The urinal in this story is in one of the beach cities, south of Los Angeles. I happen to live here because it is where the last guy who gave me a ride dumped me off on my hitchhiking trip from Cheyenne, Wyoming to the Pacific Ocean. I make a meager living as a bus boy in a 24-hour fast-food restaurant and have a room, if you can imagine it, converted from a garage with toilet and laundry privileges in the house of an old homo that owns the property. The rent is dirt cheap but I have to give him head once a week as part of our rent agreement. By the way, in case any of you reading this story are either into boys or size queens, I am 18 years old and blessed with a big cock - a fat 7 inches. But I want you to know I am not some unkempt street person, Since I've been in California I've met some other hung dudes and they're all cocksuckers. I've kind of wondered about that. You'd think a guy that was hung heavy would be into fucking ass, wouldn't you?
But, I'm happy. I suck a lot of cock. That's why I came to California. In high school in Wyoming, I was smart enough to realize that I knew a little about a lot of things but not a lot about any of them. And, somewhere along the line I also realized that I was gay - I liked boys. I liked boys because they had cocks. I didn't like girls because they didn't have cocks - it was that simple. Too, I knew I better get the hell out of there as soon as I graduated because, sooner or later - probably sooner - my dad would beat the shit out of me five seconds after he found out I was a queer. My mom, on the other hand was really an OK person but I never came out to her, either. No guts!
A gay or a married man, who isn't getting enough to satisfy him at home and needs some oral loving, is hard to find in Wyoming. Then for nine months out of the year, it's too fucking cold there to even get it up - unless you're a teenager. Teenagers always have a hard on, it seems.
I work from Midnight to 8AM and get some sleep between 8AM and 4PM. This gives me a period from 4PM to Midnight to suck cocks in a public toilet in a park down by the beach and just off a semi-major road, that runs parallel to and a block from the ocean - lots of traffic - it's known as a place to get a quickie on your way home. I don't go and sit 8 hours in there at one stretch; I sleep some and frequent the place during the times I've learned are most active.
The park is fairly large but the toilet is a very short walk from the parking area. There is also a library in the park. The beach access for swimming is down the road about 2 blocks, so no swimsuit- clad clientele is involved. When you enter the toilet through the door at the long end of the room, there are 5 stalls, all without doors, along the right side of the room. Washbasins and a urinal are on the left wall. The urinal is down at the end of the room, beyond the washbasins.
The holes in the partitions between the stalls are small - useless for cocksucking, so, obviously, the best stalls for action are the two directly behind the urinal. The urinal, by the way, is a six- foot long, trough urinal that has a steady flow of water down the back; the water is rusty and stains the porcelain. The front edge is also eroded by rust (the damp, ocean climate, I guess).
I
If you're a cocksucker, I guess you know how the game is played. Guys come in, look up, down, left and right and occasionally turn their heads to see if they're being watched or what the guys in the stalls behind are doing. Sometimes guys are a little weird. Some will turn their bodies sideways to face the rear wall and jack themselves; I think these guys just like to be watched while they're jacking off. It took me a long time to figure this out, but I'm pretty sure I'm right.
But, if a guy turns around and just stands displaying his erection it means you're probably going to be sucking his meat in a few minutes.
The most difficult ones to get are the shy ones; they just stand there. They aren't pissing but you can see their right arm moving just enough that you're fairly sure they're playing with themselves. You know they want it but just don't know how to go about getting it. Fortunately I'm not shy, so I just pull up my pants, leaving the fly undone and my 7 inches sticking out of my pants and waddle up to the urinal. If I'd guessed right and they are jacking, I just take over and go down on them.
Sometimes, it's a busy scene and if you can't get the two prime stalls you need to have your pants around your ankles and jacking a hard-on when some guy comes in the door, in hopes he will fancy you and never make it to the urinal. Half of the guys who come in to get sucked off actually don't need to take a piss anyway.
I've sucked a lot of cock in there. Shit, who wouldn't if he spent almost 8 hours every day looking for it? So, now I'll tell you about those that I remember. Of course, they are the outstanding or the unusual that I remember.
But (and it is a big but) I guess I should tell you that I have competition. Between 6 and 8 o'clock in the evenings some asshole comes in and horns in on my clientele. He really pisses me off. I don't know why guys would choose him to get a blowjob. He has a miniscule dick and is as ugly as sin, but the guy, I assume, gives a good head job. One cold, rainy night I took a big cock away from him but I'll tell you about that later.
