Home always feels familiar
I'd only been back up home for a couple of days, but somehow it was already dragging, and I was reduced to aimless wandering. The town I'm from really isn't very big, think Northern, working class, and a bit rough around the edges and you've got a good picture. There are enough people to warrant a couple of high schools, a few big supermarkets and barely anything else, but my family are there and it's where I came back in the holidays.
As much as I enjoyed seeing my family, I was glad that I'd got away to university, the high street had barely changed since I left. Apart from the huge Woolworths, which was now just a huge Woolworths by another name, bordered by the same takeaways, the same charity shops, and the same people, there was nothing new. As I passed by the ex-Woolies, I decided to pop in and grab a drink, ten minutes later and I'd necked a bottle of coke and was sat on a bench outside of the local Gregg's, thinking that I might as well start the half hour wander back home.
As I stood up from the bench, stretched, and started to pace my way back up the high street, I felt a twinge and figured I might as well piss before I headed home. I turned left, nipping down the side alley that I knew would take me to public loos. As far as I remembered they were always pretty rank; perpetually out of bog roll, barely cleaned, and always stinking. I usually made a point of avoiding them, using a supermarket toilet instead, but as I headed toward them my urgency increased and I was quietly thanking myself for deciding to use them before heading half an hour in the opposite direction.
I took a deep breath as the pressure built and, reaching the entrance to the toilets, planted my shoulder firmly in to the heavy black door to push my way in, whilst undoing my belt. God knows why one coke had flown through me at the speed of light, but I wasn't grateful for it, given the stench of stale piss that smacked me in the face as I swung around the corner toward the urinals. As expected, the place was empty apart from a strong stench of piss and, for some reason, a very wet floor.
In front of me was the usual metal trough urinal you'd expect and, unchanged for years, I had my back to three cubicles down one wall and three sinks down the other. I tilted my head back, having pulled out my cock, and released an audible sigh as a I let out a heavy stream of piss that seemed to take minutes to drain. This place was ancient, with red tiles on the floor and white on the walls, and, as I moved to the sink to wash up, I saw the cracked porcelain sinks echoed the buildings age.
The mirrors looked new though, I thought, looking myself up and down as I rinsed my hands. Brown hair and blue eyes; I was Mr Average to look at, with average height, average looks, but luckily an above average cock. At twenty, and a couple of years in to Uni, I was slightly overweight but I carried it decently and looked a bit like a heavy rugby player. As I appraised my features, I ran a hand over the stubble that had quickly become a short beard and reminded myself to shave that night.
I took a moment more looking in the mirror before heading to the hand drier. Of course, I should have expected it, the f-ing thing didn't work and it was Baltic outside....bollocks was I going out with soaking hands. I turned to the cubicles, hoping there'd be some loo roll, and spotted that the one on the far left was occupied. I hadn't noticed that when I arrived but I had been pretty desperate. I nipped in the middle cubicle; no joy. I tried the last one, thankfully there was a pretty full roll, and, as I grabbed a few sheets, I glanced around and saw the back of the door was covered in scrawl.
Line after line, of thick black ink, shone in the shitty light and I found myself reading it. Some of it was filthy: "dirty daddy needs a hole to spunk in, let me fill you up and eat you out". Some of it was tame: "Young lad looking to suck". All of it was having an effect on me; my cock was stirring. As I continued reading, I slowly pulled the door close and slid the bolt across. I unzipped my jeans, and unbuckling my belt, pushed them down to my knees. My cock had hardened fast and was standing to full attention, 7 inches and thick, and I wrapped my hand around it slowly pulling my foreskin back to reveal my shining thick knobhead.
As I slowly started to wank my cock, relishing the feel of the thick veins under my fingers, I started to read more of the wall and, lower down, noticed the drawings. They weren't the best but they were pretty good, multiple big thick cocks with mushroomed helmets and splashes of spunk spewing from them, an arsehole and the words "eat me", and several hairy ball sacks. It had been a while since I'd got some, so I was relishing the horny environment around me and continued to tug on my thick meat as I read further.
