guest

On 5.7.2017 at 10:43 PM, flameboard said:

Which the German guy?

Is he very well known?

No, he isn't. It's just a random channel that I found. I don't know the guy's name. 

German street pranks

low sagging throughout, you see his boxers at 3:56

Thanks to everyone! I finally fixed the formatting, so that the story is much easier to read, I hope. If I have some more free time I might try to write another part.

Translation of the video title is "Timo and Mirko go shopping".

And stupid things happened, pretty much from the first day on. That first day! It feels ridiculous to write it, but it kind of felt like walking into a battle. The excitement, the expectation of either great or terrible things. I definitely felt really awake, the memories are still vivid. My black Cheap Monday jeans, my white boxer- briefs I had chosen for this day.

I always loved the moment when I put the jeans on and pulled them down to get them to the right height ... I didn't wear a belt. So I knew my jeans would slide down, again and again. I was looking forward to that. Even in endless repetition, it was still hot, as my **** would remind me over the course of the day. In fact, my biggest fear was that a wet spot in the front of my boxer-briefs would become visible at some point. So I tried not to sag too low in the front.

Needless to say, not all reactions were positive. Most of all, I was afraid of the suspicion that I dressed this way because I REALLY liked it. (The most dangerous insults are the ones that are true, I suppose.) Anyway, the adrenaline rushed helped me cope with a lot. Early in the morning, when I was walking fast, the jeans slid down completely below my ass. I had never sagged so low in public before. My reflex was to pull the jeans up immediately, but I changed my mind at the last moment. I was just like the Danish boy now. I wouldn't mind if most of my boxer-briefs were visible. In fact, I loved it most when people commented or I could overhear them laughing or talking to each other about my underwear. That way, they acknowledged they had looked at it and seen it all. Had thought about it, and would perhaps remember the look of my low-hanging skinny jeans and my underwear on display. Maybe they would even  tell others about what they had seen. It was scary, but also lots of fun to provoke people in this way.

And of course, after some hours, I also became very proud of my own courage. I had finally pulled this off. It was  a relief, I had stopped hiding a part of myself. It was a bit like coming out of the closet, you may know that feeling.

"I'll sag below the ass, all the time now." I said to myself, euphoric as hell. "Who can force me to pull my pants up? There are no laws against sagging?" How cool would that be? Sagging low, no matter what you do. I even felt the urge to sag still lower than this, to push the limit and be the most extreme sagger. On the other hand, I was afraid it would stupid (and I was probably right about that). And there was some hostility to deal with. One boy tried to pull down my jeans completely which was pretty pointless because they were so skinny, but I was worried that the front of my boxer-briefs would become visible, and with it the outline of my half-hard ****. (I had already jerked off twice that day, to calm me down, but it didn't help much.)

Some girls were obviously disgusted by my new look and looked at me like I was some kind of sex-offender. And I also knew that I would cave in at home, that I wouldn't dare to sag this low in front of my parents. Not yet, anyway.

V.

In the evening, I imagined watching myself through the eyes of others. Which is another creepy thing about me, I guess, but I feel like I should tell the truth here. So, there was me. The black jeans, the white ass-cheeks and the crack between them. The jeans pockets almost reached down to my knees. It was a look I had always loved. And how I looked liked I didn't care. (Or didn't I? Was my excitement all too ovious? I brushed the doubts aside.) They were staring at me. They wondered what to make of it.

I remembered my dream of going to school and realizing I was naked. I had read that others dreamt such stuff, too. Anyway, it had been scary and arousing at the same time, just like this. I remembered, too, the look of people's faces from that dream. Their eyes seemed to say something like: "Woah, that's his ****! His real p***s. Holy ****. I can't look anywhere else. F***" And now, in my fantasy, it was the same with my sag. People felt that same jolt of electricity when they saw my sag, and all the gory details of it. It was like something had happened that could never happen in a normal world. It was hard to believe, but true.

