A few times in the locker room, friend walking by, reaches out. . . that kind of stuff. . .
Most memorable experience was in a leather bar on a Sunday afternoon. I was there with a couple gay friends from the gym. There was an older, grossly obese "queen" in a ratty mumu with ratty grizzled hair and a scraggly salt-and-pepper beard, camping it up all over the place, vamping any cute he could get his hands on. I'm 6'3", well-built and hairy-chested; I was wearing loose exercise shorts (commando), open shirt exposing my muscular physique and chest hair. Being obviously straight and already the center of attention in my group, it wasn't long before he got around to me. He did his routine on me -- embarrassing, yet can't say I didn't enjoy it in a narcissistic sort of way -- then reached into my shorts, groping my junk, locating my small nub, then turned to the crowd, proclaiming, "Heck, I had more when I was ten!" Pinky sign, drawing a big laugh. Didn't stop me getting hit on a lot afterwards.
Yeah, it was kind of embarrassing, I know I blushed beet red, face burning, but took it in good humor; admit to loving all the attention. Deep down I'm shallow.