An Enjoyable Release

This is an absolutely totally true story of a memorable wank I once had when I was on a cycling holiday with an ex-girlfriend, many years ago (I was about 30 at the time). My girlfriend, Celia, and I had rented bikes for a two week “cycling for softies” holiday through the Auvergne region of France (where a minibus takes your bags between the overnight stops). During the daytime we cycled something like 60-70 miles per day across some pretty hilly terrain. Celia was a lovely girl, very attractive, and enjoyed sex, but was just not as sexual as I was. As a result we only had sex when I wanted to initiate it, and she rarely masturbated. She was quite keen on sex but in general it was all pretty vanilla in nature. The holiday was great but tiring, so we didn’t do anything sexual for at least the first five days because we were pretty knackered when we got to bed; and in the mornings we had to get up for breakfast before we jumped on our bikes and headed off to the next destination. As a result by day five I was feeling very horny and getting very keen to have an orgasm.  I had rarely gone that long before without an orgasm, either through masturbation or sex. I wish that we could have just thrown the bikes down at the side of the road and disappeared into the bushes for a quickie, but Celia just wasn’t like that! I remember well how we came round a corner half-way through the morning and free-wheeled down a long hill in bright sunshine to a valley bottom with a lovely green oasis of trees along a small river. I had an immense erection which just wouldn’t go away, which was making it difficult to cycle and also to hide it in my cycling shorts. I am sure that the action of cycling with an erection just made it worse, as with every rotation of the pedals the head of my cock was rubbing against my thigh. As we got to the trees I saw a little hut at the side of the road which was a french toilet block, and so thought that this might give me an opportunity to finally release the sexual tension. I suggested to Celia that we stopped for a break before we started to climb the inevitable hill the other side of the river, and she welcomed the suggestion. We threw our bikes down on the grass and I said “desperate to have a wee - just going to the toilet!” before taking a pack of tissues out of my pannier bag and running over to the little hut, with my erection getting harder by the second at the thought of what I might be about to do. Anyone who has been into something like this in rural France will know what to expect, and it lived up (or probably down) to that expectation. It was dark, with no lighting, squalid, and smelled strongly of wee and all the other smells you might expect. In the middle of the back wall was a squat toilet - no bowl of course in the southern European way. What’s more there was no door on the front of the block, just a wall half-way across the opening so you couldn’t directly the toilet from the outside. But nothing to stop anyone coming straight in if they felt like it. I quickly looked back to make sure that Celia wasn’t about to come in, but of course that was unlikely as she knew I was in there. There were some other people a distance away but there was no sign of any of them getting up and heading towards the toilet block; nothing, it appeared, to stop me using the block for my desperately needed sexual release. I went back in, dropped my shorts, and squatted over the hole in the middle with my trainers on either side. I couldn’t wee because my erection was so hard, even though I needed to, so I just grabbed hold of my cock and started stroking away. The combination of the dirtiness of the surroundings and the naughtiness of wanking in such a semi-public place meant that I was almost trembling with the excitement of it all. It felt incredible to be wanking my cock in there, and I very quickly felt that familiar feeling of getting close to an orgasm. When it came I spurted cum so hard that the first ejaculation splattered onto the brick wall opposite me - one of the most powerful ejaculations I had ever had. I then spurted cum a few more times before I was finished and, feeling thoroughly sexually sated, I pushed my wilting cock down between my thighs and urinated into the hole, before cleaning up with the tissues I had thankfully brought with me. This all took only a couple of minutes but it felt like it had been ages, and I was guiltily sure that someone must have known what I had been up to in there! I pulled my clothes up and sauntered out of the block to find a girl from the other group walking towards it. If I had been just thirty second longer in there she would have entered the block to find me wanking away, cock in hand, maybe even in mid-ejaculation. The close shave gave me a real shiver - in reality I would have found it incredibly embarrassing, but the thought of it almost made me hard again. I walked back to Celia and she said “Feeling better now?” I didn’t tell her exactly how much better I felt, and why! That evening I was still feeling incredibly turned on at the thought of what I had done earlier that day, and how close I had come to being discovered in the act, so we had a thoroughly good time in bed before a lovely deep sleep. It was tempting to tell Celia why I was so horny, but I don’t think she would have understood!