I'm leaning over and my boxer-briefs are on full display. You fell like you could touch them, touch the soft fabric in a place that's so forbidden. You don't look at boys' asses. What a thought! No wonder people got angry. I'm sitting down, sitting on my underwear. Feeling the chair through the fabric, watching the crotch of my jeans, almost between the knees. What will the teacher think? What if I had to stand up and walk to the blackboard dressed like this, with a boner, with my underwear facing the class?

I was going crazy, I would cross some line, go too far. But for now, I was safe in my own room, alone with my cum, the biggest orgasm of my life. Post-orgasm, sagging suddenly seemed less attractive. That feeling, however, didn't last. The next morning, I was still in love with my new skinny jeans. With their tightness, the stretch material and the fine feeling of sagging with no belt. I was half-naked, **** still hard and hardly out of bed. But my mind was already racing. I was dreaming of underwear possibilities.

Like most saggers, I guess, I started gradually. At some age, 10 or so, I had started to wear boxer-shorts instead of the kiddie underwear that my mom bought for me. She has the worst taste in fashion. Or in boys' fashion, at lelast. Anyway, I had seen other boys wearing boxer shorts. And I wanted to look cool like them. I guess everybody learns about sagging this way. You just observe it and copy it. It probably helped that these were mostly cool and hot boys who were somehow much more interesting for me to watch than girls. They were orlder boys, too, and what they were doing seemed generally much more interesting than childish stuff.

It kind of seems ridiculous to be terrified because of sagging. Really. what are other people going to do to you? Kill you? The worst case scenario was getting laughed at. But I know that seems harsh if you're 12 years old and feel like others' opinion of you is the most important thing. At some point, anyway, other kids realized that I was sagging, because I let my pants slide down really low. I got the usual comments, nothing creative, really. "Nobody wants to see that." Kids were just channelling their parents, I suppose.

Long story short, almost everyone got used to it over time. Because they realized that I had no intention to stop. It also helped that I wasn't alone anymore. Other boys had started to sag as well. That's why it appeared like something "boys start to do at that age". It made me look more like a trendsetter than a freak. The only problem was that the excitement of sagging made it difficult to concentrate. I tended to move clumsily. And the worst danger of all? Well , you're no stranger to that, aren't you: Sagging was giving me a boner. You didn't react that way to a new T-shirt. Yeah, I had to admit at some point it was not just fashion for me. In that way, I was still different from the other boys in my class - and would always be different. Caution! I warned myself. Your big dark secret can never come out.

III.

Then, I discovered boxer-briefs. It might not seem like a big deal to you, but this kind of underwear was (and still is) very unpopular in Germany. Boys said it was too tight and uncomfortable for the balls. Only gays would wear it. So, normally I would have sticked to loose boxer-shorts. But I recognized the potential in a flash. Really low sagging didn't look so good with boxer-shorts, I knew that from experience, and my boner problem suddenly seemed much more manageable with tighter underwear.

Another factor was that skinny jeans started to come into fashion. There was still lots of resistance among boys, because really tight jeans were labelled "gay". I of all people didn't want others to question my sexuality. So I was wary of skinnies at first. But I changed my mind after I had seen boys sagging in them. These pants were made for that. It looked weird to pull them all the way up. So I was converted, no preacher needed. I was 13 now and ready to test my limits. 

Another important discovery was a video that you probably know well yourself. It was the TV clip about saggers at a Danish high school. I watched this endlessly, fantasizing about being Danish which seemed way cooler than being German anyway. The hottest boy was sagging in black Cheap Monday jeans without a belt and tight white boxer-briefs. You could see them even in the front and you almost expected to see the outline of his ****. On the other side, the boxer-briefs hugged the buttcheeks. This felt like even more blatant exposure than just putting boxer shorts on display. The missing belt made it even hotter ... I wanted to be like that so badly that I could feel it hurt. But I feared that I wasn't ready yet. Sagging had to become natural to me - that could help me control my boner problem. It certainly looked natural to me when the Danish boy did it, and I figured that he couldn't be THAT great of an actor.

One thing that helped was that you could get away with lots of stuff at my school. Only a few teachers were strict, and there were no school uniforms or any dress code at all. So I wasn't the only one with what looked like bizarre fashion choices.  I told me that endlessly. You are not alone. Nobody is going to kill you. Just do it or you will forever regret not having done it.

