A Room With A View

I was watching my friend taking a piss in the next cubicle. He knew that someone was watching (the glory-hole gave that away), and he was putting on a pretty good show for his anonymous admirer. Angling himself just right, pushing his jeans down to his knees for a full display, making himself semi-hard while he handled his beautiful, cut tool, all the while aiming his pale yellow stream into the bowl. Perfect.

He often stopped off at this bar on his way home from working on various building sites around town, and I’d wondered if he might be here. I hadn’t seen him for a while and took a punt on finding him, always happy to be in his good natured and handsome company.

I couldn’t see him amongst the crowd when I first came in, and needing to take a leak I headed for the toilet before ordering a drink. That’s when I saw him disappearing into one of the cubicles that lined the wall opposite the urinal, which at that time of day looked like a busy train platform in peak-hour Tokyo.

Ducking into the stall next to his it didn’t take me long (roughly 2.5 seconds) to spot the ubiquitous hole at waist level gouged through the adjoining partition. I instantly bent down to take a peek and saw him standing directly in front of my face, rubbing the front of his jeans for whoever had suddenly occupied the neighbouring stall. 

His large, calloused hands were a sight to behold as they massaged the prominent bulge of his crotch before slowly unfastening his heavy belt buckle and beginning the provocative ritual of popping the buttons on his fly, stud by stud, agonisingly slowly. 

He stepped up close to the wall and positioned his groin against the hole, which was just big enough to allow me to undo a couple more of the buttons and push my nose against the mound of his cock, hidden in the folds of his damp, stained y-fronts. I inhaled deeply as he pushed himself harder against me, clearly enjoying my enjoyment.

Stepping back he opened the front of his denims and slid a hand into his undies, wrestling with his tool before bringing it out and stepping across to the bowl for the next stage of the performance. 

He pushed his jeans down and settled them just above his knees, pulling up his shirt to display his hairy butt, which I had long dreamt of. His fleshy balls were covered in fur as well, and he played with them momentarily (for my amusement I like to think), before allowing them to swing heavy and free.

When his flow started it was strong and pungent, and I imagined I could smell its sharp scent from my hiding place. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and farted, laughing at his own surprise, while his piss splashed noisily into the bowl. I could feel my cock pressing uncomfortably against my fly and fumbled clumsily with my pants to release it, slippery and threatening to shoot.

I massaged myself slowly, carefully, not wanting to cum until the show was over. I was transfixed as he moved his fingers into his piss stream, covering them in his warm water before sticking them through the hole for me to lick clean, which I did, running my tongue over his rough, hard knuckles, savouring the sharp, salty taste of his piss and the earthy grime of his day.

After what seemed like an age his pissing slowed and then stopped. He didn’t shake off the remaining drops, preferring to push his cock through the hole and into my waiting mouth. I tickled his wet slit with the tip of my tongue, dislodging a droplet of piss, or was it precum? Maybe both. He’d kept a couple of salty shots back which he let loose, slightly bitter like the beer I know he loves at the end of a long day. He chuckled as he felt me gulp them down thirstily. 

My eager attentions had made him stiff and his cock was now fully erect. He must have been pressed hard up against the partition as I could feel his thick wiry bush against my lips as I ate his shaft, not quite gagging as it pressed against the back of my throat insistently. My tongue was all over his warm, meaty prick, paying special attention to the taut cord of his frenulum, feeling it hum, forcing large globules of precum from the engorged knob.

He came suddenly, without warning, and my mouth was flooded with his sweet jizz, filling my cheeks as I attempted to gulp it all down. Feeling his cock spasm again and again I sucked him with increased fervour, sensing him through the wall pressing his groin desperately against the hole, intent on keeping himself in my mouth as he unloaded his delicious spunk, which overflowed and dribbled down my chin despite my best efforts to swallow it all.

I came as well at that moment, almost an afterthought given the pleasure my mouth was experiencing. My spurts hit the wall, leaving a series of slimey trails down the already stained partition. 

I didn’t want to let his cock slip from my mouth, even though his orgasm was well and truly done. I could feel his rod rapidly softening, and he mercifully allowed me to continue holding it gently for a few moments longer before pulling back, my lips possessively holding on for a couple more seconds before relinquishing the beautiful prize.

I watched through the hole as he pulled his jeans up and tucked his now spent penis back into his undies, carefully buttoning the fly before tightening his belt and making ready to depart. Turning to the door he let a few fingers rest on the hole, and I touched them affectionately before he withdrew and was gone. 

Standing up I grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned my own messy prick before taking the leak I’d originally come in for. Zipping up and making ready to leave, I looked at my spunk slowly dribbling down the wall and decided to leave it there, all part of the story.

Back in the bar I saw him ordering a beer and wondered if I should just sneak out, but that seemed like a sorry ending. Squeezing myself in beside him I feigned surprise at seeing him there and he happily bought me a beer, putting his arm around my shoulders as we jostled past the other patrons and made for a free table. 

We talked amiably about this and that as we drank our beers. Still feeling flushed I was thankful for the dim lighting in the corner, and I blushed scarlet when he leant across and casually wiped a smudge off my chin, little realising that it was his own spunk drying there.