I was at college as a mature student; mature being twenty seven. Actually it was only one day a week for a year and my employer was paying for the course. It got me out of the office and into a completely different environment. The college catered for students of all ages, most were late teens, early twenties, and of all races. This was in South London so there was a huge variety of nationalities attending there. My class was made up of other mature students, mostly married and boring but there was one guy who stood out from the rest.
His name was Jakob, which I first thought was German but he turned out to be Polish. He had been born in London, moved back to Poland and then returned to London to work and study for his diploma, sponsored, like me, by his firm of builders. He was nineteen, a bit shy and straight. I learned this in the cafeteria during our second week. By the end of the first term I had learned very little else about him, except that he kept himself to himself, never stayed after class for a drink, and disappeared every lunchtime for about half an hour. I never knew where he went but, as I started to become more interested in him I decided that I would make it my duty to find out.
Our second term started in the spring and by this time some of the class had dropped out. There were only twelve of us but I was pleased to see that Jakob had returned. The first week back I tried to make conversation with him and made sure I moved from my usual desk to the one beside him so that I would have more opportunities to talk to him. From this new position I could also glance at him more often. But he remained quiet and secretive and we got no further than hello and good bye.
During one lecture, a particularly boring one about health and safety regulations, I noticed that he had something hidden in his folder. He had the folder standing up on the desk in front of him so that the lecturer could not see that he was thumbing through the magazine that was hidden inside. From my place next to him I could quite clearly see that it was a magazine full of hard-core pictures of guys and women getting down to some heavy sex. As he turned the pages he looked up, as if he was listening to the lecture, and then would pretend to write something down. He was actually just doodling, but he was giving the appearance of being an attentive student.
I rested my elbow on my desk, propped up my head in my hand and pretended that I was also making notes. What I was actually doing was giving myself an uninterrupted view of Jakob, and particularly the front of his trousers. He wore combat style army pants, tight around the crotch and top of the legs with baggy pockets on the sides. They hugged his slim waist nicely and helped to define the bulge at the front. The bulge was not huge, Jakob himself was only about five feet seven tall and a bit scrawny to be honest, but what he lacked in physique he made up for in looks. Smooth skin, short black hair and wide, deep eyes that grew larger as he continued to gawp at his porno mag as if he'd never seen one before. And the more he gawped the more the front of his trousers grew. He shifted his position, bringing one leg up and resting his ankle on his knee.
The lecturer was asking a question and, for a moment, I was distracted. I answered him and then wrote something down. When I looked back to the lad next door I caught him pulling his hand away from the front of his trousers, having just adjusted himself. I could clearly see the outline of his cock pressing firm against the light material of his combat trousers now. It was lying to one side, reaching almost to a pocket and beneath it his balls were making a nice, round bulge. I wanted to stop time, if it were only possible, get down on my knees and unzip those combats to take hold of the meat that was straining to be let out. But the lesson dragged on, after a while Jakob put his magazine away and paid attention. And after what seemed like an eternity, the lecture finished and we were let out for lunch.
I noticed that he kept his folder, complete with hidden magazine, under his arm as he left the room. The rest of the class turned right, towards the canteen, but Jakob turned left. This, I decided, was going to be the day I discovered where he went. I followed at a reasonable distance, my eyes fixed firmly on the small rounds of his arse. My own cock was still recovering from the unexpected turn on before, the front of my briefs was slightly damp and my own balls felt swollen. Once I found out where he went I was going to find a cubicle somewhere and jack off while the images of him were still fresh in my mind.
At the end of the corridor he turned left again and climbed the stairs. Other students were coming down in hoards, making their way to lunch before all the tables were taken, but Jakob ignored them. He knew where he was going and nothing was getting in his way. He climbed two floors to the library and went in. Maybe he was just an avid reader? Maybe he took his porn to the quiet recesses of the library to jack off under the table?
The library was all but deserted. Someone was at work behind the reception desk and someone else was studying over by the windows. I paused, pretended I'd forgotten what I had come in for, waited to see where Jakob went, and then followed him again. He disappeared behind the furthest row of shelves and, by the time I got there, had vanished completely. This was a new part of the college to me. I'd never been in the library before; if I needed books I bought them.