Finally I got the chance to buy Cheap Monday jeans in a skate store in another city. My friend said that those jeans looked way too tight and uncomfortable, "stupid". But I just laughed. I had decided that it was time to do stupid things.

Thanks! Great links.

What you feel, is very normal. I think many on this site went through such a phase. I think, in the end you'll just have to ask the other guy what he is interested in or tell him that you're gay. It's sometimes very hard to guess someone's sexual orientation.

In any case, you need not worry that being gay is unmanly. Many gay people are actually not at all effeminate.

Concerning the jokes: actually the numbers show that people become more and more accepting of homosexuality - younger people especially. Jokes are one thing, but actual hostility is something very different.

If people know someone personally who is openly gay, they become even more tolerant. So, I'm quite sure that everything would turn out well for you in the long run. And of course, you will be happier once this conflict is resolved. I know it from experience and I suppose many here would agree with that.

A bizarre little video I found ...



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvBGN_vV7EU

Of couse, it's hard. But do you want to turn yourself into a "straight" guy to please your parents? Many have tried that (myself included) and it won't work. It will, however, make you miserable. So, there is really only one option: Listen to your feellings, find out what you really like and do whatever makes you happy, yada, yada, yada. It might be hard for a while, but it will get easier.

If you're really attracted to both sexes equally, you might be bisexual. You should just try to be honest with yourself. Who makes your heart race? Who could you fall in love with? What (or who) do you fantasize about? What kind of porn do you watch? You shouldn't lie to yourself and you shouldn't try to be someone that you're not, because you are afraid or under pressure. Those are the only bad options that I can imagine.

Otherwise, feel free to experiment. In the end, life isn't so much about gay, bi or straight (and stick to one category, please!), more about finding the right people to be with. Pick someone kind and beautiful and all will be fine.

I like it when he turns around to check out who's watching him.

Thanks a lot, Kaytea!

Part 4 

Yannik left quickly after the applause had faded. The performance had been okay, but not great. At least, that was what his gut told him. He wasn't really an expert in the opera repertoire, and had found it increasingly difficult to focus on the music. Somehow, thoughts of sagging had popped up in his mind again and again while the beautiful singing heroine had been consumed by tuberculosis. (Of course, the quality of her singing had not suffered, right until the end.) Yannik had regrets now that he hadn't bothered to wear interesting underwear to the opera. He liked the feeling of it even he didn't want to show it off. From time to time, he imagined a future as an underwear collector. There were other collectors out there who had made posts in the Saggerworld forum and he had read those posts with interest ...

Yannik didn't own that many pairs of boxer-briefs right now, just 20 or so, because he always felt bad after having spent much money on underwear he didn't really need ... But it might be fun to have lots of underwear choices available each day. It might make boring days a little less boring, Yannik thought, when he was already on his way to the cloakroom to fetch his jacket.

He had to wait for a while there and fidgeted nervously. Suddenly, he discovered the sagger from before. He was staring right at him, from across the room. What was that supposed to mean? Yannik stared back, then looked away. The queue in front of him had disappeared. It was his turn and the woman handed him his jacket. He put it on quickly, but it was already too late. He couldn't see the other boy anymore. The teen sagger had left the building.

***

Chris had become a bit wary of Saggerworld.com. So many people on that site seemed to be gay. It threw a bad light on sagging, he thought. But right now, he was glad the site existed. He really felt the need to contact that other boy, and the internet offered the only remaining possibility to do so.

Unfortunately, there had been no way to leave his dad to talk to the stranger. Chris just hadn't been able to come up with a good explanation for that. He didn't even know the other boy's user name, but maybe he would recognize the other guy on a picture somewhere.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" his dad asked.

"Nothing, really. School stuff."

"I see. Lots of tests coming up?"

"Yeah, Kind of."

"I hope, La Traviata hasn't kept you from studying."

"No, no. Everything's fine. Don't worry ... I mean, the music kind of sucked." Chris smiled. "But it wasn't, like, all bad."

"Oh, that's, like, great to hear, like, from you. Totally."

