One warm Saturday morning in June I decided on a shopping trip to Birmingham, a drive of around 60 miles. The journey, which I had made many times before, was pleasant and uneventful in the sunshine. On arrival I parked my car in the open-air public car park, threw my jacket into the boot and walked towards the road leading up to the shopping centre.
At the exit to the street was a rather grubby public toilet and, thinking it may be a while before I saw another one, decided to enter and take a leak even though I didn’t feel any great need.
As I walked inside an old man in a heavy overcoat and hat walked towards me and asked if I could help him. I said, “Sure, what’s the problem?” He explained that his hands were arthritic and it was rather embarrassing but, having used the toilet, could not zip up his trousers again, and wondered if I could do him a big favour by doing this for him.
I was a little taken aback but could see his predicament, so agreed. He suggested that we steep into one of the cubicles to avoid a scandal if anyone else came into the toilet. This seemed sensible, so he stepped inside a cubicle and I followed behind, pulling the bolt across to lock the door behind us and ensure privacy.
He thanked me for my help and I knelt down to fasten the zip in his trousers, though feeling a little uneasy for a moment or two about finding myself in, what would appear to many, a compromising position. I quickly dismissed this unease and set to work locating the zip fastener. Yes, that was easy and I’d soon be out of here having done my good deed for the day. Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy as I anticipated; the zip was stuck.
As I leaned closer I caught sight of the old man’s shaven, veiny cock through the ‘porthole’. He had a hard-on that suddenly sprang through his fly, into the open. I was transfixed, open-mouthed for a moment or two…when his cock entered my mouth. I’d never taken a guy’s cock into my mouth before and was momentarily shocked by what had happened. In that moment I felt two strong hands on the back of my head forcing me closer. The closer I got, the deeper the old man’s salty cock was pushed into my mouth and I started to gag. I tried to struggle free but he was surprisingly strong and held my head tightly to his crotch. He spoke in a harder voice than previously and said, “you’re not going anywhere, so relax son and you may enjoy this as much as I’m going to”. Absurdly I thought to myself that ‘son’ is term mostly used when addressing young boys. I was hardly that in my late thirties!
As the old man had such a good hold on me I didn’t feel that I had any option but to try to do as he said. He started to thrust his groin steadily back and forth, which allowed me a moment’s breath before each thrust caused me to gag again. Thoughts were racing through my mind as to how gullible I’d been to end up giving oral sex to a dirty old man and then I started to recall the fantasies about gay sex that I’d sometimes had when masturbating. Here I was though, and this was no fantasy. I really was having my mouth fucked for the first time. At this point I felt a twitching in my groin and the first moments of a growing erection as I started to relax a little. I was starting to enjoy this and began to move my head to meet the old man’s thrusts. I decided to give him a good time and so sucked for all I was worth and to use my tongue to stimulate the tip of his cock. The old man was breathing heavily and muttering “yes, yes, take it, suck me hard.” He relaxed his grip on my head but I was by now hard at it and there was no stopping, though I noticed a faint light off to one side in the periphery of my vision. After what seemed an age but was probably no more than five minutes, the old man gave a final thrust and I felt the spurts of his salty come hit the back of my throat, as he said “take it all, swallow it down boy.”
My head was spinning but I became conscious that he’d let go of my head and was pulling my T-shirt up over my head. It was coming right off and, as it did, I felt the snap of something metallic on one of my wrists. Before I had time to realise what was happening there was a similar snap on the other one too and I found myself handcuffed. Bloody hell this was getting worse and I was now incapable of extricating myself. The old man gave a cold laugh and said, “you enjoyed that didn’t you, you little cock whore?” I tried to say in as authoritative a voice as I could muster “I certainly did not and release me immediately.” He simply smiled and said, “it’s no good lying about it, I can see from the bulge in your trousers what the truth is.” Damn, he was right. I was fully hard now and it was very obvious when he ran his hand over the outline of my cock and balls.
He pulled me to my feet and kissed me roughly, his tongue snaking into my mouth and ‘wrestling’ with mine. I noticed he was not as old as I had first thought, maybe around 60 or so, with a wiry, slightly muscled build. Then his hands reached for my trouser button and zip, undoing them with well-practiced ease. When fully undone, he pulled my trousers to my ankles and then reached down and removed my shoes. I wasn’t wearing socks as it was a warm day, and found the concrete was pleasantly cool beneath my feet. Next, he roughly pulled at my hipster briefs and my erect cock sprang out for him to see and touch. I felt strangely excited as if taking some kind of guilty pleasure, though I tried not to let him see this. He touched me, pulling back my foreskin and then jerking me a few times. I was in heaven and closed my eyes.
He spoke again, “I know that you’re enjoying this; otherwise you wouldn’t have such a handsome hard-on. I’m not going to remove the handcuffs yet but I want to see you use both hands to wank yourself to orgasm. When you come, you are to catch the spunk in your hands and lick it up, but must not swallow.”
I was completely naked in front of a stranger, feeling really very sexy by this point and needed no second bidding. I started with a few slow strokes of my length and fell into a steady rhythm that I knew would push me past the point of no return quite soon. He watched me and, sensing when I was about to come, said, “Your hands, wank the spunk into your hands”. I could not hold back further and gave a low groan as I splattered great gobs of spunk into my palms. He took over at this point, squeezing my prick, making sure that all of my come was drained.
