Homegrown BJ JO Stories

 My Grandad took me to the Hot Springs, for High School graduation gift....last year's trip we were camping, and taking turns changing in the tent. No surprises, ...a lot of old men are modest. So, I was surprised when, this time, we went to the bathhouse, and there were no suits packed.  We stopped by the men's room on the way into locker room. He leaned back to "see" what I was saying, what with all the echoing. (Hell, I'm tall enough this year, to see over the divider, as this pics shows.) He started untugging and removing his shirt, as he stood there pissing.  His dick was an Aardvark type, and not long, ...though his balls were! He left his fly wide open, still hanging it out, as we passed over to the bench. "Grandpap, Dad and Uncle Raymond, brought me, and all 3 cousins here, back in the 1950s." Granddad began. "You should have seen us running around in here naked as the Dickens, back then! Sorry your Mom's alone in the Ladie's wing, a

I first saw him get out of his F-150.               (Yes, this man is uncut.)  I was eating in a Prayer E Kitchen, and that older Mom-type woman, was sitting with a maturely-young man's man. Cowboy hat, plaid shirt, slender but, blocky, black hair, and blue eyes... Let's face it, despite the built in stubble, he was a most handsome stud. He got up a time or two, and went back to the "Prayer E buffet." His slim-fitting jeans, fit nicely around his Wranglers-sized ass, and his front meat, couldn't decide which leg to bulge down, each time he sat. But, this last trip, I saw a wet spot, not there before.  I started getting up from my table way far from the men's room, and moseyed, towards the restroom door. He sat his new plate by his wife, and, lucky me, without sitting turned and ducked in the men's room, just a hair ahead of me. I took a deep breath, pushed opened the door (no lock,) and right there, mere inches from the door's handle, and therefore my

 Waking up naked in a ditch, can be the start of a bad day. This 2 lane old road looks familiar, but not quite. It looks like a lot of roads around here. Is it an old highway, or a retired highway? And on cue, a white pickup popped over the far hill, behind me. I'll  cover my dick with my hand an stuck out my thumb. If it's a woman, she's  not gonna stop anyway, and I got probably 15 good minutes, before a deputy, or Highway Patrol comes by, once she reports me. The pick up nearly screeched to a halt, flinging open the passenger door. "Why, you're plum nekkid, son!" The older man, could've been my dad. (...any day he wants, I thought.) "Git in, ya nekkid cuss." I climbed in and asked, "Where are we?" "Just North of Ravia. Where are your clothes?" "I guess my tent is still at the campground down near Turner Falls." "That's about 25 miles! You got this far plumb nekkid?" "We was drinking..." I b

 My bud was in a hospital, and I dropped in to visit. The private room was warm with the afternoon sun.  He had the covers kicked down to just about his knees, and a hospital gown on. He asked me to drag the chair around, so he wouldn't have to twist his neck... I guess a little of the back story is due. Rabbe, [yeah, but, he pronounced it as Robby,] was a co-worker two jobs back, and though he was handsome... There just wasn't any reason for us to be nude in each other's presence. About the closest we got, was when a customer to our carburetors' shop, told a [Rodney Carrington?] Joke. "Hell, I don't mind the cold, but, trying to stretch a 3" dick past 6" of insulated clothing sucks!" [I heard him repeat the joke, so I figured he had a cozy tinkler, too.] Well, I'm sitting right by his bed, near his knees, and he is sitting half-up. When he bent his right knee to the side, the gown drew taught, and I got a quick partial glimpse of some warm,

 Fuck! ...a strange town. Know nobody. And the say, "explore the city, you will love it!" I was sitting in my motel room, and stepped out to the viewing balcony, down the hall. Apparently,  though built for "observation," of the new tower, back in the 1960s the Motel owners decided to make it a Smoking Balcony instead. I stepped out into the twilight view. Enjoyed it, and casually scratched my nuts, in the balmy Summer night air. After a few minutes, a voice behind me asked, "got a light?" (I have my father's WWII zipper-light, that I keep filled and operational, in his memory.) "Yeah, sure." The lean guy's mild thrombosis veins stood out, in the stark light of the windproof flame, as well as the thick tree-like neck. "Nice-looking tower. How old's  you sister?" (My dad told me it was a code for windproof lighter conversation. ) "Born in 1942." He did a trick, or two, and handed it back. "Somethin' special

 When we were kicking some shit around, my neighbor over on a nearby dairy farm mentioned being thankful for all the help my son had been all summer. My son's first job off my farm, as he is slow, you want to be protective, and you want to offer every opportunity. So when he turned 18, I let him work that Summer at Randy's small dairy farm, only a few miles away. Randy's own teen sons, also, mouthed they appreciated the help, even if giving him a required newbie ribbing. Well, Tim and Dave, started pissing onto the tractor tire, and soon, the rest of us were adding to the ground's mineral content. I blushed as my son blurted, "I'm  glad I got the biggest one here!" (I have often attempted to  direct him from inappropriate timing...and to tell the truth,  he never would have said that with his mom present.) Before I could, respond, Dave escalated..."Mine's bigger than yours hard."  And with that it was Randy's turn to blush, though, I wasn