After a minute or two, lost in my sudden lust, I heard a creak from along the line of cubicles. I stopped, freezing in place and strained my ears. I could hear the door slowly opening and then footsteps, they stopped outside of my cubicle and I could see a shadow on the floor. I panicked, fuck, had they heard me wanking? Before I could think any further, the shiny black tip of a dress shoe appeared under the door, moving from side to side, and tapped. I edged my foot forward, I don't know why I did it but I tapped back, I couldn't stop myself.
Then I froze, not sure what to do. I'd heard of cottaging but I'd never actually done it....and certainly not in my own town, you don't shit on your own door step! As I stayed quiet, the foot and shadow withdrew, the footsteps receded and the door creaked again as I heard it being pulled to. I waited a couple of minutes, then a couple more, and then decided I would leave. I slowly pulled to bolt and opened the door, firm that I would leave the cubicle and head for the exit.
As I made my way, I glanced over my shoulder, and my resolve melted...curiosity and a long drought had gotten the best of me. The other cubicle door was still slightly ajar, and, as I looked toward it, I could see someone looking back at me. I couldn't tell who it was, but they could definitely see me. I swallowed hard and veered toward the sink and, as I went through the motions of washing my hands again, I kept a watch through the mirror in front of me.
The cubicle door slowly creaked further open and the face I could see in the mirror was familiar. I glanced over my shoulder for a better view. In the cubicle door stood a Gent in his early 50s, around six foot, with salt and pepper hair. He was wearing the black dress shoes I'd seen under the door, as well as cords, a shirt and a barber jacket. He was imposing; a beard, a stern face, a thick set body and a hugely thick cock that that he was slowly wanking was sticking out his flies.
I turned round fully, unable to resist and realised the familiarity. He was the Dad of my brother's friend. I recognised Frank from the shared school run around ten years ago, but I don't think he recognised me. As I stared, unable to look away, he continued to wank his cock and, not breaking eye contact, slowly he nodded his head at me and motioned me over. Like a robot, I walked over, quietly and nervously, until I was a few feet away from him.
As I stood there, nervous and unsure what to do next, Frank closed the gap between us and took my hand, placing it firmly on his cock. "Fuck...." I let slip as I tried to close my hand all the way around its thickness and realised I couldn't. Frank grinned and slowly backed in to the cubicle, I followed without question. Somehow he didn't need to do or say anything to convince me to go in with him. Frank had an air of authority about him; he was going to use me and he knew it.
As he locked the door behind us, I stood nervously, awaiting instruction. This close to Frank, I could smell him and he smelt fucking good. It was a manly, musk-like, scent that I couldn't put my finger on and it was intoxicating. Turning around, Frank was unbuttoning his shirt, a forest of black chest hair greeted me just below eye level and he pulled his shirt open to reveal good muscularity and a set of large protruding nipples. Standing uncomfortably close to me, Frank grabbed each nipple and pulled them both hard, twisting them as he let out a low groan.
"Get your mouth on one of these" he growled as he leaned in further still. I opened my mouth and latched on to one of the large teats, sucking and licking as he began to wank his big cock again. Frank quietly groaned as he pushed my head further in to his chest and worked his fingers in to my hair. Without warning, he pulled me back by my hair and forced me on to his other nipple. It was my turn to groan, despite my nervousness, and I heard a distinct chuckle from him. He leant down to me and whispered in my ear "I'm glad you like that, it'll be my cock next..."
I pulled off his tit and looked up at him, "Please...." I heard myself saying. "Sit on the toilet" he gruffly instructed. I quickly worked my pants down and, cock in hand, sat myself on the toilet. Frank shuffled closer to me and, again taking me by the hair, pulled my head forcefully forward. His cock was an inch from my face, his balls were massive and hairier than any I'd seen before, and his cock was literally throbbing. The foreskin was halfway back, head glistening, and precum pooling at his piss-slit with veins popping all the way along his six inches. With little warning he pushed his cock straight at my mouth and pulled my head on to it. It filled my mouth and tasted incredible, manly and musky, his hairs scratched at my nose as I felt his balls pressing against my chin whilst I took his full length and tried not to choke on his girth. I repeatedly swallowed as I tried not to gag until he started rocking his hips in to my face, beginning to fuck my mouth. Within half a minute, I had gagged and pulled myself off his cock with a string of thick saliva hanging between my bottom lip and the tip of his cock. I looked up at him from the toilet, full of lust, as he wiped the throat slime from his cock, caught the stream between us, and forced it in to my mouth with his rough fingers.