“OK, now lick it up, but don’t swallow it,” he commanded. I’d often thought of tasting my own spunk but had always chickened out immediately that I’d shot my load onto my belly. This time he held my head, nipped my ear painfully between the finger and thumb of one hand and slapped my arse very hard when I hesitated. I dutifully held up my hands to my face and licked at the spunk. Surprisingly, it didn’t taste at all unpleasant and I felt a sense of relief as I gobbled it up. I made sure not to swallow and wondered what he had planned next as more of the come entered my mouth. I didn’t have long to wait until; again, he kissed me forcefully and gave my tongue a good workout. He took me by surprise again when, with his tongue, he gathered up some of the spunk from my mouth and then dribbled it onto the fingers of his right hand. He then went back to kissing me again but running his left hand down my back to my arse cheeks, which he deftly parted before bringing his right hand round me and ramming a lubricated finger up my rectum. I gave out a shout of pain, but too late. His fingers were doing their work and wriggling around, first one, then another, and a third; all the time loosening and widening my sphincter. I think by this point I suspected what was to come next. His cock was hard again and jabbing into my belly as he held me tight whilst his fingers did their work. I felt a cold sweat and a shiver of fear with the realisation he was preparing to violate my virgin arse.
I was roughly pushed onto my knees and found myself perched over the toilet bowl. He raised my arms in front of me and fastened my already handcuffed wrists to a water pipe by means of a second pair of handcuffs.
My mind was racing with thoughts of what I’d read of the pain of anal sex and was praying for him not to tear my arse apart. Seconds went by and I was conscious of him rifling through my trouser pockets behind me and a metallic click as he opened my mobile phone, which I assumed he was going to relieve me of for my trouble. How wrong I was, though I didn’t understand at the time. When I suggested that he could take the mobile if he would just release me, he just laughed coldly, thanked me for my generous offer but said that I would still need it. I still didn’t understand. There followed a few electrical bleeps, as if from another mobile and then he restored the phone to my trouser pocket.
“Right, you must be ready for me now,” I heard as he sank to his knees caressing me from behind, while reaching round and twisting my erect nipples painfully. I could feel his cock against the cheeks of my arse, then his hands parting my cheeks and his fingers going to work on me once more. My muscles tensed and I braced myself for what I knew was coming. “Relax son, or you’ll find this unnecessarily painful”. I tried to do as ordered and then felt the head of his prick at the opening, with steady pressure being applied until my anal ring started to give way. I felt a surge of pain and gave out an anguished cry.
He said I should be quiet or he would gag me too. His prick forced its way inside my anal sac until it was up to the hilt and I could feel a burning pain. At this point I heard footsteps as someone entered the toilet to take a piss. I was about to call out for help when my briefs were stuffed roughly into my mouth to prevent this. The old man’s hand was clamped on top to keep me silent. After a minute or so the footsteps were heard again but this time receding as my potential rescuer made his exit, unaware that I was being fucked in one of the stalls.
The old man started to rock back and forth, pushing his cock deep into my arse before withdrawing slowly and repeating the motion. He was working up a head of steam as I peered down into the toilet bowl and smelled the stagnant piss inches below, hoping this would soon be over and I would be released, my bi-curiosity well and truly sated.
He had endless stamina to fuck me; a dull ache growing, then ebbing with each stroke administered by his prick. He was gaining extra leverage by taking a firm grip of my hips and, I have to concede, I was now pushing back to meet to his thrusts as, even though I may have tried to deny it, I was secretly deriving a strange masochistic pleasure from this abuse. If I needed any proof, my cock was again erect and tingling!
After a long hard fuck the old man’s thrusts became more urgent and very soon he was splattering my anal sac with his gooey slime. His grip loosened and, breathlessly as he withdrew, said, “That was marvellous, thanks for your co-operation”. I too was quite breathless and at last I was able to raise my face from the toilet bowl, though I still was unable to speak due the briefs still stuffed into my mouth.
I was aware of the old man getting to his feet behind me. He leant round and wiped his slimy cock across my face and lips before replacing his it in his trousers and, ironically in the circumstances, zipping up without hesitation. I was panicking that he would leave me in the cubicle naked, still fastened by the handcuffs to the water pipe, and with the door open for anyone to see inside. I struggled with the handcuffs but to no avail and he slapped my arse hard again.
At last he spoke again. “Listen carefully. I’m leaving now. Do not try to follow me. I’ll be in touch. Expect a text in the next couple of weeks and make sure you do as instructed or I will have no hesitation in forwarding photographs of you sucking my cock to everyone in your mobile’s phonebook.” I shuddered in horror as I recalled the dim light I had half-noticed whilst enthusiastically blowing him earlier and realised that he had filmed me and downloaded my phonebook to a personal organizer or some such. In consequence he now had all the evidence and information he would need to destroy my reputation and humiliate me beyond belief to friends, family and employers.
I knew in that moment that I would do as he demanded. Without further ado, he turned, undid the bolt locking the door, pulled the briefs from my mouth, stuffing them into his pocket and said “until next time, my friend,” placed two keys into my hand and left. I struggled for a minute or so to undo the two sets of cuffs and then turned quickly to re-lock the door, so no one entering the toilet would see me. By this time the old man was long gone and there was little prospect of catching up with him.
My arse felt like it was on fire and I sat dazed and still naked on the toilet turning events over in my mind. I had an erection and felt randy as hell, so slowly wanked myself again while his cum seeped from my arse until I shot cum onto my belly and thigh. To my surprise, without thinking, I then scooped up as much cum as I was able and slurped it hungrily from my fingers into my mouth. I recall thinking to myself “well you’ve overcome your spunk eating phobia at last.”
After that I slowly recovered, cleaned myself up and dressed, minus the missing briefs, checked my pockets to see whether the old man had stolen anything from them, then let myself out of the cubicle and walked in a daze back to my car. All thoughts of shopping were gone from my mind and I drove home mentally replaying the day’s events as I did so.
The following day and each day since the fateful day I have been tormented by thoughts about what to do if I receive a text from the old man. I’m still wondering but know, as he must too, that I am in his hands and will do almost anything to avoid exposure as a cock-sucking whore.