Public Transit Fantasy #02

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Statement of veracity:

This is a true story. Well, everything up to the break point. I'll leave it to you to guess which of these is the full true story.

***

I was transferring from the subway to my bus and I had to take a piss. Normally, of course, I'd steer clear of the subway station public restroom, but I

really

had to go. So I tromped down to the far end of the station and into the men's room.

They'd actually refurbished it just a few months ago, and at least it didn't have the rank, disgusting smell that I remembered. There were new fixtures and, to my surprise, it looked fairly presentable. I walked over to the urinals, stopping when I saw that all three were taken. Half-watching, it looked like the older guy on the right was almost done and giving himself a final shake, but the guy in the middle finished first and quickly moved away from the urinal.

Ugh!

-- the middle urinal. Oh well, it would just look weird to stand and lurk and wait for one of the outer ones, so I stepped up to it and busied myself with undoing my fly. The guy to me left finished up and left as I began to relieve myself.

The older guy to my right was still shaking his cock to get those last few drops off.

No, wait!

I suddenly realized, as my brain assembled what I was barely seeing in my peripheral vision:

he's not shaking the piss off his cock, he's jerking off!

My heart skipped a beat.

Oh gross! This guy is totally masturbating in public!

As I kept pissing, from the corner of my eye I could recognize that constant stroking motion he was making. I was trying to finish up and leave, when I realized my piss-flow was slowing down... because I was beginning to get an erection! How embarrassing -- and vaguely disgusting.

Scenario #1

I have to get out of here

, I thought, as I stared straight ahead, trying to concentrate on just emptying my bladder but my flow was still slowing. I looked down, and I was almost fully hard now. I didn't know what to do.

For the first time, I looked over directly at the man. He was openly watching me -- and my cock -- as he stroked himself. He was maybe fifty-ish, a fairly indistinct guy. A face in the crowd. But there was no crowd and he was standing beside me, exposing himself in a public restroom.

I didn't know what to do, and in the adrenalized frozen-moment rush, for some reason it didn't occur to me to simply shove my hard-on into my pants and awkwardly walk out of there. It's as if I was fixated on my erection. And on his, I suppose, as I suddenly realized I had been staring down at his crotch.

Almost involuntarily, my hand reached down to my own cock, and I was surprised at how ragingly hard I was. No further thought was required as I did what came naturally and I began jerking off. Quickly, I fell into the same rhythm as the man beside me, matching him stroke for stroke.

His cock was nothing special -- it actually looked a little smaller than my own average tool -- but there was something intoxicating in watching his hand slide up and down it. I had never watched anyone masturbate before, and it seemed strange to be witnessing such a private thing.

But given how hard I was, it was obviously turning me on. And the sight of my turgid cock seemed to be effecting him, as his strokes were now speeding up. I matched him, and I could feel that delicious wave rising in me. Both our hands were a blur, and it didn't take long from there. As soon as I saw the white jet of semen bursting from his cock, that sent me over into a massive orgasm. It felt like something was exploding behind my eyes for a second. This wasn't like the normal experience of jerking off.

And then I was done. I looked down and saw my come dripping over the lip of the urinal and dribbling onto the floor. And right then, the normal world snapped back into place, and I suddenly realized what I was doing.

Holy fuck! I have to get out of here!

I shoved my cock, already merely half-hard, back into my pants, zipped up, and walked away without looking at the man again. I stopped at the sink and quickly washed my hands, not stopping at the hand dryer. As I was wiping my hands on my pants on the way out the door, another man passed me, walking in.

Jesus! If he had been a minute earlier...

it didn't matter now. I was just a normal guy again, going to catch my bus. Already, it almost felt more like a dream than something that had actually happened.

Scenario #2

I have to get out of here

, I thought, as I stared straight ahead, trying to concentrate on just emptying my bladder and I realized how angry I was with this guy. Screw him!

"Well, piss on you, mister," I muttered as I twisted my torso. With a quick splash on the wall in between, now I was going in his urinal. I looked over at him with a

so there!

look.

