Do you ever wonder just how much jacking off goes on in a men's
restroom? I decided to find out a few years ago when I found a stall
which had the toilet paper holder removed--leaving four neat little drill
holes pointed just where all the interesting stuff happens.
This stall is located in the only men's room in a branch of a very
famous library up north. I went in there originally for the usual reasons
someone goes into such a place, made my myself as comfortable as I could
under the circumstances, and noticed with some irritation that there was
no toilet paper holder. Then I noticed these holes. More out of a wish
to see if someone was spying on my than a wish to spy on someone else, I
took a peep in.
What I saw was a smallish but perfectly formed penis, sticking
straight into the air, framed in the peephole as squarely as if it were
posing for a picture. The guy to whom it was attached wasn't touching it,
it was just standing there at attention, so he must have been just looking
at it, too. At this point my own reason for being in there was over, so I
laughed it off as a curiosity and split before this guy starting looking
at me himself.
When I got home, however, I started thinking about it. I've been
known to relieve myself in the men's room a few times, and I started
wondering how other guys do it. And what else goes on when the stall door
gets closed?
The next time I was in that library I budgeted a bit more "study
time" and went back to the stall. I got nervous, because I wondered
whether or not anyone noticed that I went in there at one time and still
hadn't come out 30 minutes later. It was difficult to be patient, but
there was a certain thrill--the voyeur's instinct--in waiting for
something you know you were never meant to see. Several guys came in,
several guys came out. There was also a small hole in the front of the
stall and I could see several people at the urinals--one guy wiggled it a
bit, but nothing much happened. I gave up and came back again the next
day.
After only about a five-minute wait, this guy came in there only
to jack off, and he got right to business. I don't know what he was
reading in the library, but he was already hard when he dropped 'em. His
dick was thinner than the ones I had seen and uncut. I had never seen
someone uncut jack off before, and I thought it was pretty gross. The
head of his penis seemed to poke in and out of it's little hood, and he
had this habit of stretching his skin way over the top of his dick and
letting it snap back. Ouch! I had trouble not snickering and giving it
all away. What amazed me was the vigor and almost violence with which he
jacked himself off. I mean, his hand was nothing but a blur as he pumped
that skinny dick up and down. He had a big wad of toilet paper in the
other hand waiting to keep his pants clean. I didn't see him cum because
he moved out of my sight range, and I had lost interest by then anyway.
I was about to leave fairly disgusted at him and myself when I
heard someone else coming down the stairs and thought I would give it one
more try. This guy was taking his time, doing what you are supposed to do
in a bathroom stall, then seemed to start poking around at himself almost
as an afterthought. He picked up his limp penis and slowly massaged it
into shape. I had never seen another man grow into an erection before,
and it was interesting to watch. He had a fine piece of equipment, I must
say. Average size, but very nicely shaped and smooth skin. The head of
his penis was very sleek and almost shiny, and his shaft was just exactly
the size of his hand's grip. He started slowly pumping the base of his
dick, leaving me a perfect view of how his head swelled and contracted
with the level of his arousal. He was in no hurry, unlike the last guy I
saw. As a was crouched over looking into the tiny hole, I found myself
for the first time starting to stroke my own growing penis. I had never
had an erection from watching another man before, and I was both
embarrassed and excited to see how far it would take me. After all, I
could see him but no one could see me.
He paused a moment to get a big handful of toilet paper, and then
I started to match his movements on my own body. When he stroked fast, so
did I. When he slowed down to draw it out, so did I. I couldn't see my
own performance while I was watching his, so I had this strange sensation
of watching myself in a forbidden mirror. This guy's dick was only about
10 inches from my eyes, closer than I had ever seen anyone else and closer
than I had ever seen myself (especially from this impossible angle). I
found it more arousing than I would have imagined, especially based upon
my disgusted reactions at the other guys I had seen. My friend here
finally decided to make himself cum, and at this point I left myself alone
so I could watch. He stroked the full length of his dick faster and
faster then buried the head into his wad of toilet paper. He gave a small
grunt which I could barely hear next door. I could see his whole penis
twitching with every spurt. When he finally pulled away there was a small
line of cum between his dick and the paper, and the head of his penis was
wet with the ivory-colored cum he had spread on himself. I thought this
would be a big turn-off, but it was actually rather elegant to see someone
jack themselves off with a certain amount of grace and self-respect. His
cum seemed to be a real reward, not just some inconvenient goo you have to
take care of before you can leave. I finished myself off after he had
left, thinking back on what I had seen, and trying again to match his
method pace by pace in a kind of delayed simultaneous orgasm.
The next time I went there I was determined to put on a show for
someone else. But that's another (completely true) story for another
time, perhaps.