It took a few months and a lot of wanking before I had the unshakeable urge to go forth into the dark interiors of a public toilet to look for sex.
I got really fit because I started running twice a day. Each day, I'd jog past the toilet block with the intention of going inside, and each day I'd watch it with longing, but kept a steel resolve that I couldn't go inside.
Then, one fine mid-spring morning, a light breeze blew that resolve away.
Not too many people were out and about that morning, and I genuinely needed to pee, but I also had an itch that I could not scratch that had persisted for days.
The toilet loomed above me as I reached it, with the entry being dark and revealing nothing. While outside in the sun it was warm, the inside was cold and dark.
There weren't any lights on, but then I assumed they were programmed to go off when the sun rose, which it had, just not enough to light the toilets enough.
I was the only person in the toilet, which was disappointing.
Emboldened, because I was alone, I used the urinals. When I finished, I checked both cubicles and was disappointed to confirm they were unoccupied, so I took a few minutes to read some of the graffiti on the walls and on the door.
It turns out that quite a few guys had come to this toilet when no one was about too, and they'd made their presence known by writing dates and times when they'd revisit.
"To the jogger in blue shorts here on Wednesday early morning, that was fun! Let's do it again!" wrote one guy, and he scribbled that he'd be there at the same time every week. I made a mental note to try and come on a Wednesday.
My dick protested against my underpants when I read that, as I imagined what those two had gotten up to for the guy to have taken the time to write about it on the wall.
I wanked alone. Not quite what I'd hoped for, but better than sitting at home in my office chair watching a variety of the same porn.
Wednesday morning, I returned.
As soon as I walked inside, I saw a young jogger at the urinal who turned to look at me.
Nervous, uncertain how these things generally worked, I moved to the cubicles, but as I did, I saw the reflection of the lad's cock in the polished urinal.
He wasn't pissing and even though he looked away from me, I had a sense he was waiting.
I cannot tell you where my confidence came from, but I surprised myself and detoured and moved to the urinal.
When I pulled my shorts and undies down, I sort of hid my dick with my right hand and tried to look out of the corner of my eye.
He was subtly watching me, and I thought I saw his hand moving a little.
Seconds passed, and I felt the blood surge to my ears while my legs urged me to run away.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to see that while he'd also subtly hidden his cock, I could also see he was hard and gently stroking it. I guess the motion could be mistaken as innocent unless you were looking for it.
My hand slowly mimicked his action and stroked my dick as it got hard, which I think took less than two seconds, and then it was difficult to hide. I'm not saying I'm huge, I'm just saying that it's not easy to hide a rock-hard cock at a urinal with a highly reflective surface.
He turned slightly towards me and revealed a fat, long, lightly tanned cut cock with neatly trimmed balls.
Wow. A groomer. I'd seen plenty of these types in porn.
Strengthened by his open wanking, I did the same. Feeling a little more confident, we took the time to scan each other better.
He was in his early 20s, fit; possibly part Asian, part English, it was difficult to tell, but his dick was decent-sized and I'm sure he had a queue of women, and probably men too, who thought he was really handsome.
It was clear that he thought as highly of my cock as I did of his, because with a quick glance towards the door, he shifted over and reached his hand out.
Yes, my auto-response was to turn away, which I had to fight, so I turned towards him a little more instead. My eyes scanned the doorway, and my ears strained to listen carefully.
Luckily, that early in the morning there was hardly anyone around, and we could probably hear someone approaching from a distance.
His hand reached out and grabbed my cock, and it felt good.
Really good actually. It was warm, and he gently began to stroke my dick.
Again, I checked the doorway, keeping my senses alert.
I realised that I wanted to touch his too.
