Posted by Ryan on September 6, 2005, 9:18 am, in reply to "MY STRUGGLES AT HOME AND ABROAD" So there I was struggling. Will power now gone, I started walking around the neighborhood... searching.... Houses with walls that came up to the sidewalks, some bare walls beside the modest residences, a few empty lots here and there open to the streets with bits of garbage and trash haphazardly strewn around in them.... I was passing a person here, a person there, a man here, a man walking with his wife there, children playing; so far no young ladies at an age that would be appealing. I walked around this block, then that block, and then when I came around a corner, there I saw sitting on some steps in front of a house, two girls who appeared to be about in their late teens or early twenties. Right beside them was a blank wall beside the dirt road, with weeds growing at the bottom of it—perfect place for a man to urinate, as things went in this land. There they were, sitting there casually engaged in conversation. I walked by them. The girl facing me had kind of a half-smile out the side of her mouth as she semiconsciously allowed me into her field of vision while she was apparently thinking about what the two of them were talking about. I kept walking nervously. I didn’t do it. Then I walked around the block again. I came around them again, wondering if they were noticing that I had passed by twice. I was getting an erection as I was thinking about how, in this environment, it was just so free and easy to be able to do such a thing. I looked both ways down the street. There was no one else anywhere. ‘Is it all right?’ I was thinking. ‘They don’t even care?’ I turned toward the wall in front of them. The girl facing me was still looking in my direction with that same look on her face of being only partly conscious of the people passing by in the street, while still apparently enrapt in their conversation. The other girl had her back to me. Turned at kind of a 45-degree angle in front of the wall, in full view of her, in one quick movement I reached my hand in front and unzipped my pants. Oh, it felt good, touching my fingers against that humungous erection. I watched her face. She was still looking my way with that casual half-smile, still apparently deep in thought about whatever they were talking about. Was she even noticing what I was making it look like I was about to do? But how could she not be noticing if she was looking right at me? Then my fingers kind of took over and broke away from the instructions my mind was giving them. Before I realized it, they were inside my zipper fumbling around with my underpants and had pulled open the crotch-panel, slipping it around the tip of my rock-hard upright penis, and were pushing it down to the base of it. ‘My god!’ I suddenly screamed at myself in my mind. ‘What are you DOING!?’ It wasn’t out in her view, because I still had my hand in front of it, but that was the only thing obstructing it from her line of vision. ‘My god, STOP it—now!’ I screamed at myself inside my mind. ‘Put it back in—NOW!’ I watched the look on her face. Still no change in facial expression, even though it was obvious that I was now only a micrometer from having that big, long, hard thing sticking straight out and displaying a full-fledged male-anatomical spectacle right in front of her eyes. I struggled, then suddenly pulled together every ounce of will power I had. ‘Okay, zip up and put it away now!’ I commanded myself. Keeping my hand over it the whole time, I pushed the swollen gray-mushroomed tip back through the crotch panel. It was so HARD! I shoved it inside, then, struggling, pulled up my zipper. She didn’t turn her gaze away. She just kept looking in my direction with that same look on her face—one side of her mouth turned up in a half-smile—while the two of them kept talking. ‘Whew! Did it. Got myself back under control.’ I kept walking on. Man, that was a close one. And not even a flinch in her facial expression. No opening of the mouth, no turning her head away, nothing. Nothing at all. Apparently the fact of what I was about to do wasn’t considered any big deal (well, it was to me). My! It was unbelievable. Shall we call that East meeting West? South meeting North? Third World meeting First World? I already knew it was possible for some cultures in this world to be very different from ours—but not THAT different! What if you were a person who went through all your days suffering deprivation of all the basic needs of life? And what if there were some country you could just go to, some land of plenty, where you could just reach out your hand and pick it off the trees everywhere you looked and always have as much of it as you ever wanted? That’s about the idea many people in the Third World have of the United States. And that’s what many exhibitionists in the United States just might consider their Third World countries to be, if they ever heard about them, if they ever even IMAGINED that such a situation COULD exist anywhere on this planet... where you can just... pull it out—and it’s perfectly all right! You just have to fake like you have to pee, though, and that that’s your reason for taking the thing out. If the women there thought you were taking it out just for the purpose of exposing it to them, then it would be upsetting and frightening to them the same way it is to American women. But as long as it looks like the only reason is that you have to pee, then fine—right in front of them, if you want—apparently. But how TERRIBLE—for me and my situation when I was there. I was honestly and sincerely trying to kick the thing. I had honestly thought that going to this country was going to have a positive effect on me, as far as the unhealthful sexual inclination I had. Oh, brother. Link: Post a response
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(Originally posted November 7, 2003, 6:56 pm)