There was only one place he could have gone; through a door showing a sign for 'Gents'. Of course! He came up here to the back of beyond to wank himself over his straight porn. Maybe he couldn't do it at home with his parents around? Whatever the reason I was glad he chose somewhere out of the way. The toilets were silent inside. Three cubicles lined one wall and beside them was one long, steel trough. A couple of old sinks stood opposite and one, high up window, was shut and dirty. The door to the furthest cubicle was closed and the other two open so I guessed he must already have been inside. I slipped into the middle one and was relived to see that it locked.
But now what was I going to do? I heard the rustle of pages next door and knew that he was in there already flicking through his pictures. I looked at the cubicle walls and realised that this was the place to come when you wanted to cum. The graffiti bore testament to many a horny, frustrated student. Apart from the crude drawings of spurting cocks and hairy balls, apart from the mobile phone numbers and the dates to meet there was a huge variety of one-liners. 'I want to suck your cock.' 'Just had a new lad in here, only 17, huge prick.' 'Fuck my arse in tights and panties.' To mention a few.
I sat down and pressed my ear to the thin, plasterboard wall to hear better the sounds from next door. And that is when I noticed the glory hole. It had been gouged out, the edges smoothed off in an almost professional way and then covered with a piece of tissue. I blew on it, the tissue fell away and I could see the floor of the cubicle next door. Resting on the floor was a pair of feet in black boots. Scrunched up around them were a pair of green combat trousers and a pair of white boxer shorts. I leaned further forward and could see his legs, smooth, almost hairless and, resting on them, his magazine.
I don't know if he had noticed me then, he must have heard me come it but he didn't stop what he was doing. I could see that his right hand was holding the magazine but I could see no more. The cover was hiding his other hand and the youthful cock he must have been fisting in it. But this view was enough. My cock was hardening and needed to be let out. I stood, took a risk but didn't care. I stood facing the wall so that if he looked through the hole he would see me, and I slowly unzipped my jeans. I made sure my belt buckle rattled as I undid it and then slowly slid my own trousers down to the floor. I stood up straight again and fondled my stiffening cock through my shorts, if he was watching me he would get a good show. I pulled the waistband down a little to reveal some of my hairy bush and cupped my balls through the material of the shorts. My six inches was tenting out at the front and when I pulled my shorts down further it slapped out to freedom, the head damp and sticky, the skin pulled right back. I stood there, wrapping my fist around my bollocks and just showing everything. Everything hard, hairy and ready for action.
And then I stood back a little and crouched down onto my haunches. Time to see what he was up to. My face came level with the hole just as he stood up. I saw his smooth skinned thighs, a neat bush of black hair set against a white, flat stomach and a slender, young piece of flesh hanging semi-hard over a hairless, wrinkled sack. So this is what a nineteen year old Polish cock looked like. I wanted to know how it tasted. He was showing it to me proudly and with no shyness now. And he took a step closer.
The pink tip came through the hole, circumcised and glistening and, after a moment's manipulation his cute ball sack was through, framed by the wall, just lying there waiting for me. I lent forward, breathed in the scent of his groin and blew gently on the tip of his penis. It twitched, I licked the pre-cum with my tongue and it twitched again. Slowly I ran my tongue along the shaft until it played around his short hairs, then back along underneath until the rim of his tip rested on my bottom teeth. I closed my lips carefully around it, formed them into a circle and held him there while my tongue darted and jabbed at his cock head. Within seconds he was fully hard. I slid him in so very slowly, savouring the smoothness, the feel of his warm flesh against my lips, until my nose was into his bush and my head was against the wall. I sucked and then slid back, my tongue pressed firmly against the underside of the youthful meat. Again I rested his head on my teeth and sucked in the juice that was starting to escape.
I put one hand around his balls, cupped them and rolled them around in my palm as I went down again, still slowly, still teasing him. I heard a slight moan as I took his whole length to the back of my throat, and another when I released him and started licking his ball sack. I longed for the wall to disappear, so that I could wrap my arms around his slim waist and feel the firmness of his tight arse in my large hands. I wanted to turn him around, burry my face in his crack and show him what other pleasures men could endure with men. But I was also content to taste his young sack, feel his hardness against my face and breathe in the scent of lad sweat as I worked his bollocks with my tongue.
