Chapter 1: "Caught with My Pants On" By Dave Brumaste
Always open to constructive criticism. You can be blunt, I'm a big boy, I can take it. :) axiszero@tutamail.com
Thanks for reading.
A chat bubble popped up in the lower right-hand corner of the screen.
Srinivasan: "Hey."
It wasn't a username I was familiar with, so before I replied, I clicked through to his Bateworld profile. Much like mine, it was mostly blank. Just his location: United States. Gender: cis-male. Penis size listed as: Average. Everything else: "rather not say."
Srinivasan did have one line in his "about me" section. He had written: "Regular guy who likes to masturbate penis."
Those last two words are definitely triggers for me, so I responded.
Me: "Heya. What's up?"
Srinivasan: "Not much, killing time. Did a search for guys in my area and found your profile."
Me: "Ahh cool. I've done that search too. LOL."
Srinivasan: "No pics?"
Weird flex for someone who also had no pictures in his profile, but I replied anyway: "Yeah, no pics in the profile. I do use the `vidchat' room sometimes and show there... but nothing that can be right-clicked and saved... you know?
Srinivasan: "Yeah, same."
There was a long pause, as there sometimes are in a chat like this. Maybe he got up to piss, maybe he got a phone call, maybe he just got a vibe and bailed. Who knows? I wasn't gonna stress over it.
Then...
Srinivasan: "You masturbating?"
And here we go.
Me: "Kinda. Taking a break from a project I'm working on. Business partner headed out early, so I've got the job site to myself. Thought I'd log in before heading home. You?"
Srinivasan: "Yeah man. Hairy, adult penis in my fist RN. Leaking."
My penis reacted immediately to the clinical words he'd slipped into that reply. I like specific vocabulary rather than slang. It triggers something in me. Sure, I know what someone means when they say they're `jerking off, jacking dick, or stroking cock'... but there's something so undeniable about words like masturbate and penis. There's no ambiguity. They're direct and specific. That thin veil of euphemism is pulled back, leaving only the exact meaning of what one is discussing.
Me: "Right on. How long you been at it?"
Srinivasan: "Like 30 mins so far... really need to ejaculate semen, buddy."
Fuck... this dude was no longer fingering my trigger--he was squeezing it. Hard.
Me: "I hear that. Mind if I ask how old a guy you are?"
I always ask this question. It's a bit of a scene-killer, I know. But I'm only interested in talking with adults about activities between consenting adults. Sure, some punk-ass 14-year-old could lie about his age, but his language would probably give him away at some point, and at least I'd done my due diligence.
Srinivasan: "39. You?"
Me: "I got a couple of years on you... 45 here."
Srinivasan: "Bro. If we were sitting across from each other, I'd just be like, `Dude, look at how aroused my penis is right now.' I wish you could see the big drop of pre-seminal fluid that I just squeezed out of my urethral meatus."
Not gonna lie, I had to look it up. I was pretty sure I knew what the urethral meatus was based on the context and my kink for specifics, but I wanted to be sure. FYI: It's the `piss slit' in the vernacular.
I replied: "I love being able to openly stare at a buddy's fully erect, hairy, adult penis. And I appreciate the implied consent in your invitation. Bro, that is a huge, clear drop of pre-seminal fluid. So fucking masculine."
Things were heating up. But I remained fully clothed, just squeezing my erection through the thick, tan, firehose fabric of my Duluth Trading Company work shorts and the black cotton of my boxer briefs under that.
Srinivasan: "You gonna take yours out?"
How does he know I haven't already? I wondered. Maybe just context clues... I had said I was finishing up on a `job site,' and I hadn't expressly said I had taken mine out. His question definitely came up against the part of my brain that handles the flight-or-fight response, but I pushed that aside and continued in full role-play mode.
Me: "Yeah, buddy. Is it cool if I take my penis out? I'd like to compare our erections. Size each other up."
Srinivasan: "100%. Totally cool. It's just us. Just buds taking a friendship up a notch. Tightening our connection. Bonding through our exposed sex organs."
Me: "Fuck yeah buddy. No shame, no embarrassment, no closed doors... just encouragement and inspiration from a bud who understands the need."
Srinivasan: "All guys do it, we need to be more open and honest about penis masturbation. So are you gonna push your cargo shorts down around your ankles and masturbate with me, bro?"
I froze. I felt the blood drain from my face as a flash of panic washed over me. How the fuck did he know I was wearing cargos... and how did he know they were shorts? I quickly held my hand to cover the cam in my laptop. Was it on? No. And even if it was, my shorts wouldn't be in the shot. I looked around the penthouse condo my flipping partner Sam and I had just started renovating in Downtown Atlanta. We'd stripped it down to the studs. I could see through the timber framing to every room in the place, even the bathrooms. We'd had a break-in a few days ago, but right now there was no one in here but me.
I looked out the huge windows that faced Centennial Olympic Park and the hotels and myriad other tall buildings nearby... maybe someone with binoculars in one of those glass towers could see in, but what are the chances they'd be able to make out my laptop screen?
Me: "What the fuck dude, how do you know what kinda shorts I have on?"
Another long beat... and my paranoia was growing.
Srinivasan: "Dave... it's me."
Me? My blood ran cold. He knew my name... and apparently, I knew HIM too!
Srinivasan: "The security cam app pinged me when it saw activity in the condo. Remember? The one we talked about setting up after those tools went missing?"
