Popping My Cherry
There was always a part of me that knew that I liked cock. When reading dirty stories in the letters pages of the jazz mags, I was more interested in the description of the man’s penis rather than how wet and juicy the woman’s tuppence was. In one of the publications there was a feature called ‘One for the Ladies’ in which an exhibitionist reader sent in nudes of himself for all to see. There were all sorts of todgers on display, from little button mushrooms to pythons hanging halfway down the leg. Circumcised dicks and those with big, floppy foreskins. Large, hairy ones with a big blue vein protruding along it’s length, to smooth, hairless specimens resting against the man’s thigh. I found myself fascinated by the substantial array of pricks on display, and couldn’t help but compare my teenage member to the cocks in print.
Fast forward a few years, and I am a man who has just turned twenty. I am doing a spot of shopping in my local town one weekend when I am overcome with the urge to empty my aching bladder. I quickly seek out a local public convenience and make my way into one of the graffiti covered cubicles, unzip myself and have a wonderful sense of relief as I stand and have a piss in the flickering fluorescent glow. As I finish up, I can’t help but notice all of the wonderful artwork daubed on the door and the walls, mainly of well drawn trannies sucking equally well illustrated cocks and being fucked by other transvestites. I was rock hard in mere moments, and I couldn’t help but stroke my throbbing member as I read the accompanying tales etched into the surfaces of the doors and walls. It didn’t take long before I was overcome in the ecstatic throes of orgasm, and blasted a huge deposit of spunk against the sides of the partition. In the afterglow of my climax, I felt regret and a sense of shame at what I had just done, and I hurriedly tried to clean up my considerable sticky load as best I could. But the seeds had been sown, and I returned every weekend after that, eager to see if there was any new artwork or new tales to read and wank over. Many an hour was spent in that and several other toilets in the town, masturbating quietly amongst the smell of industrial strength bleach and stale cigarette smoke, enjoying the accounts and saucy felt-tipped erotica plastered all over the establishments. However, after several months of wanking away to gay and tranny porn on the doors and walls, I wanted more. I wanted to know what a real penis felt like. I was ready to lose my virginity.
One Sunday on a bitterly cold January afternoon, I once again entered into my local public loos out of the biting winter chill, and took up residence in one of the stalls, locking the battered door behind me. As I started to read the tales and admire the dirty pictures on display, I quickly became aroused and proceeded to slowly play with my engorged manhood. I had only been there a few minutes when I heard the exterior door open and I listened intently as someone made their way inside. I immediately ceased the stimulation of my erect member, and stood deathly still as I noticed the footsteps suddenly stop and a shadow loiter around the bottom of my door. My heart rate quickly elevated, and my still hard prick throbbed and twitched in expectation, before the stranger moved on and entered into the adjoining cubicle. I made no sound, and my senses were already in a heightened state as I listened to my neighbour. I heard him undo the buckle of his belt, unbutton and unzip his trousers, letting them fall to the floor, before hearing him pull down his underwear, also. And then what I heard next amazed and shocked me; he was wanking himself, loudly and unashamedly, the unmistakable sound of a slap of excess foreskin as he furiously pumped away on his cock! There was little doubt left in my mind; if I didn’t proposition my horny next door companion, then I never would…
I pulled up my underwear, trying my best to conceal my still hard prick, before buttoning up my trousers. I undid the bolt of my door, tentatively entering into the main room of the toilets. Nervously looking around, I made sure there was nobody else in the premises. I took in a big gulp of air, felt the throb of my cock override any last lingering doubt and softly knocked upon my masturbating neighbour’s door.
‘Would you like a hand with that?’ I softly inquired.