"Try again." He instructed me, it wasn't a question or an offer, it was an order. I leant forward, this time taking just the tip of his cock in my mouth. I began to suck and swirl my tongue around his flared helmet and then flicked my tongue into his foreskin. As I enjoyed my explorations, Frank began to slowly thrust, each time his hips bucked forward his cock would push slightly further into my mouth until he was fucking my throat again. This time I was more prepared and managed better. With the cold toilet seat pressing in to my legs and one hand steadying myself on the wall, I placed my other hand under his big balls and held them whilst he relentlessly fucked my face.
As he pushed forward with another stroke, a more distant door opened and closed; someone was in the toilets with us. As I made to pull off Frank's thick meat, he held a finger to his mouth and, without a word, placed his other hand on the back of my head and kept on fucking my face. Staying as quiet as I could, I let him continue and began to quietly wank my own cock. There was the distinct noise of piss hitting the urinal and then the sound of hand washing. Without warning, Frank plunged his cock all the way in to my throat and held the back of my head, unable to move back off it, I gagged loudly and coughed. There was silence from outside the cubicle, then someone called "okay in there?" And Frank shouted back "frog in my throat, all fine." Moments later, the outer door opened and closed, the other man was gone, and I was on my feet.
"Get back on my cock" Frank said. Looking him in the eye, I fastened my jeans and made to leave the cubicle, shooting back "not here", intending that would be the end of it.
I was freaked. I was in my home town, locked in a cubicle, in a public toilet, with a man my parents knew and we had almost just been caught.
I left the cubicle and went to the sink, hoping to check I was decent in the mirror and then head off as quickly as I could. As I stood at the sink, I felt Frank come out of the cubicle and watched him again in the mirror. He sidled up to me before grabbing my arse firmly in one hand, leaning in, and saying "Follow me, lad." Once again, it wasn't a request, and once again, I couldn't seem to stop myself following orders. "Keep a distance" he barked over his shoulder before leaving the public toilets.
I gave him a few seconds head start and then left the loos after him. Glancing left and right, I saw that he was heading away from the town centre and, without thought, I was too. After a five-minute walk, we had reached one of the first rows of houses on the edge of the town centre. Frank turned up the garden steps of one of them, quickly unlocked the door and entered, leaving the front door ajar behind him.
I followed, closing the door behind me, and found myself in a darkly lit hallway. Frank nodded me toward a door, which I went through, in to a family living room. I was right, the walls were lined with varous pictures of Frank, his wife, and the son I knew over the years. Within a minute or two he joined me back in the room, my cock was still rock hard and straining against my jeans. I'd been idly fingering it whilst he was out of the room.
"So, you like sucking cock don`t you?" Frank commented in a low voice, as he undid his belt and cord trousers, before pushing to the ground and stepping out of them.
"Love it" I replied, my mouth a little dry
"I love it, Sir" Frank corrected
"Yes Sir" I replied.
"Good, because that's what you're going to be doing, amongst other things. Clothes off." He instructed. Without question, but practically shaking, I shed my clothes in this oddly homely but unfamiliar family lounge, feeling quite out of place. Once my clothes were on the sofa, I got to my knees, Frank standing in front of me (and the now closed living room curtains) also completely naked and unmistakably in control.
He walked forwards until his wrist thick cock was once again in front of me. "Open wide" was all he said before proceeding to guide his cock deep into my mouth, until my nose was once again buried in his pubes. He took hold of the sides of my head and began pumping his cock in and out of my eager mouth as I tried my best not to gag and choke. Obviously displeased with my success, he remarked "you're a bit too good at this" before moving his hands to the back of my head and forcing me right in to his crotch as he bucked his hips to really throat fuck me, causing me to gag and retch. "That's it boy, I want to hear you gag on Daddy's big cock" he growled, louder now that we weren't in public. My cock throbbed with each gag and I began to wank furiously as he carried on fucking my face. After a few minutes of brutally pummelling my throat he let up slightly. No sooner was one hand off the back of my head and it was holding my nose as he continued to fuck my throat, drool pouring down my chin and over his balls. I couldn't take it for long and soon I was pulling off his cock whilst gasping for breath. Seeming somewhat impressed Frank remarked "well done, boy" before pulling my head back in to his crotch.
