It doesn't happen often, but it's great when it does. Years ago at the old St. George swimming pool in Brooklyn, there was a guy in his thirties who seemed to have a thing about teenagers. He would make friends with them and play around with them in the water, and give them rides on his shoulders. This guy really got off on having some kid ride him. You'd see him go down underwater with his hands on some lucky kid's hips, and duck his head between the kid's bare thighs, fit his neck up into the waiting crotch, and stand up with a young shoulder-jockey astride the back of his neck. He knew how to pick them, too - usually good-looking boys or girls who would instinctively hook their feet behind his back without any prompting, and center their weight on their crotch, riding tall and straight astride him.
Naturally, I enjoyed watching all this, but as I was in my twenties at the time he never paid the slightest attention to me. Anyhow, one day he had latched on to a slim, well-built kid who really looked sexy riding him in brief black stretch-nylon trunks like my own. He had his hands on the boy's thighs as he jumped around in the water, and I noticed that he was changing the angle of his neck in his rider's crotch and rotating his head a little as if he were trying to feel the boy's cock and stimulate it a bit.
Well, *I* was certainly stimulated. In fact I was hard as hell and so absorbed in what I was seeing that I was taken by surprised when a tall, muscular black guy suddenly appeared right in front of me, swimming just under the surface in brief blue trunks that showed off his slim hips and hard buns. I remember noticing them as he brushed past me, and thinking that this good-looking hunk was about to collide with me because he had his eyes closed underwater. But as he passed me, he hand reached out to grab my hardon, and he stroked it quite deliberately as he swam by, still underwater. As I looked over my shoulder in amazement, here was this big stud standing up in the shallow water about ten feet behind me with a big grin on his face.
I decided to take a chance. As I said, sometimes it DOES happen. I grinned back, and stood with my legs apart, still with my back to him, and hoped for the best.
Sure enough, down he went, underwater again and heading right towards me. In a few seconds I felt his hair brush the insides of my thighs, and the incomparably delicious feeling of his muscular neck pressing up into my hot crotch as he gripped my thighs with his hands and stood up with me astride him. I locked my legs around his sides and hooked my feet behind his back as he began moving around beneath me.
I guess I rode him for about five or ten minutes. I was hard already, and I kept my hands on his head most of the time as I generally do when I ride a guy's shoulders in public, otherwise my hardon is visible an inch or so over the top of my mount's head. His Afro hid my hard cock effectively, however, and I could feel it against my cock through the thin cloth of my brief swimsuit as I rode him, expecially because he kept rotating his head back against my shaft, which got even harder as I began to match his own movements, my hips moving as I twisted and humped astride him. The other guy paid no attention to us at all, but continued cavorting around with his own bareback jockey still riding his neck, looking even sexier from my new perspective straddling my own muscular mount. But I had little attention to spare, because I was beginning to spasm astride my mount's neck, feeling the muscles rippling between my naked thighs and the thick shoulders supporting my weight. I found myself squeezing him rhythmically, thigh muscles contracting, hips pumping, his hair tickling the head of my cock, which was now poking free of my briefs.
And then I climaxed, somehow managing to retain enough presence of mind to catch the gusher in my hand to prevent a visible arc of jism over the top of his head, and to keep some of the ecstasy off my face as I rode him to orgasm. And still I rode him, staying astride until my hardon subsided, until I unhooked my feet, spread my legs, and slid down his back, momentarily riding his slim waist before I dismounted altogether.
Another big grin, and he was swooping to the edge of the pool, up out of the water, and out the door to the locker rooms. I noticed a substantial vertical bulge in the blue trunks. And in all this time, not a single word. He vanished, and I never saw him again.
Of course, it's not always like that. For instance, I remember meeting Chris in similar circumstances, in a big hotel pool in New Orleans. I was standing in the shallow water, watching a young guy with his blond date on his shoulders, and stroking my cock underwater. This girl must have worked out regularly. She had with rather small, hard breasts above a slim waist and visibly muscular legs. Her black tank suit was cut to her waist, and the thong back showed off her hard, boyish buns, wriggling on her mount's strong shoulders as she rode him. I could imagine her at a rock concert in that tank suit, riding her date just like this, humping astride him in time to the music and creaming all over the back of his neck.
