I was driving for, what, five hours before I saw that the gas arrow was pointing to low. I pushed another thirty minutes, visiting parents who live in another state is a pain in the ass, and that’s when I finally saw a gas station.
I parked my car, swiped my credit card at the pump, and started filling up. I realized that I suddenly needed to pee.
I finished pumping, hung the nozzle back up, and walked inside the station. Behind the counter was some guy who couldn’t be older than twenty, glued to his phone, not even bothering to acknowledge me. Whatever, I thought, and headed straight for the bathroom.
Two doors: one for women, one for men. I went into the men’s. On the right wall were six urinals; opposite them, three stalls. And in front were a few sinks.
Seeing no one was there, I took the third urinal. I unzipped my pants and started pissing. Just as I undid my belt and pulled my dick out, a man stepped up and took the urinal right on my left.
Fucking asshole, I thought, when there were three other ones he could’ve used. Whatever. I shook my dick a bit, getting the last drops out.
“Long drive?” the guy asked.
I turned to look at him and noticed his hand was moving back and forth. Was he jerking off?
“Y-yeah,” I muttered nervously, not knowing how to react. I still hadn’t tucked myself away, and the fact that this stranger had deliberately started jerking off right next to me, making sure I’d notice, and then spoke… where was this going?
“I know something that can take the edge off,” he said. He had a thick mustache, some stubble, was strongly built, clearly worked out; his hair was dark brown, almost black under the shitty fluorescent light. He was probably around forty.
“Oh?” was all I managed. Words were failing me. What the fuck was I supposed to say? I knew exactly what he was referring to.
“Oh indeed,” he replied, and that’s when I caught the thick Russian accent. He turned toward me, giving me a full view of his seven-inch hard cock. His pubes were trimmed, but the rest of his body was hairy.
My eyes widened, but so did my dick. Without thinking, I turned too, letting him see my eight inches. He bit his lip.
“You’ve got quite the package there, don’t you?”
I smiled at the compliment. “Thanks. You’re not small yourself,” I said.
“Can I touch it?” he asked. I couldn’t even speak anymore, so I just nodded.
His hand wrapped around my dick and started stroking back and forth. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
“Can I… return the favor?” I stuttered. He nodded, eyes never leaving my cock as he kept stroking me slowly.
I grabbed his dick. There was a thick vein running from his balls almost to the tip. I wrapped my fingers around it, my index finger resting just below the head, and started stroking him the same way he was stroking me.
“What if… what if someone sees us?”
“That just makes it hotter,” he muttered, voice thick with lust.
“Fuck…” He was right. The risk. The chance someone could walk in any second and catch us jerking each other off in the middle of the night in a public gas-station bathroom…
“Can I…” he started, breathless, “can I suck it?”
I didn’t even think, I just whispered, “Yeah.”
“Bathroom stall,” he said. He walked to the one furthest from the door, opened it for me, let me step in first, then followed. He closed the door but didn’t lock it, dropped straight to his knees, grabbed my dick in his strong hand, and rubbed it across his lips, across his mustache and stubble. It was prickly, but I didn’t dislike it.
He stuck his tongue out and licked the wet tip, teasing me, eyes locked on mine. While he teased the head, I grabbed the base of my dick with one hand, his hair with the other, held his head still, lined up, and pushed past his wet, precum-coated lips, because I had no more patience for teasing.
Once I was in, I let go of his hair and my shaft so he could take over. He started bobbing his head, stroking whatever he couldn’t swallow with his hand.
“Fuck… fuck…” I groaned. “You suck dick so well, man.”
I couldn’t see his lips smile, as they were stretched around my length, but his eyes glinted. I started thrusting gently as I watched his free hand drop to his own cock and start jerking himself. He picked up speed, sucking harder, faster, until finally he grabbed my thighs, pulled me deep, and took every inch, hitting the back of his throat, his muscles clenching around me.
I couldn’t last. “I… I’m gonna cum…” I warned.
He pulled off instantly, stroked me fast over his face, tongue out. A few pumps later my dick twitched in his hand and I painted his face, his mustache, his tongue, and chin with thick ropes of cum, groaning as quietly as I could.
He pulled his tongue back in, tasting me. I wished he’d swallowed it all, but then again I wouldn’t have gotten to see his face covered in my load.
Seconds later he groaned and shot on the floor; some of it splattered onto my shoes. When he finished, we both caught our breath; I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding mine. He stood up, pulled wet wipes from his pocket, and wiped his face clean.
He handed me one, muttered a quick “Sorry about your shoes,” opened the door, and disappeared.
I never saw that man again. But every now and then I’ll be lying in bed, thinking about him, wishing we’d done way more than just a blowjob, and those memories beat watching porn any day.
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