So, on with the story, a guy comes in with a book in his hand, either coming or going to the library. That was not unusual. What was unusual was that he was as nervous as a fucking whore in church. He looks around, takes a leak, goes to a washbasin and puts his book on the edge of the basin as he washes his hands, looks around and sees the paper towel dispensers are empty (of course they're empty, I'd pulled out all the towels and put them in the trash bin - I'll fish them out and put them on the washbasins when I'm ready to leave). So there is toilet paper in the all five stalls, but he comes to the only one occupied - the one where I'm sitting, drooling to get his cock in my mouth. He tall, skinny and well dressed for someone down in the beach area.
He walks over to my stall, with his big 7-inch hardon sticking out of his fly and asks if he can have some toilet paper. While he's unrolling it, I reach up, fish his balls out, suck his dick into my mouth and give him what he's been wanting all along. I knew he was desperate to get his rocks off. It didn't take as long as I would have liked to toss him off; I don't think he'd shot a load for weeks. It was fantastic
So much sweet, hot cum poured out of his piss slit and into my mouth that it damn near chocked me. He became one of my favorite regulars. Cocksuckers develop their favorites and customers develop their favorite cocksuckers, too. I believe you get used to a cock after a few times and you can really take care of it. That's very important. A cocksucker has to take care of his customer's meat, keep them coming back for more, give them what they're not getting at home, or better than they're getting at home.
Another time a dude named Kevin came in. I know his name because I asked and he told me. Shit, he was totally beautiful - his face, lips, everything about him. He was about 25, I'd guess. He didn't fuck around with playing games.
He just walked in and came directly into my stall, whipped out his big cock and offered it to me. He was the most hyper, yet the hottest guy I had ever seen. Being from Wyoming, I can't say I really understood him. He wasn't nervous like the guy with the book, but as I said - hyper.
Anyway, he fed me his big, erected meat but he was constantly going outside to check on things. He was really frantic about getting caught while he had his dick in a guy's mouth, or something. As I said, I didn't really understand him. He was making me so fucking frustrated. Finally he settled down, offered me some poppers, which he had to explain to me and told me, "It's all yours baby."
I did just what he told me. I didn't have to work too hard to get him to shoot a big load of cock juice.
I could go on forever, but I'm trying to be selective of my encounters, so I don't bore you.
As summer ended and everyone was settled down after vacations, the traffic from guys who worked in bigger towns along the coast north of here really increased. As I've explained, the urinal was known as a place to get a quickie. One of the best fucking nights I ever had was on one Thursday night when it seemed like everyone in the whole South Bay, as the area is called, had hot nuts that they wanted drained before they went home.
It was one time I was glad my competitor, the ugly guy with the small dick, happened to be in the toilet. Between the two of us we sucked off at least a dozen horned up dudes, a nice mix of black and white. What had made them so fucking horny, I didn't know but wondered if it was because there was a full moon; I'd heard or read, somewhere, that a full moon influenced the sex drives of men. Anyway, it was a night to remember. That night I deprived more wives and girlfriends of sweet cock juice than I ever had before. I bet the cunts didn't even suspect their men were getting their rocks off on their way home. But, why the fuck should I care. If I had cheated their cunts out of getting fucked by a big dick, so what, their cunts couldn't taste a cock load anyway. Well dressed businessmen on their way home from work often stopped in, but this was one of the craziest night's I'd ever seen at the urinal. Guys were actually in line waiting to stick their rods in a hot, pumping cocksucker's mouth.
The hottest experience I ever had in the place, though, was one winter night that had suddenly turned cold and rainy.
I dropped in about 8 o'clock in the evening. I walked in the toilet and my competitor was servicing the most handsome, blonde, blue-eyed dude I had ever seen in my life. He was about 6'- 6" tall, dressed in jeans and a heavy, waterproof jacket. I knew from his big boots that he'd spent the day on one of the fishing boats that operate out of the area - ones that take a whole bunch of men out for the whole day to fish - over a hundred fishermen on the same boat. My competitor, the ugly guy with the small dick, was chowing down on his cock, which was a whopper, 8" and fat, indescribably beautiful.
I wanted that cock so fucking bad that I was almost in tears. When I walked by the action stall, I whispered in his ear that I really wished his cock were in my mouth because I thought he was so beautiful. Then, he took me by surprise. He reached over, grabbed me and began to kiss me and whispered back, telling me to get my cock out. It was then that I realized that he was high on either drugs or alcohol.
I unzipped and got my cock out of my pants and he went down on it. Shit - he sucked too! After he'd sucked on it for a while, he told me to go to the rear stall (my usual cocksucker stall).He followed me, pants around his ankles, and as soon as I was on my knees he fed me cock like I'd never been fed cock before. Honestly, I didn't even need to suck - he literally fucked my mouth just like he'd fuck a pussy.