"Whatever."

***

Yannik had just come home. His laptop was already booting. It was probably crazy, but he felt the need to browse the Saggerworld user galleries right now.

An hour later, his enthusiasm had turned into frustration since his search had been in vain. Finally, he forced himself to go to bed.

***

Chris's search had been much shorter, but just as unsuccessful. In the end, he had decided to upload a picture of himself (something he had never done before on Saggerworld), but the photo had to be approved by a moderator before it was visible for all users. So, there was nothing more to be done just now. His mother had already urged him to go to sleep anyway. It was a school night.

He shut down th PC, stripped naked quickly, put on a fresh pair of boxers and jumped into his bed. His **** was already half-hard from looking at all those hot pictures on the internet, and it got completely rigid when he started thinking about himself and his sagging adventures of the night. The risk of getting caught by a parent enhanced the arousal even more, so he got to the point of no return a little too fast for his own taste. Still, it felt like a proper way to end a day like this.

How is this going to end o_O I am so interested...there should be a kidnapping and some bondage

Hehe. I'm glad you're interested, but not much kidnapping and/or bondage is going to happen, sorry.

Part 3

Yannik had acted without thinking, drunk on adrenaline, but now his own actions left him speechless. The other boy was certainly not comfortable with this situation. Sagging was something that you did, but never talked about, except on the internet.

How to make it right? Yannik didn't know. He had stumbled into this without a plan.

Suddenly, he saw the boy leaving, as if he was fleeing to the security of a stall. They avoided each other's gaze. Yannik remained at his place. Another man entered the room. A Japanese man who was obviously confused. Yannik waited. He felt the urge to just walk away and forget about the whole thing. But he couldn't. Not yet. There was still this feeling that he would miss out on something important.

***

This is the weirdest guy I've met in a long time, Chris thought. First, he comments on my underwear, and then he's standing in the corner like a creep. As if he waits for an oppurtinity to ... rape me ... or whatever he's planned.

Luckily, Chris recovered from the inial shock quickly. By now, he was no longer confused, but mostly angry. He had come here to look at himself in the mirror, after all. That moment had been ruined.  And what now? Every second of this break was precious time for sagging. He spent it here, unseen.

Chris heard the electronic bell ring for the first time. The sign that the break was about to end. He stood up, correcting his sag, and opened the door to his stall.ut. Maybe the creep had left already.

Yes, there was just another guy at the urinal and a Japanese man washing his hands. Chris went past him and left the restroom.

***

Yannik had waited in front of the door. It was probably less weird to wait out here. His heart jumped as he saw the teen rushing out, jeans as low as ever.

"Wait." They looked at each other. Just pretend that we know each other, Yannik. Maybe we're friends. Or brothers ...

"Do you know Saggerworld? The website ...", Yannik said.

The boy walked on. No answer.

Yannik followed him. He noticed some people staring at the sagging jeans and the green boxer-briefs.

It was hot.

But he couldn't keep acting like a stalker. So, he watched the boy walk away, watched him pull his jeans up, which he probably did routinely before he came in sight of his parents.

Yannik smiled knowingly, as the electronic bell rang for the second time. On the other hand, he felt bad. He felt he had done it all wrong ... Or mabye it had been an inappropriate idea in the first place. Maybe, it was time to grow up and quit sagging once and for all – and delete his Saggerworld account, too. What was so important about a clothing style anyway?

***

Chris had learned the word "sagging" from Professor Google. There wasn't even a word for this kind of behavior in German. Some people used the expression "Hose unterm Arsch tragen" – wearing your trousers below ass. But it was never clear how literal somebody meant that. Most saggers didn't sag that low, after all – not below ass. So, the English expression was not only shorter, but also more accurate.

(Chris normally didn't care about things like that. But sagging was important to him, and he wanted to be able to talk about it, at least to himself. So, he had started to use the English word, in a Germanized form where the infinitive was "saggen" instead of "to sag".)

