A gay story: Changing Room Jerk Buddy I should not be allowed out in public, especially in the summertime. Anytime I encounter a female, I immediately size her up sexually. Nothing as overtly degrading as ranking them on a numerical scale, but I do gauge my level of interest, often giving more desirable women a second, third, or even fourth leering look. This is worst when the weather is warmer, leading to skimpier outfits across the board. The absolute worst place for me to be, then, is a crowded waterpark, which is exactly where I spent this past Saturday.
My day was spent waiting in line for various water slides, checking out chicks in bikinis, trying to avoid getting (or at least having anyone notice I had) a boner. It was torture, but some of them looked so fine I practically bust right there in my trunks.
The park was open late, and I stayed until near closing time. By the time I ventured into the changing room to get out of my wet swimsuit and into some dry clothes, the park had mostly emptied out and I was left all alone in the dimly lit building. I walked past a few empty stalls before going into one, pulling the curtain shut behind me.
I was already shirtless, and untying the drawstring to my trunks and pulling them off was a breeze, so in no time, I was standing in the stall stark naked except for my sandals. I was in a private area with no one around, but the short walls between stalls combined with a curtain, and not a lockable door, being the only barrier between me and anyone else who might come in made it feel like I was out in the open, engaging in public nudity. I don’t consider myself to be an exhibitionist, but that feeling of being naked out in public, in the moment, anyway, was a major turn-on. Thinking back on a few of the women I’d seen that day, some of the revealing bikinis and the barely concealed bodies beneath, combined with the excitement of feeling exposed, had me hard as a rock.
I touched myself gently, thrilled by the notion that I was doing it in public. My cock jumped as my fingertips brushed over it, nearly seven inches of hard manmeat jerking at my touch. Precum dribbled from my tip, primed, no doubt, from being constantly in some stage of erection the entire day. This made it difficult to get a proper stroke started, as it caused stickiness in spots, preventing my hand from sliding smoothly over my entire cock.
I dug in my bag and pulled out a bottle of suntan lotion, SPF 30, and squirted a handful into my palm. I readily applied this to my dick, slathering top and bottom with the white cream to facilitate masturbation.
Now amply lubricated, my hand glided along the length of my shaft, making that familiar “schluck” sound with each pump, a sound known to everyone who was once a teenage boy. It felt good, and I knew relief wasn’t far away, thanks in no small part to all the sexy sights I’d seen throughout the day.
I froze when I heard a sound in the corridor. Another curtain closed, and I resumed stroking myself, too horny for release to wait. I took it slow, caressing myself softly in my fist, moving my hand deliberately, minimizing sound.
A minute or two later, and the curtain opened again, the occupant stepping back out into the corridor. I gave it a few seconds, then resumed my prior pace, picking up speed to get this mercifully over with. I closed my eyes, picturing in my mind the ample buttocks and cleavage I’d gotten glimpses of throughout the day, but I couldn’t escape the feeling of being watched.
I looked around the stall and nothing was amiss, the curtain pulled shut on each side and no one in a neighboring stall. I bit my lip and whimpered quietly, knees turning inward as the pleasure within me grew.
“Ahhhhh…” I sighed, the sexual tension melting away with each pump of my fist.
I was getting close, and I wagered I’d cum in gallons given how horny I’d been all day. I started debating with myself where to shoot, not wanting to be an inconsiderate dick and leave a pile of cum on the floor for some kid to step in, when the curtain was flung open then pulled shut in one swift motion. Instinctively, I whirled around to see what the commotion was, forgetting that I was holding my erect cock in my hand. Accompanying me in the stall, mere inches away from me, stood a slender young man, old enough to enlist but probably not to drink, completely nude, boner in hand, jacking off while he looked at me.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I demanded, dropping my cock to free my hand for self-defense, unintentionally leaving my boner to flop forward and poke into his taut stomach.
“Same as you, man. Just getting in a quick wank.”
“Well go do it in your own stall!” I ordered, shouting a whisper at him.
“I think I’ll stay. Wanking is so much better with a buddy.”
“Get the fuck out!” I was pissed. All I wanted to do was cum and get the fuck out of there, and here was this fucking guy trying to do some gay shit with me.
