I live not too far from a great state park; it is very well known and has a lot of walking trails. I find it very relaxing due to the lack of people, especially in the middle of the day and middle of the week, to go out and just walk. I love to exercise. I love the fresh air. I just love nature and being by myself.
I always park in the parking lot and plan on walking two, maybe three hours. I also always put my hair up, wear a light top, baggy walking shorts, and my great walking shoes.
This day I arrived just after noon so I could walk off my cucumber sandwich. After walking for about forty minutes, I stopped at one of the four drinking fountains I stop at on each walk. (Yes there are many placed throughout the walking paths in the park.)
As I leaned forward to drink, I heard a sound that caught my attention. No, it was not any animal, (Hmmm maybe in a way he was!)
Anyway I looked, and I saw a man maybe twice my age with a head full of gray hair leaning against a tree. It sounded like he was crying. That was the first thing that made me look over at him. Then I noticed that he had both of his arms wrapped in bandages and both were in two separate slings.
I walked over to him. I put my hand on his shoulder and asked him what was wrong?
He sniffled and told me that he was in an accident a week earlier, and he had burned both of his arms.
He said, "I have walked this park every day before the accident for five years. Today I finally convinced my nurse that I could do my two-hour walk, even insisting I could do it alone. But now I'm stuck."
I really felt sorry for this man, but wondered what it was that made him "stuck." I just thought maybe he was lost or something. Or maybe his arms were hurting, or maybe he forgot or lost his pain medicine?
With my hand on his shoulder I rubbed it, wanting to comfort him. I asked him, "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"
He sniffled again and said, "Yes, yes I am, I need help. But not how you think I need help. I know that I can't make it home to my nurse. It is a good hour walk back down the hill and to my house. There's just no way I can make it in time."
I said, "Maybe I can run down to the parking lot and call an ambulance for you, or possibly I can find someone who can help us. Wait here, I'll go get help."
He said, "No, that isn't the kind of pain I am in. I really do need my nurse. You see, Miss, I never considered needing to go to the bathroom. I have to urinate badly, and she is not here to help me. I guess I drank too much water before heading out, but I just thought I could hold it until I returned back to the house. I am don't want to pee in my pants, (but surely I will if I don't get help soon. I can make it to the men's room fine, but then is my dilemma, Miss."
Holding his arms up he adds, "But once there, I can't unzip my slacks and get my Johnson out. I am so embarrassed and hate to bother you, but I can't hold it much longer and there is no one else here to help me." He began to whimper again.
I stood there in shock. Of all the things I thought he might say to me, that was not one of them. I looked down at his crotch. I could see that his penis was pushing out hard against his slacks, and I figured it was what my ex-husband called a "piss hard-on."
My husband left me over nine months ago for another woman, and I was not really keen on men at the moment, to say the least. When we were together, we had a very active sex life throughout high school. But for the last six years of our marriage, that sex part had been missing, replaced by constant arguments and fights. I missed the sex part of our marriage, but not any of the arguing and fighting.
Looking at the man in front of me, I knew that he was in a lot of discomfort if not a lot of pain from holding it. I looked at his wrapped hands, and I could tell that he could in no way unzip himself and pull his dick out (sorry he called it his "Johnson"). I guess that must be an age thing. My dad once in a while would refer to his penis like that.
I patted his back and said, "There, there, mister. Maybe you could make it down the hill. Or maybe we can find a ranger and he could help you."
He sniffled again and said, "I really can't make it, Miss. Even if you wanted to help me like my nurse would, at this point I don't think I can even make it into the men's room over there."
I looked where he was looking and saw the brick men's room maybe twenty feet away from us.
Then I thought to myself, I have seen my brother's, my husband's, and even some in porn movies when I was younger. I mean this was not sexual and besides, if his nurse was with him, she would help this poor man out. I told myself to just suck it up and just be a woman that is helping a poor man to go to the bathroom and pee. It is a natural thing, everyone in the world has to pee, and it was the right thing to do at this moment.
I said, "Look mister, I will help you since your nurse is not here. Let's first get you into the men's room and we'll go from there"
He looked at me, and for the first time, I realized that he was a very good-looking man, maybe in his late forties or early fifties.
He said. "You sure honey, I mean you don't mind helping out an old helpless man like this? I would be indebted to you so much."
He started to walk very slowly and he said, "I can't move too fast. It is getting very hard to control my bladder."
I walked with him, looking around for anyone to come and help me, I mean us. Preferably a man so I would not have to see or touch him if I could avoid it. I saw no one as we walked in. This was the kind of open rest room that did not have any doors, instead one of those wrap around openings so you could go in and, once you were in, no one from outside could look in.