Chris had not only discovered the new word, but also two websites devoted to the topic: boxersarecool.net and saggerworld.com. So, he knew what the other boy had been talking about and while La Traviata was moving towards its tragic ending, Chris kept replaying his mental film of that encounter again and again. He started to see things in a different light now. Maybe he had missed an opportunity. Maybe that boy wasn't a creep and not even gay, just interested in sagging. He could find the other boy on Saggerworld and they could chat or even meet someday. Suddenly, Chris was so excited about that prospect. He couldn't stop thinking about sagging for the rest about the opera. Violetta – the heroine - was dying of ... cancer or pneumonia or something. Who cares? Good riddance!

Love and death seemed far away and pretty meaningless to Chris when he touched his boxer-briefs again and felt proud of the one thing that really mattered - style.

Thanks for the comments. I try to reward people who make the effort to comment. So, I added a cellist to the story. It's a great instrument anyway. 

I didn't spend much time abroad (just short trips). As I explained in previous threads, TV, movies and books are my teachers. That said, time for a (short) ...

Part 2

Chris had heard it all. "How can you walk like that?" "I can see your boxers" "Your jeans are falling down" "Nobody wants to see your underwear" "Pull up your trousers/pants" "Why do you wear jeans at all? You could just go to school in your boxers"... And the classic criticism: "It doesn't make sense."

Oh, really? Who cares? He liked the thrill of it, of course. If this kind of thrill was involved, questions became meaningless. Even the thought of sagging sometimes gave him a boner. Which was weird, true, but Chris had grown up with the internet. And if anonymous forum discussions had taught him something, then it was this. Everyone's a pervert. So you might as well have your fun whereever you find it. Sagging was definitely harmless compare to other ... interests.

A group of Japanese tourists was standing a couple of steps away from him. All male. All in dark suits. Businessmen, probably. Maybe they would tell their wives at home about that boy they had seen at the opera ... Chris suddenly felt the need to move around. He pulled his trousers up temporarily, for the sake of his dad and his friends.

"I'll be back", he said to his dad who was still immersed in the conversation with the couple he knew from somewhere. All the adults with there fake smiles and phoney laughs ... Chris turned around. He was free to wander around for the rest of the break. Precious minutes of showing off. He was walking slowly across the room, letting his jeans slide down again, bit by bit.

***

Yannik had had an on- and off relationship with sagging for the past years. It had always been his dirty secret, but he had kind of lost interest now. He rarely visited Saggerworld.com anymore, the the most popular (and best) website that was devoted to the topic. You could share pictures there and discuss stuff in the forums. It was nice. But it wasn't the real thing, the real world. Having online friends was just not as good as meeting a sagger face-to-face. Sagging together – he had often fantasized about that.

Yannik had had kind of a relationship with a boy. They weren't really together, but they had sex regularly. In any case, the sort-of-boyfriend wasn't into sagging, not at all, and Yannik didn't know anyone else who was.

So, maybe it was time to get rid of this obsession. He still sagged a little, like everybody under 30 did. A shy sag, the waistband showing. but that was nothing. Nobody else noticed it, and he himself didn't pay much attention to it either.

He certainly wasn't sagging much now. This was an opera house, after all, and Yannik was here to enjoy the music, being a cellist himself. Not a really good one, but not an amateur either. Maybe he would be a music teacher one day ... after he had finished his studies. The alternative – playing in an orchestra – didn't look promising. The competition was fierce.

So, teaching would most probably his way to make money. He would tell bored adolescents about a kind of beauty they couldn't appreciate. Or something like that. Maybe quit music and start somehting else altogether? He wasn't really sure who he was or what he wanted anymore. He ... No. Don't think about it now. Look at the people.

And that's when he discovered the boy. Wow! What a sag. So low. You hardly ever met a sagger like that at a mall. But here? This was the last place to watch saggers. Yannik had to reassure himself that this was real. The bright green boxer-briefs sticking out ... It was hard to look any other way. Suddenly, Yannik what he wanted. No second thoughts about it. He had to follow that boy.

***

Chris opened the door to the restroom. He wanted to look at himself in the mirror. The one downside of opera sagging was obviously that he couldn't watch himself do it. How could would it be if he could change perspectives, like in a computer game? See himself from outside, like other people saw him ... Well, it wasn't possibly. The only thing he could work with here was the mirror. Hopefully, there were not too many other guys around, washing their hands ...