He dropped his cock and let it poke into me as mine was doing to him. I noticed for the first time how impressive it was: several inches longer than mine and thick as a soda bottle, uncut and shaved bald. His fat cock really stood out in contrast to his skinny body, and all sorts of strange, unwanted thoughts swamped my brain, thoughts of inadequacy given our glaring size disparity and, worse, thoughts of curiosity.
“Listen, man. I’m doing you a favor here. Having a jerk buddy beats beating off alone any day of the week.”
“For you, maybe,” I responded, “but I’m not gay.”
“Me neither, man,” he answered. “It just feels so much better with another person.”
He reached between us and grazed my cock lightly. He wrapped his fingers around my shaft and squeezed, looking me directly in the eyes. “Tell me that doesn’t feel good.”
“It doesn’t feel good,” I lied. My cock oozed precum at his touch, betraying me as I spoke.
“I’ll tell you what: I can lie, too. I can rush out of here and tell park security you were exposing yourself to some kids in here. We’ll know it’s a lie, but who are they going to believe?”
I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but would people believe me? I was scared they wouldn’t.
“All I wanna do is jack off together, nut, and bounce. I’m not trying to have sex or anything. Part of you clearly likes the idea,” he said, looking down at the precum flowing from my tip, “so why not get on board?”
I deliberated for several moments, but fear and horniness ultimately won out, as they usually do. “What do you want me to do?” I asked, acquiescing.
“Hand me that sunscreen you’re using as lube,” he instructed.
I watched as he liberally squeezed the lotion over our cocks, taking one in each hand and rubbing it all over our stiff members. Having another man touch me like that felt unbelievable. Women have given me handjobs before, and, of course, I’ve masturbated, but I’d never had the satisfaction of being jerked off by another person who had extensive experience jerking off themselves. It was the best of both worlds: being pleasured by another’s touch, with that person being someone, like me, who had been practicing how best to handle a cock since they were in junior high.
“It’s good, right?” he asked, knowing he was, in fact, right.
“Yeah,” I admitted, voice breathy from arousal.
“Jerk me,” he instructed, letting go of himself and watching as I clumsily reached out to grab hold of his thick slab of meat.
It felt big and powerful in my hand, swelling against my grip as I caressed and stroked along its length, sliding his foreskin up and down his shaft.
“That’s nice,” he told me, still rubbing my cock in his slick fist.
He angled my cock towards his, rubbing my head against his. It felt incredible, having his cock touching mine, and I groaned loudly. Encouraged by my obvious enjoyment, he pushed my hand off his cock and grabbed them both by the base, our boners pressed together underside to underside. His dwarfed mine despite my bodily size advantage, and it felt incredible to feel him against me so intimately.
“I’ll hold them together. You jerk them.”
He squeezed our hard cocks together at the base with his powerful grip while I grabbed hold just above his hand, sliding my fist up and down over the length of our lotion-lubed dicks. My tip was about level with my thumb as I started, while I had to slide my hand up three or four inches to reach the tip of his.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as our cocks dp’d our fists.
We humped against each other, losing all control of our bodies as the need to cum grew. With his free hand, he grabbed my ass and pulled me against him, hard, squeezing my cheek, four fingers poking into my crack. I did the same, the tip of my middle finger resting on the tight bud of his asshole.
“Fuck!” he cried as his cock began to buck in our hands, lurching against our grip. He erupted, cum flowing like lava from his purple head, gushing over our cocks and hands and dripping onto the floor.
I came, too, as soon as the hot stream of his sex poured over me. I spurted into the air, peppering the quaking head of his cock with my cream. I shot rope after rope of thick cum from the swollen head of my cock. My balls lurched inside me, emptying themselves completely as our cumming cocks squeezed together in our fists.
When the cum spraying finally died down, he began to sway his hips from side to side, clashing his cock against mine like medieval knights crossing swords, cum dribbling from our softening tips upon each impact.
He looked at me and smiled. “I told you it was better with a buddy,” he said, then flung open the curtain and returned to the stall where he’d left his clothes, leaving me exposed, nude, still semi-hard, a pool of our combined cum at my feet. He’d left me with a lot to think about, but the main question on my mind was how I was going to find myself a regular jerk buddy.