The Hole in the Wall

In the United Kingdom a “Cottage” is a public convenience where men will go to look for anonymous sex from other men. From hand-jobs to blow-jobs, mutual masturbation to full man on man sex, as long as they have existed “Cottage’s” have served a valuable public service far beyond that for which they were originally intended. Of course not everyone thinks the same way as the many millions of gay, bisexual and ‘just looking’ individuals who have sought relief and excitement in them and over the years a great deal of police time and money has been spent or wasted, depending on your point of view, in attempts to not just thwart or interrupt the practice of “Cottaging” but to completely eradicate it. So far, they have failed in their endeavours. In one particularly famous incident a then prominent and very sexy popstar turned what many believed should have been his ruin into a massively successful chart topping hit, accompanied by one of the campest videos this author has ever seen. I believe that in the USA they are referred to as “Tea Rooms”. I’m not completely certain that this is the case so please don’t quote me on it. 

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Work began on the town’s first Public Toilet facility in the early summer of 1895. No expense was spared and a first rate architect was enlisted to design a building the people would be proud of. When it was officially opened by His Worship the Mayor in the late Autumn of the same year it truly was an impressive edifice. From the outside it resembled a small orangery as might be found in the gardens of a grand house. The roof was of glass and iron, with the ornate and some might have said rather fanciful and unnecessarily ornate ironwork depicting leaves and flowers with the odd butterfly thrown in for good measure. All was brightly painted and the rest of the building sought to live up to this bold statement. The walls were covered with the finest English tiles depicting woodland glades and other pleasant pastoral pursuits, with the colours vying for attention with the bright ironwork above. The long, single urinal that occupied one entire wall was made by craftsman from the English Potteries and all surrounds were in marble. The pipework and plumbing was done using sold brass whilst the wooden doors and toilet seats were of highly polished mahogany. The place was positively palatial.

To ensure that their new pride and joy remained in tip-top condition and was fit for use at all times a small office cum sentry box had been included for the sole use of the two full-time attendants whose job it was to keep everything sparklingly clean, as well as ensuring fresh flowers were placed in the wall mounted vases on a daily basis and that warm, freshly laundered towels were available for the customers to dry their hands on. They were also charged with the general maintenance of the building and the two colourful and verdant flowers beds outside the front of the building along with the park benches provided for the comfort and relaxation of those waiting for friends and family who sought relief in the new municipal palace.

Because most Public Conveniences of this time resembled the appearance of a country cottage, the term was taken up by the general public. However the term had a completely different meaning to the homosexual community for whom the sex they craved was prohibited. The ‘cottage’ soon became an ideal place to meet for casual encounters and the possibility of being caught and prosecuted did little to prevent or discourage the practice of ‘cottaging.’  It was of course made easier and less risky if the men employed as attendants could be relied upon to either turn a blind eye to or actively participate in any illegal sexual activity. Such was the case at the town’s magnificently appointed temple to human waste.

It took less than a day for the first act of the ‘love that cannot be named’ to be perpetrated as two middle-aged bowler hatted bankers, having shaken the last drops from the end of their flaccid members carefully glanced at the other’s penis. A mutual glance led to a smile and a smile to the respective hands slowly manipulating the aforementioned members to full erection. Soon the two gentlemen, still sporting their bowler hats, were helping each other out and checking to see if the other’s penis was any bigger or better than theirs. Just as they were getting into their stride there was a discrete cough from behind them. It was Tom, the older of the two attendants and a popular figure around the town. Those who knew him best were well aware both of the excellent blow-jobs he could be gave and that he had the biggest, thickest cock in the Borough. His attention seeking cough succeeded in giving both bowler hatted bankers mild heart failure and Tom was saddened to see a look of fear and shame  as it settled on their faces. ‘Might I suggest that you gent’s take yourselves into one of the toilet stalls? I’ll let you know if Lilly-Law drops in.’ Relief washed over the two men who tentatively moved towards the furthest cubicle. ‘It’s alright gents. You can trust me and Albert to keep your secret.’ Tom smiled conspiratorially, ‘why’d you think we applied for the job?’ He turned away chuckling to himself. The two bowlers were removed and hung on hooks on the back of the cubicle door and two pairs of trousers and undergarments crumpled around the two sets of feet that could be seen facing each other in the gap between the floor and the bottom of the door. Thus the scene was set for the next one hundred and twenty years.