He had just entered the room and almost closed the door behind him, when someone else pushed that door open again. Chris stepped back. The intruder was a young guy, which was a little surprising. They looked each other in the eyes for a moment.

"Nice colour", Yannik said.

"What?"

"The green."

"Uhm ... oh, yeah."

Why is this guy talking to me? Was this real? Chris was unable to hide his confusion. Middle-aged gays were one thing. But this ... A stranger commenting on his boxer-briefs. He had no idea where this was leading to.

I can't make up my mind. On the hand, I think the sag is too low, on the other hand, how can it be wrong if it looks so hot?  

Part 1

Libiamo, amor fra i calici

Più caldi baci avrà

the tenor sang, while Chris was rubbing his right ass cheek through the soft fabric of his boxer-briefs and calculated how long it would take until the break. An hour, probably. The opera – La Traviata - had barely begun ...

La Traviata – sounds like the name of a pizza place, Chris thought. Or maybe a cheap brand of prepackaged Italian food ...

The deal with his dad was simple: Chris had agreed to accompany his father to three performances this year (his parents owned season tickets), but only if he could go to the opera in whatever clothes he liked. His dad was fine with that. In fact, he was fine with pretty much everything. He was a psychology professor. A scientist who liked to observe and study behaviour more than judge it. 

Chris often felt like one of his dad's research projects. Case study of a teenage boy. The more he acted out, the more interesting it got for his dad, probably.

This kind of parenting could be annoying as hell, but it had its advantages, too ... And there was still his mom (a dentist), who actuallly believed in rules. And there were lots of other people in the world who could be pissed off. Or who could be used to get attention.

Attention was his fuel, Chris needed it regularly. When he was in primary school, he had rehearsed comic faces in front of the mirror for months. Later, he had changed the strategy. Girls didn't like boys who acted childishly, so he had perfected the art of understatement. It was all about pretending not to care. (It helped that he really didn't care about lots of things.)

Some things however were important to him, even to the point of obsession. At the beginning of puberty, he had become obsessed with fashion and with his apperance in general, even more than before. He emulated the skater style, which was the cool thing to do. The one thing that really worked for him was sagging. He started it when he was 11. At first it was a little weird, but soon, he couldn't imagine wearing his jeans any other way. Sagging just felt so right.

His boxers were visible now pretty much all of the time. Chris loved it when he noticed people staring at his underwear. Some girls hated it. And some boys were annoyed, too. Showing off undies seemed indecent too them. "You think you're so cool", they complained - which seemed to Chris just like a way of saying how much they envied him.

Some of the cooler, more mature and self-assured girls, however, seemed to like the sagging. They even commented on his boxers in public. There was a group of three boys and four girls who liked to hang out together at school. After a while, his underwear became a regular topic of conversation among them. Chris enjoyed that so much that he almost lost his cool.

He had adopted the skinny jeans style very early. It was just so perfect for sagging. A year ago, Chris he had been one of the first boys who had switched (mostly) from boxers to boxer-briefs. Some boys argued that tight underwear looked gay. But nobody really thought that Chris was a ******. He had already had two girlfriends. So, he could pull it off ...

Right now, Chris was wearing green boxerbriefs and sagging grey skinny jeans below his bum. He did this at school, all the time – but the contrast with the formal attire of people all around him made it much more fun at the opera house.

His sag was mostly hidden, now. But that would change during the break The 20 minutes in the middle of the performance were worth enduring five acts of cheesy drama and classical whining.

***

Finally, he was standing at a cocktail table with his dad, who was sipping a glass of white wine.

"How did you like it?"

"Dunno." Chris shrugged, determined to sound bored.

"I know, I know, you can't admit that you enjoyed it. That would be uncool."

The conversation never got much further, as Chris's dad was recognized by a man who seemed to be a colleague.

