Real life experiences have a way of seeding the imagination and spinning off into stories. The following is one such experience but I'm telling it just the way it happened. If you're inspired let me know how your version ends (or is changed).
If stories about sex between conscenting adults is bothersome for you, go to a different website; this isn't for you. If reading this is illegal for you (because of your age or location) then stop reading, NOW.
Please be aware than absolutely no animals were harmed in the production of this story. And only a few electrons were somewhat irritated.
I stopped at the "other" WalMart tonight to pick up hair dye for my wife (the store I work at had sold out of her color). On the way there, I realized I had to tend to a nature call (O.K., I had to shit), so I stopped in the rest room as soon as I got to the store.
There was a "kid" at the urinals who acted a little strange (like maybe he was jerking off when I interrupted him). Of course, I stepped into the first stall (because I had to "go"), but I dropped my pants and stood there, watching the kid's back in the mirrors (through the crack in my door).
He looked over his shoulder and then started stroking off. I tapped my toe under the wall on his side of the stall. He looked down at it, then over his shoulder and made eye contact.
He backed away from the urinal and stepped over to the sink and continued to look at me through the narrow crack (by way of my reflection in his mirror). Then he started to flash me (I was stroking my cock), but someone came into the restroom. So my companion in crime stepped sideways and into the handicapped stall next to mine (there were only the two stalls and two urinals in the room).
When the other guy flushed and left, my new buddy dropped to his hands and knees and reached under the wall between us. I whispered, "Let me see you," but before he could do anything but stand back up, another guy came into the room.
My buddy in the handicapped stall left the restroom quickly, but within the minute he was back (right after the other fellow left). He stood at the mirror again and tried to catch my eye. I nodded and gestured toward the handicapped stall, where he silently stepped again.
This time, two knees with his shorts pushed around them appeared under the wall and between them his hand was stroking what looked like a nice four-inch prick. I reached down and rubbed it, particularly massaging the head. I whispered, "Let me come over to your stall and suck on this." And I squeezed on the word "this" to affirm what I was talking about.
He stood up and I stood up and pulled up my slacks and slipped out of the stall. He unlocked the door for the handicapped stall and I slipped inside. There stood a most amazing sight.
This young man was maybe five foot, six or seven inches tall. He seemed Mexican on first glance, but I'd have to reconsider that as "Mediterranean" ... he was sweetly swarthy, with curly dark brown hair and a solid build. He was wearing shorts with their cuffs near his knees and in his hand was offering me a most amazing erection.
It was straight as an arrow, torpedo-shaped, circumcised and faultless, growing out of a curly bush ... and damn near eight inches long. Not so big around to gag a man, but long enough to make it difficult to get the whole thing down my throat, I just wanted to drop to my knees and give this boy "head" till both of us were exhausted from the fight.
I followed my impulses and, smiling at him, dropped to my knees and began sucking. Kissing my way down the shaft, fairly quickly I had the first five or six inches engulphed, but I had trouble getting the last inch or so into my mouth.
There was no odor, nothing offensive, he just smiled and enjoyed it, patting my head once gently. The outside door scraped and he flinched. I grabbed his hips and held him to the spot. His back was toward the door of the stall (as if he were pissing into the commode) and I was kneeling along side the throne. Had anyone looked through the crack they would have seen his back and nothing more (he was close enough to block their view of me on my knees). But my boy was edgy.
Pretty soon another person came into the restroom, and the boy pulled out and zipped up quickly and left the stall. He stopped momentarily at the sinks and left the restroom. It was then I noticed there were shoes showing under the wall in the next stall.
I stood up, dropped my pants, and sat on the commode and pushed out the bowel movement I had originally come to dispose of. I tapped my foot several times to see if the guy in the next stall was a player or not. There was no response.
Eventually someone at the urinals flushed their vessel, and then the guy in the next stall followed suit. As he was leaving the room, my boy was back.
He looked into the mirrors to see if I was still in the stall and then stepped back and motioned for me to unlock the door and let him back in. In seconds, he was turned around and facing me. He had dropped his shorts and boxers and was stroking a now-soft handful. I whispered, "I'll get it up. Don't worry about it," and dropped to my knees to begin sucking him again.
I drew the entire thing into my mouth and worked over the head, up and down the shaft, and sucked ... they tell me I do wonders with my tongue ... whatever, I used my tongue the way I know feels best. He sighed and reached his hand down to begin playing with my left nipple. I pushed my right hand up under his shirt and wife-beater and began tweaking his nipples, too.
He whispered hoarsely, "Damn that tongue feels good." And then, "I'm gonna cum if you keep that up." And then, "Oh yes, I'm gonna cum ... uhh ... uhh."
And the pulsing in my mouth signaled a mild explosion (and expulsion) of soft and damp seed into the back of my mouth and down my throat. I backed off a little to work primarily on his glans and he jerked, grabbing the base of his cock, and started to pull away. But I reached up his legs and pulled his ass forward and sucked the whole thing back into my throat, rolling my tongue, sucking the last drops free.
He twitched twice (in his cock and with his legs) and then, sighing heavily, he pulled back and smiled down at me. I reached up and put my hand over his cock and balls and said, "You're beautiful, man." And he began tucking himself into his shorts.
As I stood, I asked what brought him to town ... "school," he said ...
"College?" I wondered. He nodded.
"Any chance we can get together again?" I asked.
"Leaving the area in a few days," he shrugged, "Don't know ... probably not."
"I'm really sorry we can't meet again," I said, "How old are you, anyway?"
"Twenty," he looked down (almost shy).
Zipped up, the bulge of his cock still filled his shorts and pressed out a good inch or so from the button on his pants. I put my hand over it and squeezed, "Feels like you could go another round."
He giggled, "Gotta go now." And then, as he opened the stall door, he turned and said, "Hey, thanks ... it was great."
And he was gone.