And there was this big blond guy right beside me, watching just as intently. "Will you look at that," he commented, almost to himself. "She's really riding the shit out of that guy." But then, a direct look straight into my eyes that told me that perhaps he wasn't just talking to himself after all. "Yeah. It looks like fun," I replied tentatively. He was tall, a Scandinavian-looking guy taller than I, perhaps six-two or six-three, with a powerful build. (He turned out to be a college wrestler and football player; he weighed a little over 200 pounds.)
I wondered if this blond hunk was aware of what I was doing underwater. I decided to test my luck. "How about challenging them to a chicken fight?" Another straight look, this time accompanied by an ear-to-ear grin. "I'd like that. C'mon, get on my shoulders," he replied, mobing in front of me so that I could mount him. He had big, broad shoulders and a powerfully muscled neck, and I was ready to cum just THINKING about riding this guy. I was guessing that he knew already that I was hard, and wouldn't be upset to discover it once he felt me astride his neck.
That question got settled very quickly. As I put my hands on his shoulders, he suddenly backed up so that his trim, round ass was pressed back against my hardon for a few seconds, and not by accident. "Oh, yeah," he said, to my relief and delight, "Come, on, cowboy, straddle me!" He flexed his knees a bit, and I sprang up behind him, spreading my legs as I vaulted to his waiting shoulders, and was astride him. As I felt his broad shoulders beneath my buns and his neck muscles caressing my balls and upright shaft, I gripped him with my legs and hooked my feet behind his back. The feel of his muscles moving between my bare thighs, his neck tight in my excited crotch, was unbelievably exciting.
"You feel good up there," he commented. "I feel GREAT up here, I replied." Me began moving around as I centered my weight astride him, and his neck muscles rippled between my thighs as he headed for the couple we had been watching with such interest.
They were certainly willing, and we rode a few chicken fights, although it was really all in fun and neither rider was unhorsed even for a moment. I got even more excited watching the blond girl from the vantage point of my own mount's shoulders. She really knew how to ride and obviously loved it, and her date was just as obviously delighted to feel this sexy girl's bare buns wriggling around on his shoulders and squeezing his neck between her strong bare thighs during the push and pull of our double-decker wrestling. I didn't have to be too careful to keep my hardon from being seen because Chris's neck was fairly long and my cock was pretty much hidden in his mop of blond hair, but it was visible from above as I bounced around astride him, so the girl must have seen it. But she was having a great time, and showed nothing but smiles, little squeaks of excitement, and hardened nipples as we rode together.
After awhile her horse wore out and they gave up the struggle, but Chris was far from quitting. He moved into deeper water, only his head above the surface, and as he moved his shoulders and rotated his head against my throbbing shaft I realized that he was jerking off under water. With my hands on his head, I rode him until I exploded, cumming astride him as he climaxed under me.
Chris and I spent two evenings together until his meeting was over and he went back to Dallas. We met in his hotel room, and he accepted my rules of equine behavior very readily: He was not to stand in my presence unless I was riding his shoulders, and was to keep silent unless invited to speak. He loved being a horse, and had enjoyed giving people rides on his shoulders or back since he was a kid, but I was the first rider to come astride him in that way.
He met me at the door, as arranged, in gym shorts and a tee shirt, and I was dressed the same way. First I mounted his back and rode him around the room a bit, using his hair as reins and pulling his head up to make him keep his back bent deeply for form a natural bareback saddle. It felt great. Then I led him through some equine calisthenics: donkey calf raises with me riding his back, side raises with him lying on his side and raising his trunk while I held his legs down by sitting astride his top thigh, which pressed up into my crotch with each rep. He could even do pushups with me astride his back. But best of all were squats and lunges with me riding his broad shoulders.
When we were both thoroughly turned on, we stripped, and I mounted his shoulders again, naked this time. It felt wonderful. I remember that his neck was a bit warmer than my balls, and his smooth blond hair gently tickled my throbbing shaft. He got really excited and jerked off again while I rode him.
Finally I dismounted and had him get down for a naked bareback pony ride. I slid one bare leg over his butt and settled in astride him, his slim waist tight in my crotch as I gripped him between my thighs, and my cock slid smoothly in the groove of his spine as he began to carry his naked, aroused sex-jockey around the room. After a minute of this I was ready to explode, and finally leaned forward astride him, humping astride his smooth back until I let go with a yell and what seemed like a quart of cum.
