The rest room opened off the food court in the small mall across the parking lot from the Weeping Willows Retirement Apartments.
Jake Sawyer stood at the urinal, cock in hand, willing a golden stream to gush forth and splash against the gleaming white porcelain.
A portly, black bearded man in a plain, gray jogging suit entered, stepped up to the idle urinal next to Jake and nodded.
Jake stared straight ahead as the man grasped the elastic waistband of his jogging pants and lowered the front until he could release his soft cock over the stretched elastic.
“Well what do you know?” The big man smiled. “Found the little devil on the first try.”
In spite of himself, Jake’s eyes shifted to his left for a glimpse of the two inches of soft pecker with a puckered foreskin and a wrinkly scrotum below a nest of black, kinky, wiry hair on an overhanging belly. He quickly diverted his eyes and willed his bladder to release its urine.
The big man expelled a sigh of relief as his stream rained against the porcelain and ran golden down to the floor level to swirl about the smelly cake of deodorant. “Nothing like a good piss to lighten a man’s load after a few trips around the mall.”
“I should start walking every morning,” said Jake. “The best and easiest exercise in the world once you get into the swing of it,” said the big man.
Jake listened to the bearded mans yellow torrent hit the porcelain. His own weak stream quickly petered out, then began again. “Damn prostate,” breathed the taller, thinner man.
The big man finished and flipped off the last drop. “Sometimes it feels so good out I wish I could leave it out.”
“That could get you arrested,” said Jake.
The big man washed his hands at the washbowl. He shook his head “Sad state of affairs,” said the big man.
*** Three days later, Jake stood at the same urinal and waited. He had seen the big man enter the food court and approach the breakfast bar, purchase a cup of coffee and settle in a booth. He had given the man five minutes and entered the rest room. Now he stood, cock out and barely limber as he awaited his stream and hopefully the big man who had scoped him three days previously.
He heard the door open and close and nervously listened to the footsteps approach the twin urinals. He saw the man standing next to him and breathed a silent sigh of relief.
Jake, from the corner of his eye, watched the big man lower the front of his jogging pants, as he had the last time, and expose his uncut cock and balls.
The big man looked Jake in the eye. “How’re they hanging today?”
Jake shrugged. He willed the urine to flow, though intermittently, and splash against the white porcelain.
“Prostate still acting up?”
Jake nodded. “It’s hard to start, then it cuts off and I start all over. The stream is never as strong as it used to be.
The big man nodded sympathetically. His strong stream spouted from the small penis and splashed audibly against the white urinal. “It’s not a terribly complicated operation.”
“You’re a doctor?”
“Heaven’s no. I’m a retired salesman.”
“Oh.”
The big man smiled, sheepishly. “But I’ll tell you what. We could play doctor if you like. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Jake could not believe he had heard the man right. “What!” He pressed closer to the porcelain.
“What I’m getting at is, instead of sneaking peeks at each others assets, which we both have done, we could both admit we’re curious, have a good look and be done with it.”
“I don’t believe this,” said Jake.
“You checked me out the other day. I admit I don’t mind showing it off, even in it’s small present state.”
“Men aren’t supposed to do that,”said Jake.
“But most men, most often, sneak a peek, you know. We’re just ashamed to admit how curious we are.”
“Not openly.”
“Perhaps MEN should be more open.”
“By comparing their peckers in a public rest room? I hardly think so.”
The big man nodded and shook the last drop from a cock that had gown at least a couple of inches but was still flexible. He pulled up his waist band as Jake watched the man’s balls and penis disappear.
“Oh hell,” said Jake. He took one step back and turned to the other man and removed his hand to expose to expose close to six inches of expanding cock with the exposed, pink head totally exposed. He turned away and and back to the urinal. “Satisfied?”
“Never. Are you?”
“I refuse to . . .”
“I live in the Weeping Willows Apartments across the street. Names Mitch Henry.” The fat man extended a chubby hand with thick soft fingers. “I recognized you as the man who moved into our humble complex last week.”
Jake Sawyer looked at the extended hand. “Sorry, I seem to have my hand full at the moment.”
“Or at least better occupied.” Mitch smiled.
“I’m Jake. I’m still getting settled so I haven’t got around to meeting any of my neighbors as yet.” “It’s not a bad place,” said Mitch, “once you get used to it.” “So they tell me.” Jake grinned. “You probably are thinking I’m Jewish from the nose and,” he hesitated, “other things you may have noticed.”
Mitch smiled. “The thought occurred to me.”
“This is getting a too personal. It really doesn’t matter but I’m really not circumcised”
The big man turned to the sink, washed his hands and made his way to the exit. He paused with his hand on the door. “ I’d like to share a cup of coffee with you and continuing this conversation on the outside.” The door closed behind him.
Jake stood silently at the urinal. A semi-erect penis between his thumb and forefinger, still trying to piss.
*** When Jake came out, Mitch raised his hand and beckoned the slender man to join him.
Not sure what to expect from the overly friendly man, Jake, uneasily, approached the booth.
At midmorning the food court was mostly deserted. Mitch had a large paper cup of coffee in front of him.
The big man nodded to a second cup in front of the empty space. “Thought you might like a replacement for the liquid you just lost. Have a seat.”
Jake shrugged and sat. “I love coffee but it goes through me faster than beer. Thank you.”
“Speaking of what went on in there,” said the big man, “I enjoyed our little conversation. You know, every straight man that stands next to you at a urinal is as curious as you but he rather die that get caught peeking.”
“That’s probably true,” said Jake.
“You look like a reasonable man, I hope you won’t be insulted if I come right out and ask.”
“I can always leave. Ask away.”
“I was wondering, do you still jack off regularly?”
“Now,” interrupted Jake. “That is getting personal.”
“I know.” The fat man grinned and stroked his well-trimmed, white beard. “Isn’t it just?”
“That’s a topic that doesn’t come up in an everyday conversation.”
Mitch smiled. “Back to my question. You still do jerk off, don’t you?”
“Occasionally,” admitted Jake.
“Of course you do. Every man who wakes up in the morning with a hard-on jerks off.”
“Most don’t go around bragging about it,” observed Jake.
“Maybe they should,” said Mitch. “At our age waking up with a hard-on is something to be proud of.”