He immediately stopped pleasuring himself, and I could make out the rustle of clothing as he hurriedly rearranged his lower attire. After a short pause of a few seconds, there was the metallic screech of the door’s reluctant bolt, and as the door slowly slid slightly ajar, the face of a gent inquisitively peered out. His eyes wandered up and down me for a few moments, assessing me, his gaze resting upon my still hard cock awkwardly arranged within my clothing, before giving me a big grin and opening the door fully, inviting me into the cubicle. I squeezed into the stall with him, as he locked the door once more behind us. As I stood opposite, I took in his features. A short, stout guy, well dressed in a chequered shirt, beige pants and a camel coloured overcoat. Cropped, balding hair and clean shaven, with the pleasant smell of aftershave. Age-wise, he looked like he was somewhere between mid to late fifties. With my shaking hands, I nervously undid the buttons to my jeans, letting them slip down my legs, before pulling down my boxers, my erect young cock bouncing out and slapping off my lower abdomen. My companion’s chubby hand quickly came out and ever so gently grasped my pulsating prick. He slowly worked it up and down the shaft of my member, delightful little tingles of pleasure working their way outwards as he sensually wanked my throbbing cock. His touch was gentle and light, like the gossamer thin wings of a butterfly gently stimulating the sensitive skin of my virgin penis, and my whole lower body started to come alive to his subtle caresses. As he gently massaged my prick, a precursory globule of clear, sticky liquid beaded up from my pee-slit, and a throb worked it's way along my perineum. I knew if he kept this up, I wasn’t going to last long, my excitement and arousal reaching ever greater heights.
I removed his expert hand from my throbbing cock, manoeuvred my way around to the cracked toilet bowl and sat myself down to find myself at eye level with his groin. He quickly unbuckled his belt once again and undid his trousers, pulling them down to his ankles, before putting his thumbs into the sides of his elasticated Y-fronts and allowing them to slip to his knees. I was confronted with the sight of a small, hairless, pink cock sitting below the paunch of my newfound friend. I gently grasped it with my fingertips and slowly fondled it. His penis was silky and soft, and delightfully hot to the touch. There wasn’t a vein observable on it’s surface, and as I caressed and stared intently at it’s glorious form, I gently and softly eased back the excess skin of his foreskin. As his glans were slowly revealed, they too were the same shade of pink and I leaned forward to place a gentle peck upon the tip of his slowly engorging prick. As I kissed the head of his penis I noticed that his cock had no aroma. My tongue worked it's way over his rapidly hardening tip and flicked and lapped at his piss-slit, before devouring the bulbous glans and working my mouth up and down his quickly engorging member. As I let his stiffening prick fill my mouth I was slightly disappointed to discover no discernible flavour. I worked my lips up and down his quickly hardening tool, bringing him to a full erection, before releasing him from the suction and heat of my mouth to observe his member glistening, standing to attention. He looked like he was only about five inches in length, but it was a beautiful, chubby five inches. I couldn’t wait to get my laughing gear around it again! As I encased his gorgeous fat cock within my hot mouth, my own penis throbbed and a delightful twinge worked it's way along my taint and I could feel the tip of my own prick ooze out it's own precursory seminal fluids as I hungrily sucked on his fully hardened tool.
As I worked his cock with my mouth, my hand started to wander around his lower body. I gently caressed his inner thighs, my fingers working in little circles on his hairless legs. My hands slipped round and massaged his plump buttocks as he started to face-fuck me. My hands slipped around once more to his front and I teased his tight, pink scrotum with my fingertips, whilst all the time my mouth worked it’s way around his fat, juicy manhood. As his stout frame rocked rhythmically, screwing my face, I reached up and massaged his smooth, bloated belly, looking up into his glazed eyes as I serviced his chubby, aging member. After no more than a few minutes, he pushed me off his prick and started wanking frenetically with his right hand, facing the tiled partition of the stall. His fat cock twitched and shot out three tiny spurts of clear, runny cum onto the cracked porcelain. From the amount of spunk, and it’s constitution, I assumed he’d wanked himself off several times earlier that day. I was willing to bet that this was his best orgasm, though.
As he stood before me, his once pink cock, now a shade of red, was quickly losing it’s erection. Nonetheless, I was eager to clean him up properly before he departed, and placed his softening penis in my mouth, ensuring I cleaned every drop of cum from his member. However, I must have been too thorough, because within a few seconds, he was fully hard again. Christ! The man was a machine. It took 45 minutes to squeeze a final load out of him, my mouth tired and the tip of my own cock smothered in pre-cum, before he quickly pulled up his trousers and underwear and scurried away in an air of panic and regret that I would quickly realise in myself. But I knew that I would be doing this again, the reality of the experience far surpassing any fantasy or imagined scenario, and I couldn’t wait for another encounter in those toilets. It definitely felt like a watershed moment, and I had some wonderful wanks recollecting how good it felt to have a man's prick fill my mouth and the hint of his sweet spunk lingering upon my tongue.