Banker One was pleased to note that his cock was longer and thicker than that of Banker Two although he had to admit that Banker Two was much fitter and carried less excess weight than he did. He reached out and took a firm hold of Banker Two’s erection. It felt good to have another man’s hard cock in his hand and from the look on the face of the man opposite he was enjoying it too. He leaned in to kiss the stranger but he turned his head away and pushed his hand against Banker One’s chest, pushing him back and away from him. ‘I do not kiss,’ Banker Two hissed. ‘I am not a Nancy boy.’ He spoke with a typical private school accent and even with his trousers round his ankles and his cock in the hand of another man he still managed to exude an assumed air of superiority. Banker One shrugged his shoulders and dropped to his knees.

‘Bet you like having your dick sucked though don’t you?’ His grammar and accent told it’s own story and whilst he was aware of the social difference between himself and Banker Two he decided the taste and feel of a hot hard cock in his mouth outweighed any slight he felt from the other man’s manner. He rolled his tongue over the bulbous head and licked at the man’s piss hole. Banker Two grabbed Banker One’s head in a vice like grip and began to fuck his aching dick in and out of his mouth. He showed little consideration for the man on his knees, his sole mission was to extract as much pleasure as he could from their encounter in as short a time as possible. After all, his wife and children were at home waiting for him and dinner would soon be on the table. He felt Banker One take hold of his tight balls and pull and stretch them down. He let out a louder than intended groan and his own knees buckled as the sensations he felt from the expert cock sucking he was receiving became more than he could bear and he thrust harder and harder into the hot, wet, welcoming mouth. Banker One could tell his anonymous pick-up was close to ejaculation and sucked for all he was worth until at last he was rewarded with a thick creamy gush of upper-middle class spunk cascading into his eager mouth and throat. Five full ropes of Banker Two’s juice were pumped into Banker One who quickly pumped his hand up and down his own dick until he shot his load in jet after jet of thick sticky juice all over the underwear and trousers crumpled at Banker Two’s feet.

He licked the last few drops from the rapidly softening cock and stood, pulling his trousers and undergarments up as he did so. He cheekily pecked Banker Two on the cheek and carefully opened the door. Satisfied that no one but he two of them was in the cottage he rapidly slipped out of the cubicle and exited the building. Tom smiled knowingly as he watched the ‘Oh so proper Victorian Gentleman’ leave the premises looking flushed and excited, but couldn’t help wonder what was keeping the other chap.

Banker Two was quietly having a nervous breakdown. That bloody man had spilled his seed all over his trousers, shoes and worst of all his underwear. He had only discovered this uncomfortable fact as he pulled his underpants up and felt the now cold and congealing fluid stick to his buttocks and balls. He then noticed his hands were covered with the stuff from where they had come into contact with it on his City Banker’s trousers. What was he going to do? The housekeeper was bound to notice the stains as the other man’s ejaculate dried and hardened on the fabric. Panic began to set in until he had the bright idea of dipping his fine cotton handkerchief in the water in the toilet bowl and to use it to wipe his trousers clean. He managed to remove the evidence of his impropriety but if anyone looked too closely he or she would draw the conclusion that Banker Two had pissed all over himself whilst using the new public urinal. He left the building with a distinctly uncomfortable air about him that was accentuated by the odd way he was walking due to the discomfort he felt from wearing sticky, itchy underwear. Tom chuckled as he watched him walk away, knowing full well that although it was obvious Banker Two had had an embarrassing accident he would be back for more anonymous, risqué, sex with any man who showed interest.

Over the next few months as word got round that Tom and Albert could be relied upon for their discretion more and more of the town’s closeted homosexuals came to the cottage for their illicit fix. One young man in particular was seen there on a very regular basis. He was an eighteen year old pretty in face, strong, slim and muscular and what today we would call a ‘bottom’. He was employed by the town’s biggest builder as an apprentice bricky and he maintained his attractive muscular physique thanks to all the heavy lifting, carrying and climbing up and down ladders his trade demanded. He had an average sized cock that another man may have been disappointed with but he was only interested in being fucked. To his way of thinking the size of his dick was of no importance, what really mattered was that his arse was always ready and willing to accept any cock that was willing to pay for it. What the regulars at the cottage were unaware of was that the young man was Tom’s nephew and between them they had worked out that a tidy sum could be made by an attractive youth offering his boycunt for a reasonable sum. Middle aged, middle class gentlemen were particularly perceptible to his boyish charms. He would only cruise when Tom was on shift and over the months he developed a regular clientele, the most generous of which he entertained in the private room the council had thoughtfully provided for the urinal’s attendants. Monies raised were shared fifty-fifty with his uncle and a profitable little earner it was.

