It's Saturday mid-morning and I am watching music TV channels waiting for what fate has to throw at me. I'll elaborate on that in a moment but first I'll give you some history.
I am twenty five years old, married for six years (to Jenn) and have a three year old daughter. I am six feet tall, good build, dark hair, shy but friendly and like, on the whole, to keep to myself. I have got a good job, well paying and lead an everyday, normal life. No real excitement or scandal, just getting from one day to the next. I'd been thinking about this for a long time and this weekend seemed to me to be the perfect time to do it. I'd had dreams and thoughts and fantasies of doing it for nearly a year now. My wife was staying with her mother for a week (she was ill) and had taken our daughter with her. So I had had a week of my own cooking, a week of my own company and a week of my own thoughts and planning. It had been a long week.
So, anyway, I decided that maybe I shouldn't be doing this and as a final check as to what fate intended for me I invented this test. It's stupid, I know. If you really want to do something you're going to do it no matter what, so maybe this was just a way to reduce my guilt or conscience, that what I was intending doing was the fault of fate and not me. I don't know. Anyway, I decided that if five of my favorite pop music video stars were on the various music stations as I clicked through them between eleven and twelve I would do this . If they weren't, I wouldn't. They were, in no particular order:
Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Avril Lavigne, Rachel Stevens, Girls Aloud, Destiny's Child, Christina Milian, Jennifer Lopez, Kylie Minogue, NataliIe Imbruglia.
All hot young pop babes. See I'm not gay am I? I told myself. I couldn't be.
Then why is that if I see five of these that I am going to go up to the public toilets in town and enter one of the cubicles, strip naked and hope that someone saw the message I wrote on the wall a week earlier and comes to have their cock sucked by me?
Ten minutes later and I'm walking up the High Street feeling like I'm in a daze. Of course the videos came on, they were really bound to. My legs pulled me in the right direction as a battle raged in my mind as to whether I should be doing this or not. I didn't notice anybody that I walk past, all headed into town for their Saturday shopping. The further I got from the center of town the less people I passed and the more my confidence and resolve to do this grew. Now I started to pay more attention to who was around me, what cars were driving past to the car park I was headed to. Up the pavement to the final road leading into the near deserted car park and as I had the Saturday before my eyes dart nervously and guiltily around, looking for movement, relieved there was none and now my every move strikes me as being furtive.
I've thought about my approach and I actually walk past it's entrance on the other side of the road, check no-one is about and then casually veer over and nip in between the stone walls at the buildings entrance.
I cautiously entered the old stone entrance and swiftly ascertained there was no one there already. What I would have done if there had been, I don't know. I looked around more slowly and took in my surroundings, they were hardly inspiring, but that had been part of the thrill of this from the beginning. The walls were slate grey and uninviting, as if determined that patrons should spend as little time as possible here. High, blurred windows over the urinals to the right of the entrance allowed a modicum of natural light into the place, while the rest came from the open entrance I had just stepped through. As I stood just in from the entrance I was faced by the slightly intimidating prospect of three open cubicle doors. I made straight for the one furthest to the right. On trembling legs I made for it, I was not going to turn back now.
Through the prevailing smell of stale urine I stepped into the cubicle and slammed the bolt home on the heavy wooden door. My heart was thundering inside my chest but I had made it. I swiveled and viewed the words I had written on the wall, in amongst the rest of the graffiti, the previous Friday afternoon.
I WILL BE NAKED, ON MY KNEES AND WILL SUCK YOUR COCK HERE NEXT SATURDAY AT 12:30
And here I was, Saturday, twelve twenty five, in the cubicle, dressed and on my feet. This had been the fantasy which had dominated my thoughts for the past year and here I was about to live it.
I had lived these moments in my mind for a long time and it seemed second nature to me as I pulled off the loose jumper and shirt I had worn and dropped them at the back of the cubicle behind the toilet bowl. Not pausing, fearing that I may back out, I undid my belt and slid my jeans and shorts off and my socks soon followed them onto the pile of clothes. As my suddenly exposed body felt the chill draft coming from under and over the locked door, I relished the feeling of my skin turn to goose flesh This was daring, this was exciting, this made me feel more alive than I had in years. My cock reacted by rising up and standing to attention, I hadn't been this hard since I was a teenager having sex for the first time.
I closed my eyes in enjoyment of the moment and dropped to my knees on the cold, unforgiving, tiled floor and waited for whatever would happen.
I waited for five minutes during which my ears heard all sorts of noises that seemed to indicate someone had come in or was lurking outside or a vehicle was slowing down. But nothing seemed to occur. I resisted the pressing urge to stroke my hard cock and revel in this feeling and concentrated my mind on reading the filth upon the stone walls around me.
Then a definite footstep at the entrance to the toilets, I froze, my heart stopped and I couldn't even breathe as I strained to hear more. For a moment the silence is total. Had I imagined it? No, because the steps came again, louder, clearer and coming this way. I dared not move and my eyes followed your movements as if I could see through the wooden door and stone walls. Staying stock still on my knees, I couldn't see you pause outside my closed door but I knew you had and at that moment I knew that you had come here to act on my message and I thought for sure that my heartbeat was likely to explode.
But you didn't pause for long, you moved on and I followed the noise of your footsteps past my door and heard the door of the cubicle next to mine squeaking open and shutting and it's bolt sliding home. I took a quick breathe and when I resumed my silent vigil I could hear you unzipping your trousers. Seconds later I could hear what can only be the noise of a penis being slapped against a palm next door. The skin slapping continued for at least half a minute and I could no longer prevent my right hand reaching down and gently stroking my own hard cock. And then you stopped. I trained my ears again, had someone else entered? What were you doing? I could hear a faint scrabbling and scrapping and then a piece of paper was slid under my door ( there was a small centimeter gap at the bottom of our joined wall).