As I walked, naked, into the pool area yesterday I looked down at my swollen manhood. It was twice its normal flacid size, the skin tight against its stiffness. Heads turned as I walked by; eyes following my progress to our chaises. As I reclined I took care to adjust my engorged member and finally lay back. Occasionally, I would gently stroke it as I looked around the pool area.
Every now and then, people would casually walk by or even stop to chat. But I could see them stealing glances at my throbbing dick. There were a couple of women who actually asked if they could touch it.
Zzzrrrrrrrrrrttt! Wait a second! Isn't this supposed to be a family nudist resort? How in the hell was I getting away with this behavior? Well, believe it or not -- I can explain.
I was cutting my grass yesterday morning. When I was all done weed whacking, grass mowing, and leaf blowing I went to put up the umbrella in our little grassy patio area. As I was standing there, admiring the manicured look of the yard, I felt a sudden sting in my right shin. I looked down startled and saw my legs beginning to be engulfed in an angry cloud of some kind of bees. I did a quick pirouette (I know -- that never helps) and dashed for the openness of the back yard. As I ran and batted at my attackers I felt several more stings.
Fortunately I am not allergic to bee stings. They just hurt like hell and swell up for a little while. When it was all over I had two stings on my right leg and two stings on my penis. That's right -- my dick! So I called my wife, who was already at the pool, to tell her what happened. She rushed right up, checked out the damage, looked up bee stings on the internet and ultimately contributed nothing to the problem.
While we were talking my penis continued to swell. The skin turned red, the venom irritating the tissues. My body began sending histamines to counter the poison and the extra fluids created the swelling. The throbbing, yet pinpoint pain of the two stings was almost unbearable. So I would occasionally gently stroke the area in a vain effort to ease the pain.
As in any small community, word spread of my mishap and by the time I was able to make it to the pool, everyone was aware of my situation. So that was how I was able to walk around the pool area with an enlarged member, sit there and stroke it, and not get thrown out.
So get your brain out of the gutter.
Fortunately, my condition only lasted several hours. Getting in the pool really helped. By mid afternoon it was mostly back to normal. I did have some fun with it later that evening at the dance, however. By this time everyone's concern had morphed into humor. It was, I had to admit, too good not to laugh at.
But not to be out done, I seized the moment. I was wearing a pair of shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. And when people (especially women) would ask "how's your dick?" and then laugh, I would say:
"Almost all of the swelling has gone down. But it's still huge. Want to see it?"
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