Fast forward a few years, and I am a man who has just turned twenty. I am doing a spot of shopping in my local town one weekend when I am overcome with the urge to empty my aching bladder. I quickly seek out a local public convenience and make my way into one of the graffiti covered cubicles, unzip myself and have a wonderful sense of relief as I stand and have a piss in the flickering fluorescent glow. As I finish up, I can’t help but notice all of the wonderful artwork daubed on the door and the walls, mainly of well drawn trannies sucking equally well illustrated cocks and being fucked by other transvestites. I was rock hard in mere moments, and I couldn’t help but stroke my throbbing member as I read the accompanying tales etched into the surfaces of the doors and walls. It didn’t take long before I was overcome in the ecstatic throes of orgasm, and blasted a huge deposit of spunk against the sides of the partition. In the afterglow of my climax, I felt regret and a sense of shame at what I had just done, and I hurriedly tried to clean up my considerable sticky load as best I could. But the seeds had been sown, and I returned every weekend after that, eager to see if there was any new artwork or new tales to read and wank over. Many an hour was spent in that and several other toilets in the town, masturbating quietly amongst the smell of industrial strength bleach and stale cigarette smoke, enjoying the accounts and saucy felt-tipped erotica plastered all over the establishments. However, after several months of wanking away to gay and tranny porn on the doors and walls, I wanted more. I wanted to know what a real penis felt like. I was ready to lose my virginity.
One Sunday on a bitterly cold January afternoon, I once again entered into my local public loos out of the biting winter chill, and took up residence in one of the stalls, locking the battered door behind me. As I started to read the tales and admire the dirty pictures on display, I quickly became aroused and proceeded to slowly play with my engorged manhood. I had only been there a few minutes when I heard the exterior door open and I listened intently as someone made their way inside. I immediately ceased the stimulation of my erect member, and stood deathly still as I noticed the footsteps suddenly stop and a shadow loiter around the bottom of my door. My heart rate quickly elevated, and my still hard prick throbbed and twitched in expectation, before the stranger moved on and entered into the adjoining cubicle. I made no sound, and my senses were already in a heightened state as I listened to my neighbour. I heard him undo the buckle of his belt, unbutton and unzip his trousers, letting them fall to the floor, before hearing him pull down his underwear, also. And then what I heard next amazed and shocked me; he was wanking himself, loudly and unashamedly, the unmistakable sound of a slap of excess foreskin as he furiously pumped away on his cock! There was little doubt left in my mind; if I didn’t proposition my horny next door companion, then I never would…
I pulled up my underwear, trying my best to conceal my still hard prick, before buttoning up my trousers. I undid the bolt of my door, tentatively entering into the main room of the toilets. Nervously looking around, I made sure there was nobody else in the premises. I took in a big gulp of air, felt the throb of my cock override any last lingering doubt and softly knocked upon my masturbating neighbour’s door.
‘Would you like a hand with that?’ I softly inquired.
He immediately stopped pleasuring himself, and I could make out the rustle of clothing as he hurriedly rearranged his lower attire. After a short pause of a few seconds, there was the metallic screech of the door’s reluctant bolt, and as the door slowly slid slightly ajar, the face of a gent inquisitively peered out. His eyes wandered up and down me for a few moments, assessing me, his gaze resting upon my still hard cock awkwardly arranged within my clothing, before giving me a big grin and opening the door fully, inviting me into the cubicle. I squeezed into the stall with him, as he locked the door once more behind us. As I stood opposite, I took in his features. A short, stout guy, well dressed in a chequered shirt, beige pants and a camel coloured overcoat. Cropped, balding hair and clean shaven, with the pleasant smell of aftershave. Age-wise, he looked like he was somewhere between mid to late fifties. With my shaking hands, I nervously undid the buttons to my jeans, letting them slip down my legs, before pulling down my boxers, my erect young cock bouncing out and slapping off my lower abdomen. My companion’s chubby hand quickly came out and ever so gently grasped my pulsating prick. He slowly worked it up and down the shaft of my member, delightful little tingles of pleasure working their way outwards as he sensually wanked my throbbing cock. His touch was gentle and light, like the gossamer thin wings of a butterfly gently stimulating the sensitive skin of my virgin penis, and my whole lower body started to come alive to his subtle caresses. As he gently massaged my prick, a precursory globule of clear, sticky liquid beaded up from my pee-slit, and a throb worked it's way along my perineum. I knew if he kept this up, I wasn’t going to last long, my excitement and arousal reaching ever greater heights.
