Gruntiebum Love: A True memoir

I forget when and where this happened. It was long ago and “the only one.”

I was cruising a men’s room on a muggy summer day. It might have been in a local department store. One guy was sitting in the next to the last stall. The stalls had doors, but I could see his pants were down to his ankles, white briefs bunched together, showing a pair of slender, muscular legs dark with hair. He wore sandals. Italian, I thought.

I entered the last stall, bolted the door, and lowered my khakis and boxers. I was looking forward to some quick action. But as soon as my bare bottom settled on the rim, I cut a loud and unexpected fart, a blast my neighbor easily heard. Then, again to my surprise, my bowels began moving and I let a soft snakelike grunt plop into the toilet. I was embarrassed as hell, my ears burning and anus twitching.

The Italian would never guess I was gay now. I wiped my bare bottom and waited, shifted my foot, stared at his feet. Silence, stillness. Then, gradually, he strained and gasped and then three heavy bombs splashed from his bum into the bowl. He was “doing grunties” too! Wow. I hoped he’d do a “gassie,” but his crack was completely quiet. He emitted a big sigh and spun the roll of toilet paper, gave himself a very inadequate wiping. More silence.

Side-by-side, we sat--bare, with our unflushed grunts floating. Then, slowly, his belt buckle began scraping the file floor; he squirmed on the seat; he moaned; the shadows told a lot. He was jacking off.  

I tapped my foot. In a flash, he knelt under the partition, exposing his thick, hard “hog.” I followed, boner wagging. We pushed our bodies together so that my tightening balls rested on his solid, hairy thigh. He jacked my hog and my hole opened and I wanted him to finger my rectum, deep--the way I wanted to finger his--but we’d just done grunties and both our bummies were rank, dirty.

I shot a hot ropy load onto the cold bathroom floor and coaxed a puddle just as big out of him. “Thanks,” I panted. I think he fled before I ever saw his face. It was the only spontaneous buddy dump/JO I ever had.

Now I have a name for this. I call it “gruntiebumlove.”

END