This time his cock wasn't in my throat. It was in his hand being slapped across my face repeatedly and, in the process, covering my face in my own saliva. He stopped periodically to shove his thick, heavy, cock back in my mouth to get it wet again before continuing to slap and wipe it over my face. After several repeats of this, Frank ran his hand roughly over my face to catch all the throat slime.
"Lick it clean." He ordered, and without hesitation I licked and sucked his hand clean. "You really are a little slut, aren't you, boy." It wasn't a question and it didn't need an answer.
"On all fours, and let me see just how much of a slut you are." He instructed.
As I knelt, on the living room carpet on all fours, I felt his rough hands rub over my arse cheeks, giving one sharp slap before pulling them apart to inspect my hole. I could feel his finger circling my ring, as a low voice asked "So how well used is this then?" Embarrassed, I responded truthfully "It isn't Sir, only fingers".
There was silence, all I could feel was one hand circling my arse, as I stared at the sofa in front of me. A moment later Frank's other hand was in front of my face, he pressed his index and middle finger to my lips and I opened slightly to let them in. "Get them nice and wet" he said, as he started to slowly push them in and out of my mouth, whilst I sucked and licked them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see his thick and painfully erect cock, it was so wide I wasn't sure I'd be able to take it. As Frank pulled his fingers from my mouth, I glanced fully at it. He looked me in the eye and said "I don't think you've earned that privilege yet."
Seconds later I felt a pressure on my arse hole as he began to press his fingers in to me. As he rubbed his fingertips around the area, I felt him increasing the pressure, as he leant in close and spat on my hole. He began to push his fingers further in, until my hole felt tight and full. He began to properly finger fuck my hole, ramming his fingers in and out as best he could. "Fuck you're tight" he remarked as I squirmed and groaned, unsure if it was pleasure or pain I was feeling. Whilst he was working on opening me up, a new sensation took me as he squeezed my balls and then started to roughly wank my cock. I could barely contain myself and was practically whimpering on a married man's living room floor. He was enjoying this, almost as much as I was.
"You're a proper little slut, aren't you, time to paint you up like one, boy. Now lay on your back." He growled as he abruptly withdrew his thick fingers from my tight hole.
I flipped over, unsure what would happen next, when suddenly Frank joined me on the floor. Swinging a leg over the top of me, he firmly planted himself on my chest, letting his weight pin me down.
"Lick my balls, boy" he said as he shuffled further up me, his balls just below my chin as he pulled my head up by the hair, forcing my face in to his heavy ball sack. Frank began getting more verbal, telling me to "lick my balls, you slut" and "worship those big daddy balls". I ran my tongue back and forth as instructed, making them wet with my spit and easier to suck on. I could tell Frank was loving this and, as I looked up past the thick cock swaying above me, I saw Frank pulling on both of his nipples, lost in the sensation and coming to the edge.
Suddenly he began to forcefully grind his balls further in to my face. As I continued to lap at them, his cock began pulsating and he swore loudly.
"Fuck Boy, fucking tongue them, oh yeah" he groaned. Suddenly he leant further forward, grabbing my head with one hand and holding it in place, as he knelt over my face. His free hand was wrapped around his cock, furiously wanking, moving up and down its length whilst grazing my nose.
Almost immediately his body shuddered, a deep groan came from his chest, and hot white liquid was spilling out of his cock and all over my face. I could feel it dropping on to my face in heavy globs, before running over my face. I licked at what I could reach, cleaning my lips and tasting the warm, salty, juice.
Suddenly, it was over. He heavily wiped over my face with his fingers and pushed the remaining cum in to my mouth, before quickly standing up and leaving the room. He was soon back, with a cloth for me to properly wipe my face. "Get clean, then go" was all he said before exiting the room and, by the sounds of it, going upstairs.
I took a couple of minutes to wipe my face and get dressed before I left the living room. As I came in to the hall, I saw Frank coming back downstairs with a dressing gown on. He walked to the front door and unlatched it, pulling it open for me. "Best not tell your parents about this, Mark" he quietly instructed me with a filthy grin.
I quickly walked down the steps, slightly mortified by what I'd just done, praying I hadn't left any cum on my face, and now very much aware that he knew exactly who was.