My head pivoted. And then I saw it. I had totally forgotten the RingCam Sam told me he was going to install. Me, my laptop, the bulge in my cargos--everything was being fed right to my business partner's phone in HD.
Srinivasan: "It's cool dude. I didn't see anything..."
The adrenaline was still pumping, and it was mixing with a weird feeling of relief, embarrassment, and anger.
Me: "Fuck man... why didn't you just call or text me? So embarrass..."
Then it hit me... Sam was messaging me from Bateworld! I quickly clicked back to `Srinivasan's' profile. And there it was: Sign-up date: 2016. Last login: TODAY, 2022. If it is Sam, he didn't just create this profile today to bust me. He's been a member a long time.
Srinivasan, or Sam, started typing before I could hit enter on my last message: "Don't be embarrassed, bro. It's all good. I kinda thought it was funny we both have accounts on BW. I've been here on and off for years. I was already logged in when the cam pinged me. When I saw what site you were looking at, I did a search for users from Atlanta and filtered for `online now.' Got lucky on the second try."
Was that a little stalker-y? Maybe. Would I have done the same? I don't know. Probably.
Srinivasan continued: "Now that I think about it, it is kind of a shitty thing to spy on you... and I am sorry... but I knew I would be coming clean at some point, so... don't be pissed. If I'm being totally honest, it was starting to get kinda hot."
My head was spinning. Did I just have a really graphic conversation about penis and precum with the guy I've been business partners with for years? Was Sam a "bator"? I've met his girlfriend, and he's met my ex-wife... we've, like, `hung out' together lots. Drank beers in bars and talked about projects and life and shit.
Then, I suddenly realized--every time we'd shaken hands, we'd been gripping each other's masturbation instrument. And my penis started to swell again.
Me: "Well, I AM gonna be embarrassed, Sam. We talked about `pre-ejaculate fluid,' for Christ's sake."
Srinivasan: "No, we talked about pre-SEMINAL fluid. LOL."
His tone eased my mind a little...
Me: "What is a Srinivasan anyway?"
Srinivasan: "Ha! Even after all these years, I guess you wouldn't know... it is, or was, my given name. I had it legally changed when I turned 18. I was tired of people not being able to pronounce it. Sam is a nickname I got in junior high. Dunno how they got Sam out of Srinivasan... but somehow my friend group came up with it, and it stuck. Srinivasan is still my middle name. My very Indian parents insisted my family's Hindu roots stay somewhere in there."
Sam may have been born in South Carolina (and had the accent to prove it), but he had South Asian features. Dark skin--darker than some of my African American friends--dark brown eyes, black hair on his forearms, legs, and head. I've never seen him shirtless, but I assume there too. He was a big guy. I'm 6 feet, and he's at least an inch taller than me. Thickly built. Not fat and not a gym rat, but broad-shouldered and definitely muscular. He'd probably hate the comparison, but he looked kind of like the actor Kal Penn, but thicker.
But the thing that really stood out to me on the day we met, and made me like him almost immediately all those years ago when we randomly ended up sitting next to each other at one of those hotel ballroom real estate seminars, was his smile. Just a genuine, easygoing, friendly smile that made me comfortable immediately.
Interestingly enough, we had never really discussed his ethnicity, or my corn-fed, Midwest white-guy background either. I knew he was born in Beaufort, SC, but his Indian heritage just never came up. Never needed to.
Me: "OK, Srinivasan, so is this gonna be weird now? You've clearly done your homework on my preference for clinical words and phrasing... did you see that in some forum we're both members of on BW?"
Srinivasan: "It doesn't have to be weird, dude. We're the same buds we were before today, except now we've added another layer. If you want, I'll totally forget this ever happened. We don't ever have to talk about it again... but I will say it's kinda cool to have a friend in the REAL world I can talk to about BATEworld."
Once again, he was putting me at ease. I could hear that friendly smile coming through in his words.
Srinivasan: "And as for the language... I had no idea that was a thing for you. It's always been a thing for me. I don't remember how it started, but I've always preferred the... I guess... medical(?) terms for body parts. I dunno why. It may have really become a trigger for me after I started calling a phone line I read about on BW. When dudes talked like that, those were the ones I'd try to go 1 on 1 with."
Me: "The Manhole?"
Srinivasan: "YES! Fuck! You know about that?"
Me: "Been calling for years... was just about to dial in when you messaged me."
Srinivasan: "Now we have even more in common. Do you think we've ever talked on there?"
Me: "Maybe... I'm drawn to a hick accent."
Srinivasan: "Fuck you... and wild, right? What if we have?"
I flashed back to how this interaction started, and a question occurred to me, so, echoing some of his words, I asked: Me: "Hey, um... when you said you had your hairy, adult penis in your fist earlier... did you?"
I expected another long pause... but he started typing immediately.
Srinivasan: "LOL... Yeah, I did. I do, actually. When the alert from the cam pinged on my phone, I was about 30 mins into a sesh. I have the house to myself tonight. It's what I do if I get some alone time. You know?"
Knowing he was watching, I looked at the cam, put my arms out, and gestured around the room. As if to say, `Yeah, duh. I know! That's what I was doing.'
Srinivasan: "LOL... So dude, are we cool?"
Me: "I'm still hella embarrassed, but yeah. I guess we are. We have to be... There's still a shit-ton of work left to do on this place if we wanna get it on the market anytime soon."
Srinivasan: "About that, I've been thinking..."
To be continued...