The man looked at my face, and then quickly looked back down to watch my cock as he continued to stroke himself.

Well, that didn't work

, I thought to myself. Plus, now that I was twisted over, I had a more direct view of what the man was doing... and at his stiff cock.

I'd seen other men's cocks before, of course -- in the locker room and so forth, and also, I guess, in porn. But I'd never really paid them any special attention. So this was the first time that I was really

looking

at another guy's dick.... and looking... and looking. As my piss stream eased off, I suddenly realized I'd been staring at the man's tool. I suppose it wasn't all that giant or anything, but it was somehow fascinating how solid it looked. It just seemed

right

somehow.

The guy had been stroking himself all along as I was staring at his cock, but now he suddenly stopped and pulled his hand away, as if he wanted to give me a better view. For a few seconds, it stood there at attention, jutting out and twitching slightly a couple times.

And then... well, I'm not sure why it happened. But I reached over and I touched it. I gripped his shaft, as if I was trying to measure the thickness of it. And if felt surprisingly thick. And warm, too.

Alive

.

I could feel it blood-warm in my hand. I squeezed a little and saw the head swell outward a little. And that excited me even more. It was so warm!

And then, I started slowly stroking him. The experience was utterly strange: familiar, in one sense, feeling my hand rub up and down, as I had done to myself uncountable times. But it was also strange not to

feel

myself being stroked at the same time. The divorce of action and biofeedback was really jarring. And perhaps because I wasn't feeling the pleasurable sensations that normally came with the action, it felt like the tactile sensitivity of my hand was increasing to compensate.

I couldn't believe how

vivid

it felt to be jerking this man off. Everything seemed like slow motion and I felt like I was drowning in the details of the sensation: not just that incredible heat, but the firm smoothness of his shaft. And the details of the contours, how my fingers rubbed along that detailed intersection along the bottom of his crown. How I could see his pre-come slowly oozing out, and then being slicked back along his shaft. His pubic hair scratching against my wrist as my hand moved all the way back to his root.

Everything was so heightened, I was wondering if this was more intense for me than for him. But it looked like he was getting something out of it, as I could hear his breathing speed up. Wanting to push him along, my strokes became quicker, and soon I could feel something now below my hand, a rapid surging that told me what would happen next before I saw it -- and yes, now he was coming, strong jets of his milky fluid being pumped into the urinal.

I kept pumping him for as long as his orgasm continued, and then slowed down. I would have been reluctant to let go of his tantalizing cock if it weren't for the fact that without thinking my hand moved back to my own tool, and I was quickly giving another handjob -- this one to myself.

Back in familiar territory, that sensation of supersensitivity in my fingers quickly departed, pushed aside the exploding rising pleasure in my cock. It didn't take more than a few seconds and I was inducing my second orgasm in under a minute. Hardly even thinking about where I was aiming, it was only as I was already ejaculating that I realized my semen was spurting right onto the man's cock.

And as my orgasm subsided, I quickly realized what I had just done, and where I was. In a blind panic, I stuffed my cock in my pants and was zipping up my fly. I only passingly noticed that the man was in no such rush -- he was stroking himself again, now smearing my come along the length of his semi-deflated cock.

In a dazed rush, I bolted from the washroom, almost bumping into another man who was coming in. It wasn't until I was on my bus, sitting down with my eyes closed, that what I had done started to sink in. There was a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn't tell if it was disgust... or arousal.

Scenario #3

I have to get out of here

, I thought, as I stared straight ahead, trying to concentrate on just emptying my bladder -- but it was getting more difficult to keep pissing as my cock was getting harder and harder. By the time my trickling stopped, I had a full-fledged erection. I couldn't believe it! And along with that involuntary reaction I felt a strange wave of pure horniness radiating out from my crotch.

I had to get out of here! I shook my cock in a vain attempt to make my hard-on go away.

But the guy beside me took that as an indication of interest; I don't know, maybe it was part of some gay code or something. He looked over at me. "You want to get sucked?" he asked in a low voice.