Chris turned his head around and scanned the room. Someone stared right at him. A well-dressed, middle-aged man with fashionable glasses. Opera houses were magnets for gays, of course. Yeah, Chris thought, you would like to f*** me, wouldn't you? That kind of attention didn't bother him. Why be annoyed by something that made him feel so superior? You wish you were me. But you are old, bald and ugly, I'm a teenage hottie. He stared back, still looking bored, but sagging like crazy and ever-so-slightly smiling.

I discovered these posts only now, a bit too late, since I tried not to think about this story anymore. I think the criticism is valid. There should have been more chapters to give the story a proper ending, but I really wasn't able to write them.

I'm not sure about the importance of a plan. It might be more important when you're writing a script, but I think you might have more freedom in fiction.

@Sctwo It's interesting that you were convinced so early that the club wasn't real, because at that point I myself still thought that it existed. ;- ) The only problem was that I had to end the story and this seemed only possible if the whole thing turned out to be an illusion.

@CosmoBoy: Of course, I'm looking forward to your script and film if it gets made. I hope it has one or more saggers in it. ;-)

I'm not listening to this right now, but there is a music festival in the town where I live and I heard an amazing band from China there yesterday. Their English name is "Second-hand rose". The Chinese name is Er Shou Mei Gui. You can find them on Facebook or Youtube. I think if they sang in English, they would be superstars. Their performance on stage was incredible.

These things are weird in the sense that they're not what most people do. But they're not weird in the sense that they are inferior or immoral.

It's always hard or maybe impossible to "understand" why other people like different things. If you don't like spinach, you'll never "get" why other people eat it. There is no rational sense to it. Spinach tastes different to every person (the taste is in the brain really and each brain is unique). So there isn't much that you can argue about. It's the same with sexual preferences. The only things that "make sense" are the ones that you yourself like. (I'm sorry if that was confusing. I'm doing my best.)

The problem might be that some of these "weird" sexual preferences evoke disgust in some people. If you're disgusted, you feel the need to distance yourself from such acts. But I think we should all try to be as tolerant and open-minded as possible. It's okay if nobody gets harmed, as mrcl has said.

Well, my explanations would be:

1. Usually, people get aroused by the sight of a naked body. But some can get aroused by other objects as well; that's called a fetish. It can be any object, really, but in most cases it has some special significance (attractive people wear it or own it or something like that). So, the object is a substitute for the body, and just like you cum in the body during sex, you cum in/on the the thing instead.

2. Peeing yourself is taboo (for people over 3 years of age), so you get the thrill of doing something that is forbidden. The rest ist probably about humiliating yourself. Some people get pleasure out of that. It's hard to explain why exactly. It is related to masochism, which we all experience sometimes when we get pleasure from eating spicy food.

3. Showering makes your clothes wet and cling to the body. That can feel nice. Humiliation and the thrill of irrational behaviour might also play a role for some people.

Masturbation: Sooner or later, everyone gets sexual urges, and by then, the whole thing will no longer seem odd, but self-explanatory. I'm pretty sure about that.

I don't really get the outrage about Fabik's post. Such lists of pros and cons are probably something that many people have made at some point in their lives, at least in their mind. The point is not to choose the best side; that's usually impossible. The point is self-justification and that's something everyone of us needs badly and constantly.

I can see, too, that Fabik's original list was full of stereotypes, but this topic is not stupid. There is a real problem to be discussed: how to be okay with yourself, Cosmo's solution is certainly the best: find a boyfriend and be happy. Happiness is hard to argue with. But there is also the danger in this that somehow you're not right if you have been lonely for years. There are quite a few good-looking and overall great gay boys who have lots of trouble finding a boyfriend.

So, my answer to all this would be:

It's okay to be gay and it's okay to be straight - no matter what any man, beast or list says.

I should take a walk at 4 AM more often Who knows what I'll find?

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Thanks! All the praise is going to spoil me, I'm afraid. I really should encourage people to criticize more.

No, I haven't been abroad much. I've read many English books and I really like some American TV shows. I also use a dictionary, of course, whenever I write.

No, there isn't. I could translate the story into German myself, but I'm not motivated to do that at the moment. Most Germans or Austrians on the site speak English well enough I guess.