It was inevitable that the police would eventually find out what was going on. One day during high summer, the builder’s apprentice arrived at the cottage for his usual Friday afternoon fuck fest. It was his half day and if the cottage was busy he had been known to take up to five men into his uncle’s private room. At a minimum one pound a fuck he could earn double his weekly wage. He nipped into his uncle’s inner sanctum where as usual he washed and cleaned himself out. He re-emerged dressed in the clean shirt, trousers and boots he kept there and sauntered over to the open urinal where two men were already relieving themselves. He stood between them glancing from side to side to give each potential punter the once over. The man on his right was in his thirties and looked to be some sort of tradesman with his rough working man’s clothes and unshaved face, while the Gent on his left was slightly older and wore a tailored suit with highly polished brogues. As both men had clearly finished pissing some time ago and had been engaged in the preliminaries of an anonymous tryst when he had stood between them, the apprentice decided it was safe for him to begin his usual pick-up routine. He began, as he always did, by smiling in his boyish most endearing way at firstly the more affluent looking suited Gent and then at the rougher looking but much sexier tradesman. Both gave him smiles of encouragement so he proceeded to completely unfasten his trousers and let them fall a little way down his legs to expose over half of his small, round, enticing bum. He brazenly pulled on his cock getting it hard and ran a hand from his waist round and over his arse cheek to his pussy’s hidden delights. He had his act off pat and as his fingers disappeared in the crack between his peach like arse he closed his eyes, ran his tongue over his lips and emitted a quiet moan of pleasure. The Gent and the tradesman looked at each other and nodded. The older, better dressed Gent shuffled closer to the apprentice while the tradesman tucked his impressive member away and headed out of the toilet block. The apprentice was sorry to see him go. He had been hoping for that elusive threesome he often fantasised about. Still, as his mum always said a bird in the hand is worth two in a bush.  

The apprentice pushed his trousers further down his legs fully exposing his very fuckable arse. Leaning forward he rested a hand on the wall above the urinal, spread his legs and pushed his bum out and up so that the Gent could have a good look at the goods on offer.

‘Fancy a bit mate?’ As he spoke he glanced at the Gent’s groin expecting to see a fully hard cock. He was surprised to see it was flaccid and showing no signs of interest in him.

‘Do I fancy a bit of what young man?’ The Gent raised an eyebrow.

Apprentice smiled cheekily at him. ‘A bit of what I’m sowing you Guv.’ He wiggled his bum, ‘go on mate have a feel.’ He pushed his bum out even further. The Gent let his eyes drift to the enticing spectacle before him and despite himself felt his cock begin to thicken. ‘Yeah, that’s it mate get him nice an’ hard. You know you want it.’ The apprentice trailed his hand over his tight buttocks and pressed a finger at the entrance of his boypussy. ‘My little cunt would love to feel you inside it mate.’ He removed his fingers from his crack and reached over to take the Gents now hard dick in his hand. ‘Yeah, you really do wan ‘it don’t you mister. Mmmm, nice cock.’ He looked the Gent in the eye. ‘What d’ya say? You gonna fuck me or what?’

‘Just like that? You’ll let me fuck you?’ The Gent seemed surprised at how easy it was to get in the young spunk’s cunt.

‘Well it would be nice if you gave me a few pennies as a thank you.’ He squeezed the thick fuck stick he held in his hand eliciting a groan of desire from the Gent.

‘How many pennies?’ he asked huskily.

‘A quid? I’m worth it.’

‘So I pay you a pound and I can fuck your pretty cunt?’ he reached over and cupped a tight round buttock in his hand. The apprentice pushed back against the hand.

‘Yes mate. Just a pound and you can have me for as long as you like.’ He was enjoying the feel of the big warm hand stroking and squeezing his arse. He opened his legs wider and reached back to pull one of his cheeks away from the other allowing easier access to his waiting fuck button. The hand travelled under to his balls which were suddenly grabbed as he was slammed into the wall face first. He yelled out in pain but it was soon stifled when his legs were kicked from under him and he found himself face down in the urinal with a knee on the small of his back and his balls still firmly in the grip of his one time prospective punter. He lay there silent but afraid. He’d heard about men who went out of their way to find youngsters such as he so that they could beat them to within an inch of their lives. The realisation that he may soon be at best seriously injured and at worst dead crowded out any other thoughts until from somewhere deep inside a fragment of resistance forced itself to the surface and he remembered uncle Tom. Where the fuck was he? He began to scream for help.

‘TOM. TOM. HELP ME. TOM…mmmmmm’. His assailant silenced him by crushing his balls with one hand and pushing his face hard into the floor with the other.

