When It Came Through the Door

Some itches just can't be scratched that easily.

My mind is always in turmoil at the lie I've chosen to live. It's like somewhere along the way, my life splintered in two directions, side-by-side, that I controlled simultaneously.

The weeks went on, and I resisted the temptation to visit that little hidden away toilet block that would conveniently sate such an itch.

But then the impossible happened.

Vivek, and Marianne decided we should enjoy the early summer with a barbeque in the sun.

At my local park.

At the barbecue facilities right next to that toilet block.

We went of course, and I had my back to it the entire time, though we drank a heap of beer, ate too much food, and made memories, I never once wasn't aware that it was right behind me.

And of course, after a few beers, I'd shifted so I was facing the building.

Several times between bouts of natural laughter, I'd spot a car drive into the carpark, a lone figure would get out and go to the toilet, looking around suspiciously. This happened a few times, and not just from the cars either, but from cyclists coming off the cycle path or joggers coming from the walkway.

Always out of the corner of my eye, I'd seen them look about themselves suspiciously, before entering the toilet.

We all used the toilet a few times of course, and when I went, there was not much to be seen and no new graffiti begging for someone to make a date.

A few drinks in, and we lazed about and drank, nibbling on the leftovers, and enjoying the company and the alcohol.

I watched Vivek run off to the loo, and carried on my chat, losing track of time, but always keenly aware of the 'goings on' in that toilet block.

Vivek was gone too long for a simple wee, and not probably even for a number two, but what he did when he came out of the toilet made me really think twice what I knew about him.

In the few experiences I have had with guys exiting a toilet, in which they've misbehaved, they seem to overly shake imaginary excess water off their hands.

Vivek came out of the toilet shaking his hands in this manner, far too many times, as he walked back towards us.

I did my best to ignore it, but could not ignore the man who left the block looking after him, who jumped in his car and sped off.

Vivek and his wife left shortly afterwards, and our group was a bit smaller.

I needed to go piss again.

And that's how I found myself, getting blown at a urinal, while my wife's laughter filled the air meters away from where we were.

As soon as I walked into the urinal, I saw a guy who I recognised. He was the guy who'd walked in that Wednesday morning after I'd met the jogger.

This guy was brazen; wanking at the urinal with a big cheeky grin on his face, like he knew I was up for it.

I stood at the urinal, and urinated. "I don't have time, sorry."

"We can be quick..." he whispered, with a wink towards the door, "Give me your load." He insisted.

I looked away, because I needed to finish what I was doing and not get distracted by him, but also to force myself to remember that this wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

"I can't..." I said, giving my fella a big shake.

"Come on..." he was right in front of me, and his hand was instantly on my dick, grabbing it really tight.

His hand was so warm, and so big, while his eyes begged me to let him.

I was really trapped because my dick went hard so quickly and I became conscious that it would take a while to lose the hard-on.

My pause had apparently been the moment he'd been looking for. Before I could stop him, he bobbed down and in under one second, I discovered his mouth, and his throat were hot, tight and set to make me jizz in record time.

"Fuck!" I whispered, looking towards the door with panic.

My wife's laughter came again, and also that of my friends.

He looked up at me. Big brown eyes, on a rugged middle-aged face. A man who probably had as much to lose as I did, and enjoyed this side of himself as I did. His eyes, still smiling, needing to see my enjoyment and to know that he was serving me well.

He deep-throated my dick like someone who had done so a few times before. I heard him choke on it, and almost gag, but he sucked in deeper past it.

His mouth was really hot, and soft, and his throat so deep. I could feel his tongue swirl around my dick with expertise.

It built up so quickly. But of course I'd been so horny, and to be surprised like that, and so unexpectedly by an expert mouth.

His mouth slid onto my dick, nice and deep, and I sucked in a big breath, as quietly as I could, because I was on the precipice, and I think he could tell.

A noise to my right startled me, but I realised it was someone in the cubicle too late.

Shit. I hadn't thought of that.

But I was too close, and nobody was an immediate threat from the entrance.

We needed to do this right then.

"Farrrrrrrrrk," I said with gritted teeth, and probably not that quietly, and grabbed this guy's head, because I was coming in for a landing, and he wasn't slowing down. I get it, he was hungry, but while already I nutted, and he was still trying to build me up.

Ease off pal.

As I blew my load into his throat, and felt my balls slap his chin, he upturned his face and pulled my dick out slowly. I could see his mouth was filled with it, as well as his tongue.

Happy, with a big smile, he swallowed like a good puppy and used a finger to make sure none of it was spilled.

The way he kneeled there by the urinal; you'd think it was him who'd just blown a gallon of his load.

I was done, and gave him an awkward smile, but ran for the sink, where I gave my hands a quick wash, and hurried out of the toilet, careful not to continue the suspicious tradition of shaking excess water.

Nobody noticed I'd been gone long at all. And I was the only one who noticed the tiny jizz droplet on my light-grey shorts as I sat down and picked up my drink, while my wife patted my leg and continued our conversation, I put my beer bottle on it, so the dew would seep through.

And watched Jackson come out of the toilet block, smiling in my direction.

Fuck. He must have been watching me from the toilet cubicles.

For days I kicked myself for having deleted his number, but my knee-jerk reaction to anything confronting, was traditionally to run or hide from it. Hence it had taken so long for me to even begin to experiment with this 'side' of myself.

