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I sat on the bench, trembling in anticipation and watched out of the corner of my eye as a steady stream of men came and went. It was obviously a very popular convenience - next to a busy road, with a park on one side and shops on the other. As they went past I could sense them checking me out. Maybe they were just cruising, or possibly they were suspicious of a good-looking young man reading a newspaper outside the toilets. Stories of pretty-policemen used for entrapment are common. My heart jumped; what if there were real policemen here ? Ridiculous ! I calmed myself. Nobody gets arrested for cottaging anymore - the police have better things to do.
I waited a bit more, giving superficial attention to my paper, but really watching the steps that curled down to the entrance. The toilets were underground, so there was no way that I could see in, and no clue to what I might find except the steady stream of men. A lot of them were leaving now. I folded my paper, stood up, took a deep breath and walked towards the steps. I was shaking.
As I went down I could feel the temperature falling, and the damp musty smell mixed with bleach and urine grew stronger. It was dark - a single bulb lit a small room. It was much smaller than I expected. There were only three urinals and a couple of cubicles. The urinals were taken, so I went into a cubicle and shut the door. There was no lock. I used my paper to jam the door shut. The cubicle was filthy - the concrete floor was covered in toilet paper and piss. The dark wooden walls were scratched with layers of graffiti, and the toilet seat was covered in cum. I couldn't help smiling - this was definitely the right place !
I got some paper and wiped the seat, pulled down my shorts and sat down. Immediately, a piece of rolled- up paper popped from the wall to reveal an inch-wide hole, and an eyeball. Above the hole was etched 'The police are watching'. I covered my cock with my hand. My heart was racing again. The eye disappeared.
Nothing seemed to happen for a while, and then curiosity got the better of me. I looked through the hole. On the other side a hand slowly massaged a stiff 6-inch cock. My own prick quickly swelled, and instinctively I began to rub it. Then suddenly the eyeball was back. I jolted back, and tried to cover my cock, but the eye stayed. I realised that he expected the same show, and reluctantly I took my hand away. At 8 inches I couldn't hide it anyway. I began to play with myself. I was seriously turned-on.
After thirty seconds I took my turn again. He had a gorgeous cock - a slight curve, a large head, and strong veins. I shifted my position so I could get a better look at his body. He was slim, and his abs showed through his tight tee shirt. This was definitely better than I expected !
This time when he bent down he stayed a bit back from the wall so I could see his face. He was young, blonde, smooth shaven, and had mischievous blue eyes. He tipped his head sideways to indicate he wanted me to come around. I pulled up my shorts, got my paper, and opened the door. An older guy was waiting there. I couldn't head straight into the other cubicle, so I went back out to the bench to wait. A few minutes later the young blond emerged, looking a bit confused. He saw me on the bench, and came and sat next to me.
"Hi, I'm Peter." He had a strong Australian accent, and judging from the pecs that showed through his tee shirt he had a strong Australian body too. "I'm Steve" I replied. "Why did you leave ?" "There was a guy waiting." "That doesn't matter. They're all here for the same thing. Do you live near here ?" "No", I lied. I actually live about half a kilometer away, but I didn't want to take the risk of bringing someone back to my flat. "Shame !" He paused. "Do you wanna...?" and he nodded at the toilets. "Yeah".
We headed back down. The men at the urinals looked around as we came in, and then turned back to each other, their right arms pumping furiously. We headed into the free cubicle. Peter stuffed some paper into the gloryhole as I wedged the door shut. The paper was quickly pushed out, so Peter turned and leant against the hole to ensure we had some privacy. He pulled me against him, and started kissing. He was rampant, and his tongue explored my mouth in the most sensuous way. His aroma, mixed with all the other smells was intensely erotic. His hand felt the outline of my cock through my shorts. It was already nearly hard.
"You're big !" he said and immediately dropped to his knees and peeled my shorts down. "Ooh yeah !" was all he added before getting to work on my balls. I keep them shaved for extra sensation. He worked his tongue all over my shaft and balls, and through to the tip of my arse. I tried to pull him up again, but he just shook his head, pulled his tee shirt off and then swallowed my cock whole. I have never known anyone before or since who could take the full length. The hot feeling swelled my cock to its maximum. It felt incredible. He worked it in and out, massaging it with his throat. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth onto my balls, and with one hand he smeared it all over while with the other he started to work his stiff cock. I felt the muscles in his arms and pecs, and tweaked his nipples. He moaned appreciatively, and started to pump his cock faster. He continued to suck my cock and worked the saliva over my balls and round my arse, and started to finger me. I pulled his tits harder and he moaned again in pleasure. With his mouth and throat engulfing my cock, and his finger working my hole I knew I couldn't hold-out for long. I began to tense. He sucked more frantically. I could hold back. I pulled his tits again, and this time as he moaned I shot my load down his throat. He kept sucking as he pumped his cock, and with a few more pulls he spurted cum all over my shorts.
I have never known such an expert cocksucker, and I never saw him again. He was probably a tourist just staying in London for a week or two. The cottage was closed down a few months later, after police surveillance revealed it was being used for 'improper purposes'.