Only two nights, and Chris was gone. I lost track of him after awhile because we lived so far apart, but now and then I come across someone like him who enjoys the sensual experience of being ridden by a naked guy with a hard cock.
As I said, it doesn't happen too often - not nearly often enough - but it's great when it does.
Naturally, I enjoyed watching all this, but as I was in my twenties at the time he never paid the slightest attention to me. Anyhow, one day he had latched on to a slim, well-built kid who really looked sexy riding him in brief black stretch-nylon trunks like my own. He had his hands on the boy's thighs as he jumped around in the water, and I noticed that he was changing the angle of his neck in his rider's crotch and rotating his head a little as if he were trying to feel the boy's cock and stimulate it a bit.
Well, *I* was certainly stimulated. In fact I was hard as hell and so absorbed in what I was seeing that I was taken by surprised when a tall, muscular black guy suddenly appeared right in front of me, swimming just under the surface in brief blue trunks that showed off his slim hips and hard buns. I remember noticing them as he brushed past me, and thinking that this good-looking hunk was about to collide with me because he had his eyes closed underwater. But as he passed me, he hand reached out to grab my hardon, and he stroked it quite deliberately as he swam by, still underwater. As I looked over my shoulder in amazement, here was this big stud standing up in the shallow water about ten feet behind me with a big grin on his face.
I decided to take a chance. As I said, sometimes it DOES happen. I grinned back, and stood with my legs apart, still with my back to him, and hoped for the best.
Sure enough, down he went, underwater again and heading right towards me. In a few seconds I felt his hair brush the insides of my thighs, and the incomparably delicious feeling of his muscular neck pressing up into my hot crotch as he gripped my thighs with his hands and stood up with me astride him. I locked my legs around his sides and hooked my feet behind his back as he began moving around beneath me.
I guess I rode him for about five or ten minutes. I was hard already, and I kept my hands on his head most of the time as I generally do when I ride a guy's shoulders in public, otherwise my hardon is visible an inch or so over the top of my mount's head. His Afro hid my hard cock effectively, however, and I could feel it against my cock through the thin cloth of my brief swimsuit as I rode him, expecially because he kept rotating his head back against my shaft, which got even harder as I began to match his own movements, my hips moving as I twisted and humped astride him. The other guy paid no attention to us at all, but continued cavorting around with his own bareback jockey still riding his neck, looking even sexier from my new perspective straddling my own muscular mount. But I had little attention to spare, because I was beginning to spasm astride my mount's neck, feeling the muscles rippling between my naked thighs and the thick shoulders supporting my weight. I found myself squeezing him rhythmically, thigh muscles contracting, hips pumping, his hair tickling the head of my cock, which was now poking free of my briefs.
And then I climaxed, somehow managing to retain enough presence of mind to catch the gusher in my hand to prevent a visible arc of jism over the top of his head, and to keep some of the ecstasy off my face as I rode him to orgasm. And still I rode him, staying astride until my hardon subsided, until I unhooked my feet, spread my legs, and slid down his back, momentarily riding his slim waist before I dismounted altogether.
Another big grin, and he was swooping to the edge of the pool, up out of the water, and out the door to the locker rooms. I noticed a substantial vertical bulge in the blue trunks. And in all this time, not a single word. He vanished, and I never saw him again.
Of course, it's not always like that. For instance, I remember meeting Chris in similar circumstances, in a big hotel pool in New Orleans. I was standing in the shallow water, watching a young guy with his blond date on his shoulders, and stroking my cock underwater. This girl must have worked out regularly. She had with rather small, hard breasts above a slim waist and visibly muscular legs. Her black tank suit was cut to her waist, and the thong back showed off her hard, boyish buns, wriggling on her mount's strong shoulders as she rode him. I could imagine her at a rock concert in that tank suit, riding her date just like this, humping astride him in time to the music and creaming all over the back of his neck.
And there was this big blond guy right beside me, watching just as intently. "Will you look at that," he commented, almost to himself. "She's really riding the shit out of that guy." But then, a direct look straight into my eyes that told me that perhaps he wasn't just talking to himself after all. "Yeah. It looks like fun," I replied tentatively. He was tall, a Scandinavian-looking guy taller than I, perhaps six-two or six-three, with a powerful build. (He turned out to be a college wrestler and football player; he weighed a little over 200 pounds.)