But it turned out that luck would be on my side. Or perhaps it was due to the fact that I started frequenting the toilet nearly on a daily basis, that the odds were on my side. Either way, I saw Jackson just a few days later, casually strolling into the toilet, looking comfortable and relaxed.

I admired that he was so relaxed and so calm, given he was walking into a public toilet looking for sex.

Nothing might happen. But more likely, something would happen. And that's what kept me from casually strolling into the toilet, like I owned the place.

As though he'd been expecting me, with a cheeky smirk, legs apart at the urinal, zipper undone, dick out and semi-hard.

That was quick. I'd literally walked in less than ten seconds behind him.

The cubicles were empty, but it was later in the morning and there was traffic outside. Joggers, cyclists, pedestrians, and drivers all rushing past, making it difficult to focus on the internal sounds and whether we'd be safe from any walk-ins.

Even as my heart jack-hammered in my chest, and my legs trembled, I watched Jackson as I slowly walked towards him.

His eyes flicked between my crotch, my face, and the door.

The next time he settled on my face, he nodded in greeting, then back to my crotch, with that perpetual smirk, as though curious as to why I hadn't released my cock yet.

I looked behind me at the door, and it did seem quiet and safe enough, so with one hand I pulled down my shorts, and the other I held out my cock.

He smelled fresh and clean down there when I got close enough. That delicious smell of clean underpants when a cock and balls have been resting inside that warm space.

I savoured it, then looked at Jackson, knowing I should be apologetic, but also happy he seemed not to care too much.

With our dicks out between us, and as we both looked down, I felt his hand come up behind my neck and pull me in. My head nestled alongside his, and I felt his hot breath next to me, even as his hand reached out and gripped my dick gently, and lightly stroked it.

Then he turned his face and pushed his lips into mine, in a way that was far too intimate for the situation.

But I let him. Probably because I felt bad for deleting his number, and possibly because I thought he was a really sexy guy.

He was all the things I admired in my own friends, level-headed, confident, and approachable. Hence, he made the first move, which I would never do.

Even if someone came in and disturbed us in the toilet, I could almost imagine Jackson facing them off and demanding, "What are you staring at?"

I kissed him back.

His dick pushed against my belly and rubbed against mine, with our shorts around our thighs, at the urinal and hands behind each other pulling us into a tight embrace.

This was too dangerous, and I tried to break the kiss and look towards the door, but his assertive hand would appear and move my face back to him, and with an intensity in his eyes that reassured me not to worry, his fleshy lips would melt onto mine and I'd get lost in the kiss again.

We kissed like we'd been doing it a very long time, with a familiarity that was comfortable and intimate, but also with an exploration that was exciting and new.

As he pushed his tongue, deep and passionately into my mouth, and our hands pushed the back of each other's heads, deepening each other's kiss, and as I felt his dick gyrate against my belly and press against my cock, I felt the urge to nut.

I gently pulled my dick away for a second, and he looked down, then towards the door, and dropped to his knees. As he did so, he took my dick with one hand, and opened his mouth and readied to swallow it.

He looked up at me then, as he gently put my cock's head on the tip of his tongue, and gently, slowly, pushed his mouth down into an 'o'. He squeezed his mouth shut and sucked my dick while he swallowed along the shaft towards my balls.

Holy fuck.

I'd forgotten how silky smooth his tongue and his throat were, as my dick slid nicely along, enjoying the warmth within.

I liked when he looked up at me, his eyes letting me know that each time my entire dick slid through his mouth and into his throat, that he was satisfied. And the moans he made too, and the gagging as he pushed his own limits to allow it to penetrate as far as it could, with even my balls trying to find a way to enter his mouth and get as much of me in there.

Again, like a noob, I could feel the urge to nut, so I put my hand on his head.

He mistook that as my willingness to jizz, and braced himself, and adjusted himself to ready for the incoming.

I'd meant I wanted to suck his dick, but it was too late.

He looked up at me one more time, as my dick slid all the way down into his throat, as the urge became a compulsion, and then that tipping point.

"Argh..." I started, as my semen erupted into his mouth and straight down his throat. He pulled my dick out a bit so he could suck it better, and that intensity made me buck backwards, but he wasn't letting me get away, with a gargle and a moan, both his hands pulled me in so my dick stayed in his mouth.

I blew so much, that it felt like small rivers kept emptying into him. Load after load.

Spent, leaning against him, I felt his hands support my legs, as though they could sense I'd collapse without it.

This made me smile.

I was done, and I felt guilty. I knew that I'd run away again and leave him dry, but that's what happened when you let the other guy blow first.

I'd assumed this was normal and accepted.

But Jackson surprised me once more when he came up and pushed his jizz-laden tongue onto my mouth and kissed me, while he wanked next to me.

I didn't want to be rude, so I let it happen, but the moment for me had definitely passed.

It took him less than a minute, and so I didn't have to do much, before his body convulsed and tensed, and he groaned quietly, and Jackson shot his load across the toilet floor.

He nutted so much that I worried someone would come in while he was still showering the floor with his sticky juice.

But he finished, and patted me on the behind, as we both quickly zipped up and adjusted ourselves.

"We should do that in bed sometime," he said, as he headed to a tap on one side of the door.

I moved to the other faucet, and gave my hands a quick rinse and shook them, careful not to exit the toilet doing that very thing I considered suspicious.

As he meant to leave the toilet, he said, "Message me," and added a cheesy wink, which I liked.

As he walked out ahead of me, I kicked myself for having deleted his number and for not having the courage to tell him.