Impromptu jerk-session in the Men's Room at a Gay Men's Club, with a handsome cowboy.
I was still new to queer culture and often passed a club called the Blue Parrot, when I was in the neighborhood for my special tribe. One day, I finally went in. It was a bit rundown, but fun and comfortable. There was apparently a singing contest going on, hosted by a comic drag queen. It was late afternoon, and the place was somewhat empty. I visited the Men's Room, and started playing with my cock, while straddling the crapper. I realized it made more sense to stand at the trough. [Seems like nowadays only Gay Men's Clubs have troughs.] Again I pulled out my dick, caressing and feeling it expand and harden. A few minutes later, a big old, tall, rough and handsome cowboy walked in. He stood at the toilet but there no sound of pissing. I don't know how I got so bold, but I turned to him and said, "Come on over." He did so and revealed his cock. The head was shaped much differently than mine, sort of like a mushroom, with the pisshole flat. We both watched each other unabashedly, not hiding our curiousity. He twisted his fist up and down the shaft, while I rubbed the webby skin just below my cockhead, between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand. "It feels like we've stepped into Wonderland," he drawled in a whisper. "It does," I replied. I knew just what he meant. It was trippy and surreal, jerking together in public toilet without a care. Free to share in each other's pleasure. I was lightheaded, almost dizzy. He asked if I had a place, but I was living at home. He was staying with friends. I wish I'd been brave enough to touch that proud, bobbing rocket, but it even so it was still so hot, and intense and phenomenal. Familiar chills tingled from my asshairs to spine, and I pointed and shot into the trough. Soon my new buddy shut his eyes, groaned and aimed his spunk at the rusty drain. It was so raw, and intuitive and the build was so powerful. I left knobby-kneed, but feeling just fine.
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