Unlike just about every other story of this kind that I write, this one is actually TRUE and happened just two days ago. Exactly the way it's described. Sometimes the stars do align.
Festival Boy
I love rock festivals. Multiple days of loud music, intoxicants and lots of horny drunk boys with their shirts off. Paradise for a few days.
And in this heady atmosphere of hedonism, my favourite place to be is the toilets. Yes, I'm that guy. The one who basically spends all day looping in and out of the toilets, picking his target and sidling up next to him at the trough. All are equal in the primal display of the urinating penis.
It was the last show of the last night of the four-day event. Pearl Jam had the stage and the festival was rocking. I was getting my last eyefuls of cock for the weekend. Normally nothing happens; the best you can hope for are some extended "I'll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours" kind of moments. Mutual admiration or simple curiosity happens often enough. More than that is quite rare.
A hot boy of about 17 with short dark hair had caught my eye and I followed him to the trough. Immediately I noticed his restlessness, his peeking up and down the line of men. He glanced to his right, making brief eye contact with me. "Oh, this one will give me a nice little show," I thought.
Together we stood with our cocks out. Mine was just dangling, obviously not needing to pee. He managed a small stream, wiggling his boymeat as he did. I made my looking as obvious as possible.
We made eye contact again. He jumped a little, not expecting to meet someone playing the same game. He had long, dark lashes and rich brown eyes. Now we stood together, pretense removed. Aware of our exposed surroundings, we gently and subtly skinned our cocks back and forth, getting mild erections.
"Show me your balls," he whispered.
"I'll suck you off in one of the portaloos, if you want," I whispered back, hefting my nuts over the elastic of my shorts.
His cock twitched and his eyes flared. "Give me one minute," he said as we packed our inflated dicks away.
We started walking towards the portaloos when he jumped, "Shit, there's my girlfriend. Sorry mate, can't do it."
Damn. Double damn. Not only did I manage to pick up an incredibly hot teenager in the bogs, but a sexy bi one at that. Of course, the perpetual problem with bi boys: they have girlfriends. And they usually come first.
I watched crestfallen as he walked away with her, barely glancing over his shoulder. "It's OK," I thought to myself. "We each had a nice little random festival flirt. You win some, you lose some. C'est la vie."
My attentions returned to scanning the incoming flow of drunken, piss-filled festival boys and repeatedly whipping my cock out alongside them. Gaining clear views of their manhood. Sometimes boyhood. All sizes. All sexy.
Then I saw him again. About 15 minutes had passed since we had parted. He went to the same spot where we had met the first time. I quickly sidled up next to him and pulled my cock out. He looked over and smiled, surprised and pleased to see me again.
"So you want to suck me in one of the portaloos?" he asked.
"Yep."
"I don't have much time."
"We'll make it fast."
This time when we walked over to the portaloos, he was able to follow. I found a tucked-away one, entered and looked over my shoulder, making sure he saw where to meet. Seconds later he entered the plastic shed, his erection bulging out his shorts. Sitting on the lid of the toilet seat, my head was at the right level to get busy.
He was indeed in a hurry. I pulled his shorts and underwear down a bit and his juicy, thick 7" uncut teenmeat popped out. It went straight in my mouth. He grabbed my head and pulled my face down into his crotch, holding it there. The way he panted made me guess that his girlfriend couldn't handle his well-sized cock.
When he released my head, I pulled back, laving my tongue over his cockhead, working his foreskin back and forth over his corona. It filled my mouth, throbbing and hard. He pushed it forward, urging me to take him deep again. I slid my lips up and down his shaft, grasping with my fist to increase the friction.
He pulled my shirt off, running his hands over my chest. I leaned forward again, taking his cock back in my mouth, working his head with my lips and tongue, taking him deep the way I already knew he liked.
He gestured for me to get my shorts off. Pulling them down, my cock sprang free. His soft hand immediately grabbed it and we wanked each other at a furious rhythm. I was still sitting, and he had to lean down to do it. Our faces were close. Our eyes were locked. A kiss would have been appropriate and lovely, but I learned a long time ago that kissing and bi boys don't always mix.
Then he surprised me by getting down on the floor of the dirty shitbox and taking my cock in his mouth. What a wonderful sensation it was to have his teen lips work my throbbing shaft. He was gentle and pleasant. My hygienic worries about four days of running around in summer heat with limited bathing were dashed as he bobbed his head. I ran my fingers through his hair, blown away by the turn of events.
He stood up and whisper-barked at me, "Make me cum."
I worked his cock like a dog in heat. In a frenzy, I pulled back and forth on it, licking the head furiously. His legs were twitching and I could feel his cock getting even harder.
Time was very short. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and pounded it with his fist. My tongue lapped at the tip as he quickly brought himself to a climax. Within seconds, his boyjuice was shooting out of his fat cockhead. Quickly I wrapped my lips around his cock again, swallowing as much cum as I could get in my mouth.
Far, far, too fast, it was over. He allowed me a few seconds of suckling on his cock while he came back to earth from his orgasm. Then he packed up his cock and said, "I'm really sorry, but I have to go. Be careful leaving."
The plastic door slammed behind him as he moved quickly back to the festival terrain. I was left sitting there, my shorts around my ankles, my cock still glistening with his saliva. His cum still on my tongue. My head spun with excitement. A long-held fantasy had now turned into reality.
I love rock festivals. I've already pre-ordered my tickets for next year.