In his private cubby hole, Tom heard the muffled screams and shouts but at first thought they were coming from outside. Then he heard his name loud and clear. He flew out of his room and into the Gent’s urinal area. Seeing his nephew being assaulted filled him with a rare fury and taking hold of the Gent’s coat collar he quite literally lifted him into the air and threw him across the room where he landed in a stunned heap. Tom helped his nephew to his feet and having established he was alright walked over to the slumped form of his attacker. He nudged him with the toe of his boot. The Gent was stirred back to full consciousness and sat up with his back against the wall. ‘Right Mister,’ growled a very angry Tom, ‘what the fuck do you think you’re up to coming in here and beating up innocent kids?’ His fists were clenched and his face red. The Gent almost expected to see steam coming out of his ears. He held his hands up in front of him, palms towards Tom.

‘Easy mate, easy. I’m a policeman and that kid just propositioned me.’ If he expected the apprentices guardian to back away just because he claimed to be an officer of her majesties constabulary he was greatly mistaken. Tom loomed over him with real menace in his eyes.

‘Since when does being a Bobby give you the fuckin’ right to beat people up? Fuckin’ scum that’s what you are.’

A man entering the toilet distracted all of them. It was the Tradesman who had been in the urinal with the Gent when Tom’s nephew had first walked in. He stopped in the doorway taking everything in. When he spoke it was to the Gent sitting on the floor. ‘What’s going on ‘ere Jim? Thought you could handle the kid on yer own?’

The Gent, now identified as Jim squirmed in embarrassment. ‘I would have done but for this gorilla interfering.’

Tom looked from one to the other, ‘Are you telling me that you’re both fuckin’ police?’ The Tradesman nodded. Tom continued, ‘Well let me tell you somethin’ you pair of fuckin’ cunts. I don’t hold with older, stronger men, police or otherwise, pickin’ on an’ beatin’ up innocent kids.’ From his seated position on the floor Jim mustered as much of his dignity as he could.

‘Innocent? Him? Innocent? You’ve got to be fucking joking. The dirty little slut was waving his arse at me like a bitch in heat.’

‘Says you,’ Tom countered. ‘From what I saw you was the one with his knee in ‘is back to stop him getting’ up whilst you was choking the poor kid.’

‘He offered himself to me for a pound.’ Jim was becoming quite indignant.

‘And if you wasn’t on duty you’d ‘ave fuckin’ paid him too. I saw your dick waving about and hard as a stick of Blackpool rock.’

The Tradesman/bobby stepped forward. ‘Alright, alright let’s all calm down. You,’ he pointed at Tom, ‘go and stand over there with the lad. And you,’ now he was glaring at his colleague who was struggling back to his feet. ‘You can fuck off back to the station and I’ll deal with you later.’ Jim hesitated and was about to argue when the other policeman stood nose to nose with him. ‘Have you got a problem with that Sergeant?’ Jim immediately backed down.

‘No Sir.’ He looked at his feet shamefaced and deflated. He had promised the tradesman who in reality was his superior officer, that he would be able to control his hated of these fucking Nancy Boys and make a quiet, civilised arrest. But his body’s natural, if deeply hidden and buried desires got the better of him when faced with the beautiful and oh so fuckable arse of the young man. The anger and frustration he felt towards himself when he felt his penis thicken and become harder than at any other time in his life had engendered a rage within him that he directed at the young  man he believed responsible. It hadn’t crossed his mind until now that if anyone was at fault, if anyone had been unable to control his emotions it had been him. ‘I’m sorry sir. I don’t know what came over me.’

‘Well I fucking do,’ bellowed his superior. ‘Now get out before I arrest you.’ Summoning what little dignity he had left, Sergeant Jim left the building. The policeman turned to look at Tom and his nephew who was now standing with his uncle’s arm firmly round his waist in an act of protection and ownership. There was anger, fear and a lot of animosity in the eyes that looked back at him. At that moment he felt ashamed of his profession. He believed his job was to protect good people from bad. It was his duty to try to learn about and understand others who were different to him. He had not enlisted in the Police Force so that he could bully and intimidate those who were weaker or who chose a different lifestyle to him. Okay, he thought, so what the lad was doing was illegal, but he wasn’t hurting anyone and he was obviously only offering himself if he saw the other man was aroused by him. He took a good look at the young apprentice and couldn’t help but smile at him. ‘Good looking lad aren’t you? I can see why they pay you for it.’ He walked across the room towards them just as a mousey looking man wearing a slightly too large suit and round spectacles walked into the urinal. The new stranger stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the three men. He had been nervous when he walked in, now he was visibly shaking. ‘It’s perfectly alright sir. Please don’t be frightened.’ The policeman produced his warrant card and showed it to the trembling stranger. ‘Police business sir. Carry on with your business.’ The badly shaken man rushed into one of the toilet cubicles and closed and locked the door with a slam. The policeman now spoke quietly. ‘So Gentlemen, what are we going to do with you?’

To be continued..