Free Willy
By Rob Rosen
I’ve always had a penchant for going commando. Oh sure, it saves big bucks on boxers, but mostly it’s because I long ago found that if I cut holes in the front pockets of my pants, I could play with my c**k any time of the day. It looks like I’m searching for some change or car keys or the like, but in actuality I’m pulling my pud, stroking my rod, yanking my nuts, and trying my darndest not to shoot a load down my leg—and all in broad daylight, for the whole world to see. Or, that is to say, of course, not see.
Oh, and of course, if I can reach in, my c**k can also come out. In fact, freeing Willy has become a sort of favorite pastime of mine.
Sitting at my desk at work, safe in my cubicle, I pull my prick through the hole, where it juts up, hard as granite, re
