, the summer I was 22 I was out backpacking through Europe for a month. On the evening before the last day of the trip I was at "Gare du Nord" in Paris and was going to take the night train to Copenhagen.

While waiting to board the train, I felt an insistent need to relieve myself and knew I wouldn't be able to wait until I got on the train, so I went looking for a restroom.

I soon found a huge "Gentlemen's" in the cellar of the railway station. The first part of the room consisted of two lines of 15 urinals on the opposing walls. Almost all the slots were filled, except one almost at the end to the right, so I went there and started doing my business.

Just as I had started, I felt a nudge on my right shoulder from the man standing next to me. I looked at him, wondering what he wanted. He looked me in the eyes, then looked downwards. As I followed his gaze I saw that he was masturbating. Not only that, but all the other occupants were also erect and playing with themselves and looking towards me. Not only that, but as I looked over my shoulder I noticed that the row of men behind us were also jacking off and looking at me.

To this day I'm not sure why, but my external urethral sphincter - which supposedly controls the voluntary peeing - immediately cramped shut and my body started shaking as I felt more than 25 men looking lustfully at me.

Although I was gay, by no means a virgin and in my best shape ever, 5'8" (172 cm), 132 lb (60 kg) and fit, my mind started screaming "Danger! Danger! Get your ass out of this place - NOW!"

Maybe I thought I was going to get gang-raped or otherwise molested, but whatever I rushed out of there, without even tucking in before. I did that outside the room, luckily before anyone had seen anything.

Anyway, since that evening I am not able to use the bloody contraptions without getting feelings of panic and my sphincter shutting off, except when I am very, very drunk or very certain that I will be alone.