I removed his expert hand from my throbbing cock, manoeuvred my way around to the cracked toilet bowl and sat myself down to find myself at eye level with his groin. He quickly unbuckled his belt once again and undid his trousers, pulling them down to his ankles, before putting his thumbs into the sides of his elasticated Y-fronts and allowing them to slip to his knees. I was confronted with the sight of a small, hairless, pink cock sitting below the paunch of my newfound friend. I gently grasped it with my fingertips and slowly fondled it. His penis was silky and soft, and delightfully hot to the touch. There wasn’t a vein observable on it’s surface, and as I caressed and stared intently at it’s glorious form, I gently and softly eased back the excess skin of his foreskin. As his glans were slowly revealed, they too were the same shade of pink and I leaned forward to place a gentle peck upon the tip of his slowly engorging prick. As I kissed the head of his penis I noticed that his cock had no aroma. My tongue worked it's way over his rapidly hardening tip and flicked and lapped at his piss-slit, before devouring the bulbous glans and working my mouth up and down his quickly engorging member. As I let his stiffening prick fill my mouth I was slightly disappointed to discover no discernible flavour. I worked my lips up and down his quickly hardening tool, bringing him to a full erection, before releasing him from the suction and heat of my mouth to observe his member glistening, standing to attention. He looked like he was only about five inches in length, but it was a beautiful, chubby five inches. I couldn’t wait to get my laughing gear around it again! As I encased his gorgeous fat cock within my hot mouth, my own penis throbbed and a delightful twinge worked it's way along my taint and I could feel the tip of my own prick ooze out it's own precursory seminal fluids as I hungrily sucked on his fully hardened tool.
As I worked his cock with my mouth, my hand started to wander around his lower body. I gently caressed his inner thighs, my fingers working in little circles on his hairless legs. My hands slipped round and massaged his plump buttocks as he started to face-fuck me. My hands slipped around once more to his front and I teased his tight, pink scrotum with my fingertips, whilst all the time my mouth worked it’s way around his fat, juicy manhood. As his stout frame rocked rhythmically, screwing my face, I reached up and massaged his smooth, bloated belly, looking up into his glazed eyes as I serviced his chubby, aging member. After no more than a few minutes, he pushed me off his prick and started wanking frenetically with his right hand, facing the tiled partition of the stall. His fat cock twitched and shot out three tiny spurts of clear, runny cum onto the cracked porcelain. From the amount of spunk, and it’s constitution, I assumed he’d wanked himself off several times earlier that day. I was willing to bet that this was his best orgasm, though.
As he stood before me, his once pink cock, now a shade of red, was quickly losing it’s erection. Nonetheless, I was eager to clean him up properly before he departed, and placed his softening penis in my mouth, ensuring I cleaned every drop of cum from his member. However, I must have been too thorough, because within a few seconds, he was fully hard again. Christ! The man was a machine. It took 45 minutes to squeeze a final load out of him, my mouth tired and the tip of my own cock smothered in pre-cum, before he quickly pulled up his trousers and underwear and scurried away in an air of panic and regret that I would quickly realise in myself. But I knew that I would be doing this again, the reality of the experience far surpassing any fantasy or imagined scenario, and I couldn’t wait for another encounter in those toilets. It definitely felt like a watershed moment, and I had some wonderful wanks recollecting how good it felt to have a man's prick fill my mouth and the hint of his sweet spunk lingering upon my tongue.
3年前