And then he was pulling away, his cock slipped back through the hole and I saw him crouch down. Immediately I stood up, fed my own meat through the hole and pressed myself up against the cold, hard wall. I felt a hand stroke along my shaft as if it didn't know what to do with it. Fingers lightly played the full length, turned my cock head inquisitively and then ran through my manly bush of coarse hair. I felt his other hand take my ball sack and roll it, as I had done to him. And then I felt the first breath of warm air against my cock. Soft lips tentatively touched my throbbing end. A wet, soft tongue licked me there and then my shaft was surrounded by heat. I wished I could have held his head, felt his soft, dark hair in my grip as I pushed myself in. But with the wall between us he was now in control. He kept on at my balls as he went down, drawing me in further until I could feel the back of his throat resist against the meat that was trying to get in deeper. I heard him gag, felt him pull back, and then he tried again. As soon as I felt his lips dampen my hair I knew he had taken all of me. His squeezing on my balls quickened and his mouth closed tighter around me.
He pulled back quickly, I felt cold air on my cock head for a second and then it was hot again, plunged to the back of his throat in one deft movement. Again it was released, and again covered as he took me in, drew back, took me in and then drew back again. He was sliding his throat up and down my shaft in a faster rhythm now, feasting on it as if he'd never tasted a man before and this was his only chance. Eagerly he grabbed and pulled at my tightening balls as his mouth worked up and down my shaft. I knew I would not be able to endure this for long. My cock had fattened, somewhere inside I felt the first stirrings and my cock head started to tingle. I wanted to warn him but there was no way. I tried to pull back, I wanted to taste him again, I wanted this to last for a long time, but he had me held fast with his keen, young mouth.
He was beating down on me, using his mouth to wank me off. His mouth felt like a strong, powerful hand pumping my meat as he swallowed me, sucked, slid me out and dived on me again. I clawed at the wall, pushed myself back so that my cock was thrust as deep into him as it could go. I could see the rough graffiti, read the vulgar words, 'I want to cum in a cute student's mouth.' 'Straight student wants to taste man cock.'
You're gunna taste it now. My balls were filled, my cock gorged and scraping against his teeth as he gagged on me. But still he took me in. I pushed as far into him as I could go, and my legs tensed. I grabbed my solid arse cheeks with both hands, and pressed myself as close to the wall as I could. And erupted. My hips jolted in spasm, my cock burned inside his throat and grew hotter as I felt my cum shoot into him and slash back around my shaft. As soon as it started he dived down on me, buried his face into me and held my cock as far in his mouth as he could get it. I shot again, his tongue stroked against my pumping shaft and his fingernails dug into my bollocks. I felt him swallow, the friction of his tight throat on my cock head sent another wave through me and I spurted more juice into his straight gullet. He kept me in his mouth as I gasped and twitched to stillness, licking my cock and draining it of its last drop of cum, drinking me in, drinking me down and dry. Until I could tolerate it no more and I pulled back.
He let me go and I slipped my glistening, wet cock back through the hole. I squatted down again, ready to reciprocate, keen to give him the same treatment. He stood up. I licked my lips to get them moist and waited to receive his young tool. But he just stood there, his cock hanging semi-lip, a dribble of cum hanging from its head. It was a gorgeous, smooth piece of meat that I had tasted only briefly and now may never taste again. It was too late. He had cum while blowing me. He was showing me the effect my cock had had on him.
I put a finger through, beckoned him closer and, when he did put his flaccid cock up against the hole I just took it in my mouth and held it there for a while. And then I let him go. Heard him do up his combat trousers and leave the cubicle. I dried myself off and did the same.
When I stepped back into the enforced silence of the library I saw him walking away. He stopped at the door, turned around and looked at me. I sat at a table, pretending to glance over a newspaper. After a few seconds he came back and stood in front of me. He lent down.
'Will you tell anyone?' he said nervously.
I shook my head. 'Of course I won't,' I reassured him.
'Thanks. See you next week in class then.'
He stood up and turned. Where his hand had rested on the table was now a piece of paper. I unfolded it.
'Straight student wants to taste man cock.' It read. And underneath this a mobile phone number and another line: 'In case you can't wait until next week.'