I wondered if this blond hunk was aware of what I was doing underwater. I decided to test my luck. "How about challenging them to a chicken fight?" Another straight look, this time accompanied by an ear-to-ear grin. "I'd like that. C'mon, get on my shoulders," he replied, mobing in front of me so that I could mount him. He had big, broad shoulders and a powerfully muscled neck, and I was ready to cum just THINKING about riding this guy. I was guessing that he knew already that I was hard, and wouldn't be upset to discover it once he felt me astride his neck.
That question got settled very quickly. As I put my hands on his shoulders, he suddenly backed up so that his trim, round ass was pressed back against my hardon for a few seconds, and not by accident. "Oh, yeah," he said, to my relief and delight, "Come, on, cowboy, straddle me!" He flexed his knees a bit, and I sprang up behind him, spreading my legs as I vaulted to his waiting shoulders, and was astride him. As I felt his broad shoulders beneath my buns and his neck muscles caressing my balls and upright shaft, I gripped him with my legs and hooked my feet behind his back. The feel of his muscles moving between my bare thighs, his neck tight in my excited crotch, was unbelievably exciting.
"You feel good up there," he commented. "I feel GREAT up here, I replied." Me began moving around as I centered my weight astride him, and his neck muscles rippled between my thighs as he headed for the couple we had been watching with such interest.
They were certainly willing, and we rode a few chicken fights, although it was really all in fun and neither rider was unhorsed even for a moment. I got even more excited watching the blond girl from the vantage point of my own mount's shoulders. She really knew how to ride and obviously loved it, and her date was just as obviously delighted to feel this sexy girl's bare buns wriggling around on his shoulders and squeezing his neck between her strong bare thighs during the push and pull of our double-decker wrestling. I didn't have to be too careful to keep my hardon from being seen because Chris's neck was fairly long and my cock was pretty much hidden in his mop of blond hair, but it was visible from above as I bounced around astride him, so the girl must have seen it. But she was having a great time, and showed nothing but smiles, little squeaks of excitement, and hardened nipples as we rode together.
After awhile her horse wore out and they gave up the struggle, but Chris was far from quitting. He moved into deeper water, only his head above the surface, and as he moved his shoulders and rotated his head against my throbbing shaft I realized that he was jerking off under water. With my hands on his head, I rode him until I exploded, cumming astride him as he climaxed under me.
Chris and I spent two evenings together until his meeting was over and he went back to Dallas. We met in his hotel room, and he accepted my rules of equine behavior very readily: He was not to stand in my presence unless I was riding his shoulders, and was to keep silent unless invited to speak. He loved being a horse, and had enjoyed giving people rides on his shoulders or back since he was a kid, but I was the first rider to come astride him in that way.
He met me at the door, as arranged, in gym shorts and a tee shirt, and I was dressed the same way. First I mounted his back and rode him around the room a bit, using his hair as reins and pulling his head up to make him keep his back bent deeply for form a natural bareback saddle. It felt great. Then I led him through some equine calisthenics: donkey calf raises with me riding his back, side raises with him lying on his side and raising his trunk while I held his legs down by sitting astride his top thigh, which pressed up into my crotch with each rep. He could even do pushups with me astride his back. But best of all were squats and lunges with me riding his broad shoulders.
When we were both thoroughly turned on, we stripped, and I mounted his shoulders again, naked this time. It felt wonderful. I remember that his neck was a bit warmer than my balls, and his smooth blond hair gently tickled my throbbing shaft. He got really excited and jerked off again while I rode him.
Finally I dismounted and had him get down for a naked bareback pony ride. I slid one bare leg over his butt and settled in astride him, his slim waist tight in my crotch as I gripped him between my thighs, and my cock slid smoothly in the groove of his spine as he began to carry his naked, aroused sex-jockey around the room. After a minute of this I was ready to explode, and finally leaned forward astride him, humping astride his smooth back until I let go with a yell and what seemed like a quart of cum.
Only two nights, and Chris was gone. I lost track of him after awhile because we lived so far apart, but now and then I come across someone like him who enjoys the sensual experience of being ridden by a naked guy with a hard cock.
As I said, it doesn't happen too often - not nearly often enough - but it's great when it does.
