Mens Relief

Craig had had a particularly gruelling day: a late start caused by traffic jams, check-in issues and delays taking off. Sometimes he felt that life was just a series of bottlenecks that built up and eased off, that it was nothing more than that. You did your best but still managed to get snared in life's little gridlocks. Today felt like that despite all the best intentions of the previous day and planning.

Now he gathered his luggage, thankfully all present and correct and, having negotiated passport control felt at last as if there was light at the end of the tunnel. He just needed to visit the men's room which, after, following a number of unclear signs found to be shut. No problem though. He knew of one that existed on the lower levels of the parking station as he had noticed it upon arrival. What was it about it that had caught his attention though, he wondered. Who cares... if it was out of bounds he would be able to wait, get away from this godforsaken airport. He found a lift and descended.

He emerged into the quiet grey gloom of the lowest level of the car park, it's lightly dank air a pleasant relief after the hustle and confusion of the terminal. He found his car and unloaded his luggage into the boot, another small luxury. He turned and scanned the deserted space, rubbing his hands, then located the doorway he had noticed when he had originally arrived, a small male symbol above. It was located near a stairwell, a dim lamp above. Nearing it, however, he noticed that there was an 'R' after the symbol. It did not register with him and he decided to ignore it, just try the door handle, which was unlocked. He went inside.

He approached a urinal and thought he heard some muffled sound and movement behind the walls. Ignoring it, he unzipped his fly and took out his penis in readiness. At this stage a man's voice softly intoned to him from his right, which he had assumed was a toilet cubical.

'Before you proceed, would you like to do it in more comfortable circumstances? The letter R stands for "Relief" '

Craig was slightly taken aback but strangely curious. Perhaps it was the stressy day receding as he was verging on the apathetic now and was really just anticipating a quiet night in with a bottle of wine and the TV. An early night. He shrugged. The man was about 70, bald, and in a casual dark suit, smiling gently.

'Come this way.'

Craig put his semi-flaccid penis away and zipped up. He followed the man down a short tiled corridor and around the corner. Anything may have happened to him but he was determined to simply go with the flow. The muffled sounds became more apparent: they were soft groans of female pleasure. He was standing in a dimly lit alcove and could discern the soft tinkling sounds of water in pipes around him. The man gestured for him to move forward towards a part of a curved wall. There were two openings in front of him, one above the other. At eye height was a rectangular window. Below it, at groin height, was a pear-shaped opening in the wall. The shape was familiar. Then it struck him: it was a urinal. He stepped towards it as the man exited out of sight. Craig unzipped his fly and he leaned forward to look through the small window.

Two women were on hands and knees in a dark, obviously circular space. They were facing points away from him, both occupied, heads bobbing steadily. One was blonde, one brunette, long hair cascading wetly down their backs. They both wore tiny g-strings (the brunette a string of pearls) and strappy high heels and both seemed oiled down, slick with liquid, a liquid which covered the floor. The scene and the sound of moaning-apparently from a CD or tape-turned him on despite the fact that it seemed quite a strange and seedy situation. Or maybe this all simply added to his stimulation.

Either way, Craig's penis was very hard now.

'Perhaps I can be of assistance, sir?'

The bald man was in the room looking at him with a slightly expectant smile. Craig noticed that the man had applied lipstick. He moved forward and decided to drop and step out of his trousers. He wore no underwear. The man glanced down and raised his eyebrows in mock delight, then looked back at Craig warmly. He descended and Craig was left with sight of the bobbing women. He felt a warm, quivering tongue circle his cock head before sensing the heat of the man's mouth around his cock shaft. The man's mouth firmly closed and started to slide back and forth as his tongue playfully teased him. Craig looked down and saw a trace of cherry red lipstick on his cock, felt a desire to hold the man's bald head, to clasp it close. Instead he ran his hand over the tiled wall, the other hand on his buttock, guiding his cock into the man's throat as he watched the women. He could hear the muffled moaning and smacking of the man's mouth which joined the sounds of sex in the room beyond. Suddenly, one of the women crawled to the other as a man-no doubt in the same capacity as Craig- reached his orgasm, Craig could just make out the jet of semen as it struck the blonde in the face, the second jet looping over the brunette's hair. The rest was sprayed over both faces. The girls writhed on hands and knees for a short period before turning their faces up and receiving a stream of urine.

The man's mouth seemed to sense that Craig was now approaching is own release, and Craig felt it move away. The man alternated his oral expertise with that of his hand and asked Craig if he was ready. Craig murmured a low 'Yes.' He opened and closed his eyes as the pleasure mounted steadily in direct response to the man's deftly quickening strokes. 'Excellent' the old man breathed. 'We do ask a donation sir. That is,' he laughed, 'apart from the liquid variety. Is 20 pounds agreeable?'

'Mmmmmph' was all Craig could muster. The girls were now below him as was apparent by a pair of slippery, wiggling behinds as seen from the porthole. The man's grip intuitively matched Craig's own thrusts and soon did nothing more than guide and aim his cock as Craig ejaculated fully into the faces of the girls who would each look up for him to approve the sight. They had evidently had many layers of urine and cum in the past few hours. Much was dried and caked.

'Need a big piss sir?'

The girls massaged Craig's gently drooping cock. He indeed found the need and the will to piss, which he now did, the man guiding the hot jet over the faces of the women, examining more that they were adequately covered and humiliated, not that the semen was washed away. Craig now finished, adjusted his trousers, found his wallet and placed a note in a box by the door.

'Thank you sir. Come again.'