All of the images below came from the great blog Streaker Lads, devoted to blokes dashing about starkers in public.
I went streaking through our village when I was seventeen with a passel of other lads, nearly all of whom were outrageously drunk. They were on the track team with me, and I had been invited along on one of their camping sleepovers. Once the liquor was flowing -- stolen from someone's father -- and the clothes came off, they were quite uninhibited although nothing overtly gay happened.
One big strapping bloke who threw shotput injured his foot whilst dashing about, so his mate and I helped him back to where we were camping. He was pissed out of his skull and hanging all over me and his friend, completely naked as he hobbled back for first aid. He, of course, had no idea my fantasies he would fuel by doing this. I can still remember his cock flapping and rubbing against my thigh whilst I helped him walk. It's a miracle I didn't end up with a raging erection.
Streaking
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