The house was still empty when I got in, so I scooted straight up to my room and lay down on my bed. I reached down to my underwear and I could feel right away that I’d been so turned on, that I’d been oozing copious amounts of pre-cum. That night I could think about nothing else, and finally couldn’t help but jerk myself off to the memory of such a stunning phallus that was now seared on my brain. When finally I came, I don’t think he had ever shot such a huge load in my life.
****
The following two days this man plagued my thoughts. I wondered who he was and what he did here – for such a small town, I had never seen him around except the few times I observed him loitering close to the restrooms. I could barely concentrate in class, desperate to get out and go back to re-live such a horny experience. Both afternoons after class I walked back through the park – only now I had the courage to march straight inside the toilets, rather than going up to the top of the mound to look out. I knew my spot – the farthest cubicle at the back. The one with the glory hole. Both days I waited and yet nobody came. I tried to remember which days I had seen the anorak man, but I hadn’t really been paying attention to him before.
If only I’d known what I knew now! I thought to myself.
On the second day back after sucking that incredible cock, it was Friday afternoon and I was growing impatient looking at my watch realising I would have to leave shortly to get home before dad, when I suddenly realised something. The message on the wall above the glory hole was written pretty shabbily – it didn’t say “weekdays”, it said “Wednesdays!”
‘Ooooh fuck,’ I sighed to myself loudly, chuckling. Now it made sense.
I grabbed my bag and hotfooted it out the door to get home for dinner. The whole time I had a smile on my face like I had finally cracked the code. That evening I was able to get back into my routine of school work, but in the back of my mind I was already wondering how I could get out of my swim practise the following week.
***
Saturdays and Sundays, dad and I usually spent some time together – it was him who insisted I did swimming and on the weekends I joined him for at least an hour to work out in the mornings. The weekend afternoons were the only free time he allowed me, so I would usually just head out to hang with friends – or being a bit of a loner at times – I was happy reading or listening to music alone.
My dad – he went by ‘Mac’ – was pretty strict and seemed to have gotten stricter since my mom passed. Initially I resented him for this but as I fell into the routine of life over the past few years it had all kind of become second nature to me. I’d even started to enjoy the workouts that we did together. I had begun to see a slow but steady change in my body that many of my friends were envious of. Sometimes on those Saturday and Sunday mornings I would watch my dad, impressed at how much weight he could shift and look on in awe as the sweat glistened on his pumped up pecs and shoulder muscles. I wondered if I’d ever manage to achieve the same aesthetic. We had similar temperaments, but otherwise I was much more like my mom. I looked more like her too, especially with my hair that I kept long the past year or so. I pretty much always kept it tied back though and everyone seemed to think it suited me.
The time we spent together had also enabled us to build a comfortable rapport, being at ease in each other’s company despite not having much to talk about or much else in common. I always dreaded the day he would ask me about girls, yet that day never came. Maybe he had sussed me out, but I could never quite tell.
***
The next Wednesday couldn’t roll around quick enough. On Monday, I had found myself loitering for a few minutes at the toilets and even up on the mound, but there was no sign of the man with the anorak and his large, healthy appendage. I decided it wasn’t worth hanging around and potentially getting myself in trouble, I would just have to wait until Wednesday. In preparation I went to see Coach on Tuesday and started laying the groundwork for my absence from training the following day.
‘I think it’s my hamstring again,’ I complained, limping as I walked alongside him.
‘Let me guess, Mac’s been pushing you too hard again,’ he said, laughing loudly.
I just grinned along in agreement. Coach had known dad for years, and I could only hope they didn’t bump into each other any time soon.
‘You’d better take the next three weeks, you need to be in shape before the summer when competitions start again!’ I smiled inwardly, pleased at how easy it was to wriggle out of practice.
The following morning, I took my kit with me – just to avoid any suspicion. I was distracted again all day; I couldn’t get the image of that oversized 10-inch cock out of my mind. I couldn’t wait to taste it again.
This time I won’t be taken by surprise, I’m going to swallow all that cum! I thought to myself, grinning.
As soon as I got out of class I headed off towards the pack. I wanted to be sure to get into the cubicle and be there waiting so as not to miss my chance again. I was also nervous in case someone else would be there to take my spot – not that I had ever seen anyone else loitering around there over the past few weeks, but I couldn’t risk it. It was dead quiet as I walked in, only the faint smell of urine which had begun to excite me was there to welcome me as I walked to the last cubicle in the row. I closed and bolted the door, and then waited patiently.
Sure enough at 4:30 almost on the dot, I heard footsteps enter the restroom. Then exactly like the previous week, they stopped dead in front of me before I heard the man enter the next box and the light disappear again through the gloryhole. I was still nervous, but I was trembling a little less this time – enough to be able to focus on my now bulging erection that had sprung up as soon as I heard the first footstep. A moment later, that beautifully pink snake poked its head through the gloryhole, already throbbing and growing as I leaned towards it. This time I took the time to smell it, and put my face up against it, enjoying the heat of this large slab of meat against my cheek – I rubbed it around my face then slowly, I placed it on my lips. It was only my second time sucking a man’s cock, but I was determined to savour every second. I took my time running my tongue all around the gland, massaging it and gently allowing the sensation of my lips to lightly rub against the most sensitive part of this phallus. Gradually I started to take it further into my mouth until I was steadily moving up and down and feeling it hit the back of my throat. It wasn’t long though until the thickness of the shaft caused me to reach my limit and so I focussed on massaging the first 5-6 inches of this wonderful cock that I could get into my mouth as gently and firmly as I could.
The moaning coming from the otherside told me that the man in the anorak was enjoying this as much as I was. And so I continued as long as he was enjoying it. I was supposed to be in swim practice for another 30 minutes, so I let myself enjoy the taste of the pre-cum that was flowing freely onto my tongue. I fought the urge to reach up and jerk the cock, until finally my jaw started to ache and I could no longer resist wanting to taste the warm, sticky treat that awaited me. Almost as soon as I started to squeeze the thick shaft with my hand, the moan became more intense and I felt the familiar spasm as jet after jet of the man’s cum flowed into my mouth. Without hesitation I swallowed it down.