I took him up to one of the four urinals. We stopped and just stood there in front of the first one. All of a sudden it hit me. I had to do something. I reached down and tried to unzip his trousers.
I say tried because no matter what I did I could not get his zipper down. His dick was pushing his slacks out, and my hand kept brushing against it every now and then. I tugged and tugged; I pulled and finally went down on one knee to get a better grip of the tiny little metal stem.
I knew that no matter what I would or could do, that damn zipper was not coming down. The man said, "Once in a while that happens. Sandy, my nurse, has to just drop my pants. Can you undo the belt and pull them down so I can pee?"
Kneeling there on one knee, I reached up in front of me just above my head. I undid his belt, but his trousers were so tight on his hips that they did not just fall down.
He said, "You are gonna have to pull them down dear. Just grab the sides and pull them, please. I looked up at his sad eyes as I placed my other knee on the floor for leverage. I reached up; placing both of my hands on each side of his hips and trousers, I tugged on them. After a lot of pulling, his trousers finally came down with one last quick hard pull.
It caught me off guard because when I did manage to pull his pants down kneeling in front of him so close, I got a big surprise. Well two really. First, he was not wearing any underwear. Then, when his pants fell to the floor, his "Johnson" seemed to pop out as the trousers caught it. It bounced straight up, brushing me above my top lip touching the bottom of my nose
It then stood straight up and hard as a rock. He was circumcised and the tip was a tiny bit shiny. Now as I told you, I have seen men's dicks before. But I had just never seen one quite like his. He was big and thick! It had to be maybe twice the length of my ex.
I will just say it not only surprised me, but it caught me off guard to say the least. Here I was with my face inches from one of the most beautiful cocks that I had ever seen in my life, and it had touched my face for a moment. Plus he had to pee with it.
I watched him turn and then move his feet to shuffle up closer to the urinal in front of him, his cock was right next to my right shoulder.
I could not take my eyes off of his cock as he moved closer to the urinal. He said, "Honey I need you to point it for me. If you don't, piss will shoot out and go everywhere. You need to point it for me into the urinal."
I never took my eyes off of his dick. I just reached up and took hold of it, and I heard him make a sound as I put my fingers and hand around him.
I aimed it for him and nothing happened. I looked up at him and said, "Go ahead, pee; I'm aiming it for you."
He said, "Sometimes when a man holds it as long as I have had to do, you need to prime the pump so to speak. Just slide your hand up and down the shaft a tiny bit. That will hopefully relax the muscle."
I did not give it any thought. I mean, many times I had to go pretty badly myself, and I had to relax a bit just to start. Now I have never been a nurse, but I am sure that if she were here, she would do it for him, I began to slide my hand slowly up and down as he asked so it would help this poor man out.
He said, "Just a little tighter honey, I think it is working."
I tightened my grip just a little more moving my hand up and down his shaft, and he felt so big in my hand.
I kept looking at the end of his dick, hoping to see some sort of reaction to my helping him; I wanted to make sure he peed to get relief. I really hoped that I was doing it right so he could pee.
He said, "Sometimes my nurse Sandy would have to shake it a bit as well. Why don't you try really shaking it as you pull that muscle to get me started?"
I began shaking and pulling and finally, after a soft moan, the poor man let loose and began to pee. I just knelt there aiming it, amazed that I had such a view of a man and his cock like this. I had never witnessed a man pee before and this was much more than watching a man pee; I was holding him and helping him.
I thought it would be a very long pee, like when I go when I hold it for too long. I was surprised when he did not take as long as I thought. As he finished, I let go of him and he quickly said, "Oh no, with men you have to milk out all the urine, or it goes back up into the bladder. So we have to stand here just a bit longer. I really do appreciate your help young lady, by the way. Now if you could just grab the base of my Johnson real close to the groin and slowly squeeze the remaining urine out."
I reached up and got a good hold of him close to his pubic hair. I slowly pulled my hand up his hard shaft and, sure enough, a little bit of urine came out. He said, "See what I mean honey? We need to do this just a few more minutes before you pull my pants up."
I slid my hand up and down his shaft three times and, on the fourth time,
he took a step back and turned to face me. I did not stop stroking him. I didn't want to stop. I did not want to let go of this beautiful thing in my hand. I just wanted to keep kept milking his cock. No more urine came out, but his cock got so hard. My eyes were fixed on the tip of his big shiny head of his dick. I could see a clear liquid begin to show.
I heard him say in my daze, "Yea, that's it honey, see it, do it a little faster honey. Yea, just like that."
I now started to realize that somewhere, somehow, this was more than just helping him pee. I had always loved playing with my boyfriends' cocks and giving them hand jobs. Peter was the only boy or man that I had ever been with that did not care for me to give him a hand-job or even a blowjob.