I awoke the next morning with my little cock stiff. Automatically I took it in my hand and began to stroke it when I found my mind drawn back to the previous day in the Gent’s Toilets in the park. The smell of piss and sweat. The dim light. The man, his mouth wrapped around my little cock, and then later his spunk shooting out, covering me. The memory made me so horny as my hand shuffled up and down my cock. And then in an instant the shame hit me. With difficulty I stopped masturbating, my horniness turned to shame as I remembered my promise to myself to never return there, to not think of it. With an effort, I got up, my hardness a reminder that perhaps I hadn’t forgotten as I consoled myself with the thought that somehow he’d made me do it so it wasn’t my fault – I was after all only just 13.
My parents had already left for work. I ate breakfast and then wasted time as you do when you’re young. By 4 that afternoon I was back with my friends in the park: I steered us away from the toilets. Instead we were sitting on the top of the far hill, taking turns on a rope swing in a tree over a particularly steep slope. By 5, another friend arrived, accompanied by a half bottle of whiskey he’d lifted from his parent’s drinks cabinet. To our young uneducated palates it tasted foul although none of us cared to admit it. I’d taken several long pulls on the small bottle, determined to prove myself in front of my friends: it was all I could do not to retch on the stuff!
By 7, I realised I was quite drunk and there were just 2 of us left as everyone else had drifted off, and my companion had to leave as well. I assured him I’d be find and would go home soon, and then it was just me. My head was swimming and as I stood I could feel I was unsteady on my feet. I also needed a piss really badly: normally I’d have just taken one in the woods, but instead – and despite my promise to never visit the toilets again – I set off stumbling slightly towards the Gentlemen’s toilets in the corner of the park. I told myself I was just going for a piss, that was all, there was nothing wrong with it and yesterday I had just been unlucky and that despite cuming twice I hadn’t enjoyed it and therefore wasn’t ‘gay’. I giggled as I looked down and saw my little 4″ cock tenting my football shorts and drunkenly knew I was lying to myself even as another part of my mind was trying to tell me it was just because I needed to piss.
I reached the toilet block and walked quietly in. The smell which had played in my mind that morning struck my nostrils as I negotiated the dog leg entrance and as I rounded the last corner my eyes strained in the gloom. I was both relieved and disappointed to find it empty, the urinals vacant, the cubicle door at the far end wide open. In my mind I had expected a replay of the previous evening and found myself at a loss as to what to do or where to go. My indecision was swiftly cured by the sound of footsteps outside and I quickly walked into the cubicle. As I closed the door behind me, the footsteps came around the corner and I caught a glimpse of the same man from last night. I hesitated in closing the door as he smiled at me and said hello, crossing the toilet quickly before pushing the cubicle door open, walking in and then closing it behind us leaving us standing facing each other.
He was wearing a vest top, shorts and running shoes. I suppose he was late 30s or 40s although I couldn’t really guess – it was all old to a bare teenager. Sandy hair receding slightly on top, in fairly good shape with a bit of a belly and standing about 5’7″ to my 5′. His shorts were distended by the shape of his obviously erect penis pushing it outwards, putting my own modest bulge to shame.
“Are you very drunk?”, he asked, “I watched you walk to the toilets and you were all over the place”
It never occured to me that he had been observing me for some time, and I simply slurred to him that I was, my confession interspersed with giggles as I explained. He asked what my parents would say when I got home, and I told him they wouldn’t be home until 10 and that I’d pretend to be asleep.
“Come on”, he said, “Come back to mine and I’ll make you some coffee to sober you up, it’s what adults do”, and without further ado he took me by the hand and lead me towards the doorway, stopping at the entrance to survey the silent street. I felt powerless to stop him as, still holding my hand, he lead me to the road before making me stop and check for traffic. My cheeks burned with shame as I stood there looking both ways, my little cock straining my shorts every bit as much as his still obvious erection did his. What if my friends saw? They’d be bound to know! What if anyone I knew came by? We crossed the road, unseen by anyone else, and entered the thin strip of woods opposite that concealed a new block of flats from the road, the 3 storey building glaringly white against the background of dark trees. He lead me across the small communal garden to an open patio door, leading me inside as he explained it was his flat: sitting me down on the couch as he went to put the kettle on.
He returned to the room, crossing to the patio door and closing it before pulling the curtains, the room instantly as dim as the Gents we’d just left. Kicking his shoes off, he turned to me and said, “I don’t normally wear clothes at home, you don’t mind, do you?”, his shirt already over his head as the last words left his mouth.
“You don’t have to either”, he said, “Here, let me help you” as he reached down and pulled my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor before I could muster an objection.
“And let me help you with those”, he continued as he reached down and pulled my shorts off, knocking off my shoes as he pulled them free of my feet. My little cock bounced up against my stomach, the head a dark red against my lighter foreskin as I felt harder than I’d every felt before, my face burning with the shame of being made to do this. He stood before me, his seemingly enormous cock bouncing stiffly before me, my eyes drawn to it. It was over 6″ long, probably 7″ but quite thin, his helmet as red as mine and gleaming wetly above his drawn foreskin. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, and when he asked if I liked it I could only nod dumbly.