His cum wasn't sweet - the taste of a guy's cum depends somewhat on what he has recently been eating and drinking but I was ecstatic when he ejaculated down my throat. After all, thebiggest thrill for a boy sucking cock - especially a straight guys cock - is that he, in a forbidden way, employing his mouth as a surrogate pussy and if he is lucky will succeed getting a guy to shoot off his rocks just the same as the guy would have done fucking a woman.
I told him I had never seen him in the toilet before. He told me he lived in Orange County and rarely got over this way. The sad thing is that I never saw him again but I'll never forget him.
The most exciting thing I have to tell you about happened one night when another guy at the restaurant asked me if we could change shifts for one night - I'd work his 4PM to Midnight shift and he'd take my Midnight to 8:AM shift. I agreed and spent his whole shift hoping to fuck that he'd show up at midnight or I'd be working 16 hours without a break. Well he did show at 11:45. He was full of talk about what he'd done. He'd met this cunt about two weeks ago and tonight he'd gotten into her panties and had the best fuck he'd ever had in his life.
Well he had me so fucking horny talking about fucking his cunt that guess what I did? You know, don't you? That's right I didn't have the sense to go home; I went by the urinal. And, OMG, was I glad I did. It was September and the warmest part of the year in the LA area. I walked back to my stall and there was the hottest sight I'd ever seen in my life. A dude, about 6ft. tall, broad shoulders, protruding shoulder muscles and pecs, a washboard stomach - the whole fucking bit, was standing in the stall. He had the classic V shape and his body narrowed at the waist. (Later, when I got to see his butt, it was the hardest, slimmest butt I'd ever seen on a man. His thighs were well developed and his legs were hairy. His erect cock was fat but only about 5 inches. All the guy had on was a pair of rubber flip flops like guys wear at the beach. A pair of shorts and a T-shirt were thrown over the top of the stall.
He must have come right out of a bar. He was as drunk as a lord. He looked at me and said, "Help me."
I honestly didn't know exactly what he meant. I thought maybe he had a problem that he couldn't cope with being so drunk. Maybe he wanted me to call a cab for him or take him back to his car and drive him home. I asked him what kind of help he needed and asked him what his name was. He slurred out his name as John Logan and said, "Make me cum." He put his hand on the top of my head, pushing me down, as he talked.
What a beautiful time I had with his genitals. He was like a lot of guys who get drunk. They have a strong sexual urge but a difficult time getting off. I didn't mind. I knew his problem and totally enjoyed the task he had assigned me - "make me cum." When he did, he really did. It must have been intense as he bent forward and braced himself with both hands on top of the stall's partition.
He wanted to piss. When he got to the urinal, he again braced himself with both hands on the wall in back of the urinal and asked me to help him, saying he didn't want to piss on his self, so I held his cock as he pissed. Then I got him to sit on the toilet; I put his T-shirt back on and pulled his shorts up as far as I could get them with his being on the toilet.
Helping him to his car, I fished in his pockets and found his car keys. I told him I had a driver's license (I did have a Wyoming license) and asked him where he lived. He couldn't tell me how to get there but said to just go somewhere close where it's OK to park the night. I took him to a nearby, large apartment building that had surface parking on the side and around the back; parking was under metal roofed buildings. I found a stall way in the back corner of the concrete block enclosure wall. The worst that could happen was someone would make me move, but at this time of night I thought it was safe.
He was about to pass out, I knew, so I said, "Raise your butt off the seat."
"Why?"
"I want to take your shorts off so I can play with your cock?"
I didn't think he'd go for it but he raised his butt up and I worked his shorts down and over his feet. He wasn't wearing underwear, I already knew. That was his last conscious act and I did enjoy his cock, I enjoyed it until he woke up around 5 AM. I knew you could get a drunk's cock hard, but it was almost impossible to make it cum. But I had fun anyway, kissing him on the mouth, sucking on his cock. It would get hard, but the minute I stopped he'd go soft. That was OK, too. There was just enough light that I could see it, fondle his balls, and suck it again. I actually shot a load twice before he woke up. Both times I got off just looking at the guy. He was handsome and had the most perfect, most exciting body that I had ever seen.
When he did wake up he looked at me, saw the concrete block wall, got out and pissed on the wall. I told him how we happened to be together and what had taken place between us. He said he remembered some of it and was sorry he couldn't remember all of it as it sounded exciting. I asked him if he was able to drive and he said yes. I offered to leave him there, but he insisted on taking me home.
He asked me for my telephone number and I told him I didn't have one but told him where I worked and my hours. He promised to get together with me again, but it never happened.
Like the blond guy from the fishing boat, it was just another one- night stand. Oh well, I was only 18. Someday I'd find a guy who liked me enough to make me his friend.
THE END