I always embarrassed easily, and now I could feel my cheeks becoming beet red. But once again, he read that as something else, like the flush of arousal. And despite myself, I

was

tremendously aroused.

"C'mon," he said, and stepped away from the urinal. Not bothering to conceal his turgid cock, he stepped over to the first of the toilet stalls that was beside the urinals. In a daze, not thinking, I followed after him. As I nearly reached the stall, the door slammed shut and I saw the lock turning.

Wait, what? Wasn't I supposed to go in there with him?

I was confused. But feeling exposed (quite literally!) I let my momentum carry me forward and I quickly stepped into the adjacent stall.

At least I'm not going to get caught in the bus station washroom with my cock out

, I thought, twisting the lock behind me.

As I turned back around, a movement caught me eye. Even in this newly-refurbished washroom, there was a round hole in the wall shared with the next stall, stuffed full of toilet paper, which the guy was quickly poking loose. As I watched, I saw his fingers waggle lewdly through.

Glory hole!

My words echoed through my mind from crude locker room talk and from porno. I guess I never really thought of them as something real, but now, here was a hole right in front of me. At almost the right height. Beckoning...

My cock was still almost painfully hard. The fingers waggled at me again in invitation, and I felt a weird surge. Once again, I felt a peculiar sort of momentum, like there was only one way forward in this situation.

Twisting around to face the wall, I surveyed the hole. The edges were covered with electrician's tape.

Who makes these?

some part of my mind wondered.

Are there gloryhole craftsmen who get off on setting these up?

It must have taken a fair amount of work to make a hole in the metal partition. An inviting hole. Just the right size to...

I had to crouch down a bit, and hunch my hips back to get in position, but once I guided the head of my cock through and thrust forward, it felt like a natural fit, like a miracle technology. I looked down, and it was a strange, beguiling sight to see my hips pressed against the wall, to sense that my cock was protruding into terra incognita...

...and then all of that detail was irrelevant as I felt his lips on my cock. I felt his slobber dribble onto my shaft, followed by his tongue, licking up and down the length of it.

The sensations were amazing! The fact that I couldn't see what was happening made everything more intense. To keep my balance, I spread my legs, and my hands reached up to grip the top of the partition. And as his mouth engulfed my cock, my grip tightened.

This is incredible!

As the man began moving his mouth up and down on my cock, it immediately felt as if this was most amazing blowjob I had ever received. For a few seconds I had to close my eyes and just cling to that wall for dear life.

I felt like I might blow my top right there, but the man slowed down. With mild irritation -- I didn't want that pleasure to stop -- I opened my eyes and looked down. Ah. From the shadow on the floor, I could tell the guy had slowed down because he had started to jerk himself off.

After a few seconds, he found his rhythm, sucking on my cock while he stroked his own. I watched and could see his shadow-strokes moving in time to the efforts his mouth was making.

He was unusually talented at giving head. Effortlessly taking in the length of my cock, I could feel the glorious textures of his tongue, his cheeks. His constantly-shifting slurping raised the intensity very slowly. He was in control of my cock in the way that only an experienced cocksucker can be. He wasn't some insecure co-ed, rushing to get me off as quickly as possible. he was an

artist

.

But he was also devoted to his own pleasure. After taking me on that slow ride to the point I had lost track of time, I suddenly heard a grunt from his stall. And a couple seconds later, I saw his load of come start to dribble down from the wall on his side of he partition.

This is where he finishes me off

, I figured, anticipating what it would feel like to have that mouth working on me with his full attention. But to my surprise, his mouth pulled off my cock. Confused and disappointed, I sort of humped against the wall, trying to thrust my cock back into that warm, wet pleasure space. But to my surprise, his shadow on the floor shifted in a new way... and then I could see that shadow of the door to his stall opening.

Wait! Come back!

The fact that my cock was exposed to a now-vacant toilet stall in a public restroom seemed less important than my need to get off. My cock was so hard now, I half-wondered if I'd be able to pull it back through the hole in its current state.

And then, again to my confusion, the door to the next stall swung shut again. I didn't know what was happening.

