I love highway reststops. While traveling I love to stop at them even if I don't have to take a piss. I love sitting down in one of the public stalls and reading the graffiti. I get a thrill using the urinals, my dick hanging out, a stranger's dick hanging out next to me. I take my time at reststops. Pretending to wash my hands over and over waiting to see who comes in. Waiting for everyone to leave. When the restroom is empty, even sometimes when it's not, I love to sit in the stall and jack off. I love to think of all the men who have done the same thing in that same stall. I love highway reststops.
It was past midnight, on a Tuesday morning, and I was driving down the interstate, when I saw the sign reading, "Rest Stop 3 miles." I got an erection in anticipation. I knew what was coming. A few days before I had driven down this same interstate and had seen this same sign. I had visited the rest stop and had visited a stall. I had pulled down my pants, pulled out my cock and started scanning the graffiti. Typical stall wall stuff: phone numbers, names, jokes, drawings, and something that caught my eye. A message scrawled in pen. "I love to Fuck" followed by a date and time. That date was today.
I pulled into the rest stop and scanned the parking lot. One car, and a twenty or so semis. I got out of my car and slowly walked to the men's room, expectant and aroused. I pulled open the door. I walked in. The smell was familiar. I walked over to one of two urinals and unbuttoned my fly. I pulled down my briefs and bent my semi- erect cock into the urinal and sent out a small stream of piss. I flushed, and backed away. I walked over to the two stalls. I checked the first one. Empty. I walked over to the second one and stepped inside. I sat on the toilet seat and shut the door. "I love to Fuck," followed by today's date and a time. Only a minute away. I closed my eyes in anticipation. Sweat formed in my armpits. I looked around the stall, saw other dates from months, years ago. I thought about all the men who had met in this stall. I looked at the brown tile on the floor. Looked at the piss stains at the base of the toilet. Looked at the shit stains on the wall. Looked at the hair stuck between the tiles, with cigarette butts and bits of toilet paper. I looked at my watch. The time was now. The time passed slowly. My cock was throbbing. My balls ached. My heart was pounding.
I heard a knock. And a voice. A deep voice, saying, "I love to fuck." I opened the door. "Me too."
He was big. A good half of foot taller then me, and probably 60 pounds heavier. He had a full scraggly beard and was slightly balding. He was wearing dark blue jeans, sneakers, and a red flannel. He was not physically attractive. He looked at me and sort of smiled, sort of sneered. I wasn't who he was expecting. Me, cleancut and innocent. A sissy city boy. He approached with out saying anything. Reached for my shoulder and pulled me up. He wrapped is arm around me and pulled me in. His other hand reached for my crotch and gave a rough tug. He kicked the door shut and pushed me into the stall wall. He pressed his heavy body against mine with force and began unbuttoning his flannel.
His furry, round belly burst out of from the shirt, his wide, rough chest heaving as he laughed heartily. He pushed my head back and kissed me ferociously. His beard scratched my face, his tongue felt my lips. He tore at my pants. My belt was gone in a moment. He picked me up and threw me down on the toilet seat, almost causing me to fall in. I began to untie my shoes, as he started to unbutton my shirt. "What if someone walks in?" I murmured. He laughed again and responded, "A few buddies are watching out at the door for me." He flung my shirt on the floor next to his. He sat on my lap and again kissed me, his arms bracing me in a bear hug. Sweat ran from his arms onto mine, the smell of men hanging in the air. He pulled his head from mine and then pulled my head onto his crotch. He pulled off his jeans and I felt a bulge in his Hanes with my face. I reached forward with my hands to grab at him, at any part of him, but he pushed me away with a grunt. He ripped off his underwear and pulled my head into his crotch again before I got a good look at his goods. He rubbed his nuts against my chin, I gasped for air and got a mouth full of his bush. His cock rubbed on my forehead, through my hair, over my ear, barely missing my eye socket. I gasped again and he pulled me up.
He backed away and let me up off the toilet. I caught my breath and looked at him from neck to toe. A large mass of hair and sweat. Everything about him was huge. I stood completely still. He sensed my hesitation. He turned around and unlocked the stall. He exited, still completely bare, shutting the stall door behind him. I locked the stall and sat back down on the stool, stunned. I heard the restroom door opening, followed by a series of hoots. At least 3 separate voices, maybe four. I heard conversation and then the door close again. I got up and slowly walked to the stall door. I took a breath and unlocked it. He was waiting for me. The door flew open with the same force he had used before. He sneered at me and then slammed me into the toilet, causing it to flush. He tugged at my pants, as I lay stunned. I felt my pants fall off my feet and then his hand grabbing my sac. He pulled, and I felt my briefs fall off my feet. I felt his mouth on my cock, his beard on my thigh, his hands on my shoulders pulling me to the ground beside him on the cramped floor. Two naked men, where two naked men should not be. He crawled on top of me and pounded his body onto mine. He rolled over and sat up. I saw his back, as hairy as his chest, and pulled him back down, my prick now inches from his asshole. I grabbed his belly, pulling our bodies close. I felt his belly give a big a laugh, even before I heard it. He reached behind me and grabbed my arm, lifting me up. He pressed me into the concrete side of the stall and took a long look at my not so long cock. "Is that all you got?" he asked and laughed again. I sat there for a moment stunned and then did the only thing I could think to do. I sat down on the toilet seat and took a crap, while he watched. He stood over me, towering, to get a better look. He bent over and pulled out a length of toilet paper, and then reached beneath me to wipe my ass. I remained silent. He told me to stand up so he could inspect his work. I heard him spit into his hand several times, and then felt his hand again at my ass, slimy and warm. His kept his fingers running up and down my crack and then I felt one enter. Felt another one. I gasped in pleasured. He kept his fingers working and I fell to my knees in ecstasy, pulling his fingers from my ass. I looked up at him and smiled. "I've never done anything like this before." He sneered and said, "I can tell. Are you ready to fuck or what?" He reached behind him, where our pile of clothes lay, and searched through my pockets. He picked up my wallet and looked at the drivers license, laughing. He looked through my wallet and slipped out the condom I always keep, just in case. He put the wallet back and said, "I knew you'd be prepared." He started unwrapping the condom. I wondered if it would fit him. "I've got KY in my other pocket." He started to laugh and slipped the condom on. It was a tight fit. He bent me over the toilet and spread my ass open. I did my best to relax it, but knew what was coming. I felt the tip of his covered dick at the top of my asshole, pushing and prodding. And then he was inside me. I haven't felt that much pain since I lost my virginity. Once his cock was fully in he started ramming away panting, his hands running over my back. He let out a loud holler, which was followed by a group of hollers from outside. I heard the outside door opened, and then he yelled, "Get the hell away, I'm busy," followed by different laughs.
The pain was intense but once I got over it, the pleasure was even more intense. His hands found their way off my back and onto my chest lifting me up. With his waist still pumping, he pushed me into the wall. I felt each pump know, as if it was my own. My cock rubbing against the smooth, cold wall of the stall. A few seconds was all it took. I exploded over the wall, covering the graffiti with graffiti of my own. He laughed and called me a pansy, but it was long after that he creamed too. His breaths and his pumps getting harder and faster.
I sat, crumpled, on the toilet, my cock limp and drained, for a few minutes after he left. I didn't want to face his friends. He left without a word. Just slipped off soggy condom, flushed it down the toilet, grabbed his clothes and left. After I was sure he was gone, I slipped on my own clothes, stained with urine from the floor, and slipped a pen out of my pockets. I went to the wall, now covered with my ejaculate, and wrote in big letters, "I love to fuck."