“You can touch it if you like”, he whispered and I raised my hand slowly, stopping halfway there. “Go on”, he said and I slowly rubbed my fingertips along it. He groaned, thrusting his hips towards me, his cock just inches from my face as I closed my hand around it. Unsure what to do other than to rub him as I rubbed myself, wanking him, slowly at first as he thrust into my motion, moving closer all the time, his cock ever closer to my face. Before I knew it, I could feel it against my face as I masturbated him, on my lips and cheeks, the warm wetness of his precum trailing across my nose, cheeks, forehead, chin. I knew he’d sucked me yesterday, and perhaps it was the alcohol I’d consumed which won out over my shame but without thinking I opened my mouth taking the tip of his penis in as he groaned. Taking me by surprise, he thrust quickly, my mouth suddenly filled with his cock. I coughed as he hit the back of my throat, my hands moving to his waist as it moved backwards and forwards, his cock fucking my mouth in a slow yet slightly jerky fashion. His hands gripped my head, controlling the speed as I savoured this new sensation: the taste of his cock, meaty, slightly sweaty, a vague taste of piss and something else that tasted similar to my own cum. My tongue explored his head, his foreskin, his shaft as his cock worked my mouth and then – suddenly – he stopped and withdrawing his cock looked down at the disappointment on my face.
“Come with me”, he said as he removed one of my hands from his waist and pulled me upright before propelling me down the corridor and into a bedroom. He picked my small frame up with ease before dropping me onto the bed: I giggled as I laid there, my legs spread, my naked body on display as my 4″ erection stood stiffly upwards. He climbed between my legs, squirting something into his hand from a small bottle before his mouth engulfed my hairless little hard on. I felt his hands on my thighs and then massaging my tight little balls, his touch wet before I felt his finger on my little rosebud of an arsehole. I gasped in surprise as nobody had ever touched me there before. His finger lingered before slowly easing its way in. I hissed slightly, the intrusion surprising, slightly painful but not unpleasant, my cock sliding further into his mouth as I raised my hips to escape this sudden intrusion until suddenly my sphincter relaxed allowing more of his finger to slide in. I realised it felt quite pleasing despite the lingering pain. I moaned, my arse pushing down onto the hand it had been trying to escape as I felt a second finger probe me. It took several more thrusts of my cock into his mouth before that too slipped in. I felt stretched, full. I moaned, my hands on his head, forcing his head down only my penis, and in turn driving myself down onto his fingers as his tongue circled my little cock.
He stopped suddenly, sitting himself up on his heels between my outstretched legs, my knees raised, my feet drawn up, exposed completely to him. He moved closer, his hard cock bobbing as it moved between my legs before he rubbed it on my own hard cock. grinding himself on to me. I moaned again as with one hand he picked up the bottle he’d discarded earlier. The smell of baby oil assaulted my nose as he poured it over our cocks. I could feel its oily wetness as it ran down over my balls and down my arse. The feeling of our slick cocks together was wonderful and I began to hump upwards into him, my breathing fast but he drew slightly back and before I knew what he was doing I felt his cock against my arse. The slickness of the baby oil and his earlier fingering of my virgin hole had clearly had an effect and with little effort on his part or pain on mine I felt the head slide in with a soft plop. He pushed my knees back onto the bed as I gripped the sheets with my outspread hands, a muffled ‘nnngghhh’ escaping my clenched teeth as I felt him push further in. I was about to protest I couldn’t take any more of him when he eased off, drawing back. I breathed a sigh of relief before I felt him push in hard. I cried out in pain and surpise but he leant forwards above me, his hands holding my wrists to the bed and preventing me from pushing him off, pinning me helplessly underneath him. He continued to force his cock into my tender arse, withdrawing before ramming it home again, a little more sliding in each time. The pain was almost unbearable, but there was something else too: my cock was still standing up like a little nail, leaking my own watery 13 year old precum. And then with a final push, I felt his pelvis against mine, his balls slapping against my arse cheeks as he finally succeeded in ramming his 7″ fully into me. He towered above me, his cock fully inside, filling me up, waiting as my tender arsehole got used to his cock and then, as he felt me relax he began to pump in and out of me, slowly, gently. He shifted his position and I could feel his cock inside me, behind my own as I began once again to match his movement.
I felt full. I groaned. I moaned. I gasped. He slowly sped up, fucking my childish body as my hips bucked into his strokes, my hard little spike bobbing as I looked down, watching his huge cock disappear inside me. Until, suddenly, I realised I was about to cum. A long groan escaped my lips as I pushed upwards frantically against him. I could feel my arse twitch around his cock as my muscles tightened, the spasms beginning deep in my balls before I erupted like I never had before and without even touching myself. The first spurt hit me in the face, the second on my chin before several more spattered my adolescent seed across my chest, my arse clamping down on his cock. I felt him push deeper into me and heard his moan as I felt his cock jerk inside me as my arse was filled with spunk for the first time. I could feel his warm wetness as it emptied inside my bowels, his spurts matching mine and then continuing after I had emptied my little sack, forcing himself ever deeper inside me. I wrapped my legs around his middle, pulling him onto me as we came together until finally we were both spent and he relaxed onto me with a sigh. His cock slowly softened and I loved the feeling as it came out, the wetness from inside me following it, running unchecked out of my arsehole and down the crack, pooling in the bed beneath us.
Eventually we got up, and he helped me make myself decent. He filled me with coffee – and got me into the shower where, giggling, I remembered my earlier need to piss. Amongst the other things I learned that day is the fun of pissing on someone and being pissed on – as shower is a good place to learn!
I met him many times after that. He taught me more about sex and pleasing myself and others than anybody else. He introduced me to friends of his, some of whom had their own young friends like me and we all played together, got drunk together, smoked cigarettes and weed together and had sex together. Sometimes men, sometimes women, sometimes both, sometimes boys and girls too. Occasionally a wild party elsewhere, alcohol and drugs swiftly becoming an orgy.
And that is the story of the Gentlemen’s Toilet and my second experience which lead on to so much more. On the whole I enjoyed it although it had its dark moments. I was photographed, filmed, recorded but I was young enough to not care. I suppose the video is still out there on the internet somewhere – the internet didn’t exist when this happened, and we none of us could have dreamed of such a thing. By the time I was 16, I’d slept with over 150 people between the ages of 10 and 70 and then I just somehow grew out of it.
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