"Oh, so pretty!" Said a muffled voice from the stall. A different voice. Before I could process the fact that another man had taken the guy's place, I felt fingers rubbing my cock. And then, seconds later, a new set of lips engulf me.

Oh shit! Now another guy is sucking my cock!

Thinking that through was strangely intoxicating and arousing. This guy was no artist, his mouth moving clumsily (and not particularly deeply) up and down my shaft without any of the grace of the other guy. But the fact that some stranger -- someone I had never even seen! -- was giving me head was tremendously exciting. So as it was, it didn't take long before I could feel my orgasm rising. With a moan, I began to come, and the guy's mouth remained clamped to my cock. The fact that he was swallowing my load was even dirtier than I could imagine, and that gave me a final pulse of pleasure as my climax subsided. I have no doubt it was the most intense orgasm I'd ever had.

And quickly, my immense erection was subsiding. As I hunched back to withdraw, I realized how stiff I was from the awkward position I'd been in. But as quickly as I could, I zipped up and tried to look composed as I opened the door of the toilet stall and stepped out.

There was yet another man waiting there, and I had a moment of blind panic that I had been busted. But he looked more like a homeless guy than a cop. He almost pushed me aside to get past me into the stall.

Holy shit, he'd been waiting there -- he must have gotten horny listening to me getting my cock sucked!

And even as he slammed the stall door shut, he was unzipping, eager for a chance to feed his cock to the guy on the other side of the wall.

As I made my way out of the restroom, I thought to myself,

too bad for him -- he's getting his cock sucked, but not by the really talented mouth.

But I guess this is how guys practice and get better. And for the rest of the week, I kept thinking about how maybe I'd like to go back give some guy a chance to practice.

Scenario #4

I have to get out of here

, I thought, as I stared straight ahead, trying to concentrate on just emptying my bladder but it was no use. Soon enough my cock was fully hard, and I couldn't pee at all.

I heard the guy beside me, make a huffing noise. "Looks like you're horny," he said to me with a muttered stage whisper.

"Fuck you, faggot!" My words were much louder than I intended, and they echoed through the restroom for a second.

"Don't call people names," he said, with a hurt look on his face. Then he stopped stroking himself and reached over and gripped my cock. I was frozen in place, feeling sure this wasn't really happening. "I think you like it, you get

this

hard."

He slowly stroked my cock for a couple seconds, and I was still unable to move, rooted in place with terror and revulsion and... a strange jolt of pleasure. He looked up at my face. "Anyways, you want to?"

"Want

what

?" I said, once again, louder than I mean to.

"Do you want to fuck me?" he said slowly. Then he nodded his head and spat, his glob of saliva splashing onto my shaft. He rubbed it up and down, the slickness of it sending another wave of pleasure radiating from my cock. My knees almost buckled underneath me.

"Yeah, c'mon," he hissed. Gripping my cock, he stepped away from the urinal, and led me to a toilet stall in the same manner a guy might lead a maiden, romantically holding her hand en route to the place of seduction.

The toilet stall was not a romantic place of seduction.

As soon as we were both in the narrow chamber, the guy was already undoing his belt and dropping his pants. That left me to close and lock the door behind us, and when I turned back, he was already facing away from me, leaning forward and bending over. Presenting his ass to me.

It was not, compared to what turns me on, a particularly sexy ass. It was a pale, lumpy, slightly droopy sight. But it still registered in some part of my mind as an object for me to fuck. At any rate, my cock didn't seem to be turned off -- I was rigidly hard, and a string of clear pre-come was dangling down from my piss slit.

I wasn't really thinking about anything else, except how much I wanted to get my rocks off.

I spat into the palm of my hand and made a fist, rubbing my thumb in and out of the slick crevasse. And then I quickly pressed my thumb to his asshole. To my surprise, it entered pretty easily, and I jabbed it into him a couple times. He pushed back against me, seeming to approve of the intrusion.

Any of the times I had fucked my girlfriends up the ass (although it wasn't that many times) I had always been super careful and conscientious, going slow and following all the steps laid out in the books and advice columns. But now, I wasn't interested in foreplay.