Years ago I lived in a small neighborhood in Iowa. One evening my neighbor from across the street came over to introduce himself. His name was Frank. During our conversation of housing costs and rude neighbors he asked me if I lived alone at which time I told him I was gay. He didn't seem offended or disturbed by my confession, but simply nodded his head in agreement. As the months went by Frank often came over to talk while I worked in my garage or in the backyard. One day while his wife was at work, he came over to chat with me while I refinished a bookshelf. While I worked we made small talk about other neighbors and his job. Frank was in his late fifties, about six feet tall. Not thin, but with a small gut, and a neatly trimmed beard. What I noticed most about Frank as he walked up the driveway was his huge bulge, and the way his package bounced up and down in the light colored tan shorts he often wore when he visited me. While we talked, he would cross his legs at his feet as he leaned back against the workbench that lined the back wall of my garage. This forced his cock and balls to push forward and up, stretching the fabric of his shorts to form a huge bulge which perfectly outlined his cock and balls. I could easily make out his thick, long cock, and equally proportion sized cock head as it arched over came to rest below the biggest pair of balls I think I have ever seen. I could see the top of his white briefs above the sides his shorts, and I often thought about how much I wanted to be those briefs, and how those pair of white briefs obviously had their work cut out for them having to cradling his impressive man meat that I fantasized had to weigh at least a pound. I know Frank was aware at his ample package, and on several occasions he saw me looking at his crotch and would just smile. I never apologized or quickly looked away ... I wanted him to know I was looking.
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