Guys Share Their Most Awkward Boner Moments, Reader Edition

Here’s to oversharing.

Yesterday we asked you to let us know about your most embarrassing experience with unintended wood, and we’re pleased that so many of your didn’t have a problem revisiting a more, shall we say, biologically reflexive time in your lives.

Here are the highlights:

Scribe38’s hard wiring:

10th grade, electronics class, I used to dress myself to the right so this guy Chris could see my boner. He would look at it and I would watch him until he got one, too. We would be in the very back of the class. Of course, a teacher noticed my activity as I as making it bounce in my jeans and smiling like an idiot. Most awkward conversation with a teacher after class ever!

Ladbrook’s Bard-on:

Junior year of college… 9 a.m. Shakespeare class (MWF). Without fail, my dick would go full-wood about 10 minutes before the end of class… for reasons that I still can’t explain. Leaving that classroom everyday wasn’t just uncomfortable but often quite embarrassing as well.

Desert Boy’s ticket to the mile-high club:

Dozed off on a flight, aisle seat, massive hard-on and I was awakened to cute flight attendant asking me if I wanted anything, his eyes on the prize, him smiling ear to ear.

GG’s modern dilemma:

Right now.

rickyboi7’s daily commute:

Almost daily during junior high, the morning ride to school on the bus, all that bumping around, would give me a massive hard on. Thankfully, I usually had some books to hold in front, but I know it still looked like I was hiding a big ol’ boner.

Merv’s underwhelming display:

Sadly, I don’t think anybody would be able to tell, even if I was wearing spandex.

SteveDenver’s musky fumes:

I worked as a valet at a nightclub and Halloween week was forecast to be warm (50s) and no snow, so a couple of guys volunteered to round up “gear” from their sports team — I somehow missed that it was wrestling. I got a gold singlet that smelled like clean hot musk (yes, I did give the crotch a long sniff as I was dressing). All night long random whiffs of the guy who wore it before me would hit and I’d pop a ridge. The manager said, “Don’t worry about it. If someone mentions it, just say, ‘Thanks, I grew it myself,’ and keep working.” One of the guys was a “leaker,” so I didn’t worry so much.