Just remember to place gauze over your penis and not to tape directly to it or you'll really be sorry. My urologist suggested I use surgical tape to secure my package running sideways across my front and I have found that to be helpful, except I have to shave to make it work, which can be a bother (and even then I get the old 'pickle in the pocket' joke on occasion). True, the jock strap and knee-length baggy shorts help but the bulge is still noticeable. In the past year I have been subject to two strip searches at airports because they thought I was concealing something. At one time, after an embarrasing moment when I got a spontaneous erection on the climbing rope in gym class at age 16 and had a good 5 inches exposed to the world out of the top of my gym shorts, I even begged my parents for reduction surgery. The stares, the comments, the turning heads are a constant part of my life. Being 'hung like a horse' is no blessing, believe me. “Beaches, honey? Who told you we got beaches here? You want beaches, you gotta turn around and go back to Miami, baby.As my friend attested in another response to your inquiry, I too am endowed with a sizeable load of 8 inches flaccid and twelve erect. “What’s the best beach here for, you know, mixing with the boys?” He’s pretty hot and he’s swishing enough to fan the sultry air with his hips. I find my guesthouse (already reserved) with a minimum of fuss. I pull onto Key West, finally, and breathe in hyacinth-scented air. The roadster has been freshly detailed and polished by a couple of hot Cubano lads in Miami - whom I grossly over tipped. I’m now dressed in fashionable shorts and a nice shirt. The next day finds me tooling down Highway One and across the Keys. I must suffer in order to attain paradise. Can’t I at least have some fantasy about a strapping Latino baseball wannabe and his randy coach?īut Key West awaits! White sand beaches brimming with bronzed beauties. To that end, for all of you bored to tears by SIs issue, I present what has become the Outsports annual alternative - guys, guys and nothing but guys. I tip the maid and she leaves, seemingly a bit confused. I frantically page through the offerings. Yeah, a maid in fishnet stockings and a bodice that leaves nothing to the imagination. Valentine red.Ī maid leads me to my room. The lobby is opulant, which doesn’t match the cheap price I saw posted on the sign. Whatever reason.įinally, I promise myself I will stop at the very next one I see. I pass several motels that don’t look quite right. I tear myself away as the sun begins to swell on the horizon.
He frolics and fishes with ease and abandon. The otter knows that no gator stands a chance. I watch the otter laugh as an alligator lurks, wishing for an easy dinner. This picture is one of the most perfect moments of my life. I’m not even going to attempt photos here. Did you know that alligators are beautiful like that? Basking on those banks are primordial monsters, scales gleaming in the sun, all colors of the rainbow. Now I can see into the water, into a little pool with muddy banks. The sun is hot and the air smells thick with life. Screaming and squawking, and God only knows what else.
I trod along planked boardwalk for about a mile into the depths of the glades. I stop a little rest area and notice a sign. What a desolate stretch of road! Beautiful but utterly deserted, just an asphalt ribbon with drainage ditch and swamp on both sides. I turn left to wend my way through the Everglades toward Miami. Where are the damn alligators, manatees, and sex motels? And yes, I can hear your impatient questions. It takes me all day to drive down as far as Naples. On to Florida! Now I’ve got the top down and Coppertone coats my nose.
Nothing to see except boring red clay and then horrible traffic in Atlanta. Some crusty Motel 6, most likely, with soggy bags of boiled peanuts for sale in the lobby.Īlabama and Georgia kick my ass. Was the mama bear really charging, you ask? I don’t know, the tale grows in the telling. I levitate, nay, teleport back to my highly polished little ride, and then I do some roaring of my own, right down the mountain and on into Alabama. I have to have a picture! Seriously, when do you EVER see a bear cub this cute in the wild? But as I raise my camera, what do I hear but a crashing and a roaring from deep within the forest.