Cock, That’s All

When Jon closed over the cubicle door, Ben moved along the urinal trough. The young labourer who had been standing beside Jon gave Ben a swift suspicious, almost frightened look. Ben nodded at the cubicle in closet acknowledgment; this was dirty, sure, but he was safe to go for it. 

The labourer had ambled into the toilets chatting noisily with another worker from the building site. They made an unlikely pair, though both were smeared with hard grafting muck. One was younger, in his twenties, lean but muscular and with a hungry look, the other was bordering on middle age, broader and beefier, and he took in the whole facility with a nervous but knowing glance.
The older of the two walked over to the partitioned off wash hand basins, but didn’t go in. He turned to look over at the urinals. The younger man sidled up to the trough and stood beside Jon. 

Sidelong glances, then longer stares were exchanged as the labourer unbuttoned his jeans and smacked his cock into his hand. Jon was about to hunker down and start to work over the labourer’s meat right there, but the lad shook his head.

Leaning against a wooden washroom panel, the labourer’s older mate winked at Ben. He squeezed his crotch and pushed his hips out slightly in Ben’s direction. 
‘That’s one nice big cock, there, mate,’ Jon told the lad beside him.

The young man said nothing. He nodded, but he looked around the gents and especially over at the older man who had come in with him.
Jon eased a hand over to feel the labourer’s engorged meat. A shiver of excitement thrilled over Jon’s back as the lad tensed then the relaxed under his touch. Lightly he teased across the thick pulsating shaft, it jerked as he caressed it, then it bucked wildly while Jon put his hand around the massive bell-end knob and pulled on the foreskin to retract it. ‘Fuck!’ Jon let out a low rasping sigh.
Footsteps at the top of the toilet stairs made the lad beside Jon jump. He turned away to hide his erection, yet he didn’t hitch up and go. 

An elderly blue-rinsed queen tiptoed along eying up the talent at the trough, then he settled back beside another old time regular in an antique leather biker’s jacket and peaked cap.
The lad wouldn’t let Jon move back on to his dick, instead he gave Jon a private show. He levered out his balls to play with as he slowly jerked on his tool.
‘Leave it for me to do, I’ll suck the seed out of your balls.’ Jon breathed, and headed for the cubicle. He closed over the door but didn’t lock it. His shadow showed he was waiting for a follow up.

From his new vantage point Ben could see better what Jon had been excited about, and appreciated why. The lad held a monster between his legs, with just the kind of long, loose foreskin covering his huge knob that Jon had always fixated over.

Although Ben admired the young labourer and his package, it was the older of the two workmen that attracted him. The beefy dad pitched one leg back against the washroom partition and cupped his groin with his hands, the thumbs tucked into his pockets the fingers forming a diamond frame across his jeans. Ben moved back from the urinal and turned slightly toward the man. He let his dick and balls fall free from his unbuttoned denim flies.

The man straightened up, splayed his legs and rubbed the front of his pants. He waited a few moments, as the blue-rinse walked over to keep cave at the toilet steps, then he opened his trousers. A firm peak tented inside his straining y-fronts, demanding some instant attention. 

Ben needed no second invite to act. The blink of an untrained eye would have missed him move, yet he had time to smile at Jon. 
The cubicle door had cracked open. Jon peered out and saw Ben on the go, beaming smiles traced over their faces in the seconds it took to exchange a passing glance.
Ben knelt in front of the workman. Not a word needed to be spoken. Ben pulled the inexpertly cut throb of meat from its restraining cotton tower. It’s naked, pleading anger stiffening under the fondled kiss of Ben’s lips, a short hefty handful more than ready to be taken to full release.

With his roughened hands the workman pulled Ben onto his precum glistening knob. Ben offered no resistance, he rested his head in the cradle of the mighty hands and gave up his throat to the momentum of the workman’s thrusts. Light moans rumbled up from the man’s throat. He pressed Ben’s head firmly against his hairy pubes then let go on hearing a satisfying gurgling gag. He stroked Ben’s hair as he gasped for breath without letting the man’s cock out of his mouth. The man then grabbed the padded shoulders of Ben’s leather jacket and resumed slow fucking his eager face.

The mincing queen coughed and moved from the stairs. All the men adopted more or less innocent looking poses as swiftly as they could. The clank of boots echoed down the stairwell and filled the toilet in competition with only the loud rattles of water coursing through pipes. A lanky length of skinhead followed the boots into the toilet. 

Some regulars recognised the skinhead as kindred, so the lookout adjusted his blue-grey flickover and whispered to the youth, getting him up to speed as he passed him to take up his position at the stairs.
Ben and the older workman resumed their places swiftly, but looked about them to ensure that the scene was not about to be disturbed.
The younger worker looked mildly surprised and more than a little confused. Still, he settled into stance that allowed him to watch Ben and his work mate and also to look in at Jon who was watching too from his cubicle.

The skinhead and the antique leather clad man zeroed in on a thin, longhaired lad who had come out of one of the cubicles to stand at the trough. A good looking coffee coloured man also emerged from the same cubicle. After a few seconds to adjust his suit and tie as he took in the pools of activity, he turned on his heals and squeezed past the blue rinse with a nervous smile.

The elder of the workmen leaned over Ben and stroked his head, pulling it in closer to his dirt smeared jeans. Ben lowered his head and kissed the material bulging at the man’s groin. With smoothing hands he rubbed the jeans and prised open the flies once more. The stout piece of joy leapt out at Ben, he licked at some silky drops of precum and took the whole thing from knob to ballsack into his mouth. The man groaned, bending at the knees to encourage more deeptroat swallows. Ben thrust his face repeatedly against the man’s belly, wriggling his head as he pulled back. 

Sweat built up on the workman’s brow, his face and neck grew red, and trembling began to take hold of his legs. He grasped Ben’s head with one hand and tugged at the neck of his coat with the other to hold himself steady as he thrust into him. The force was hard and rough, his surging strength greater even than Ben’s desire. And the sweet rounded movements of Ben’s lunges seemed to make him hornier still. His ballsack rose tight up against his body while Ben twisted them delicately. His cock swelled fit to burst. Then trembling from head to toes, growling moans escaped his throat and his seed wrenched from his nuts with repeated explosions. 

Ben’s mouth filled with waves of hot salty-sweet semen, it trickled over his chin and escaped in splattered bursts all over the workman’s jeans and up on to Ben’s forehead.

The younger workman effortlessly relaxed further away from the urinal, and though still watching Ben kiss his older mate’s legs and balls, the lad took hold of Jon’s bollocks and played with them as they stood at the cubicle door.

During the older workman’s recovery, in retrieving his underpants and trousers, Ben bent in to suck up the blobs of spunk that had eluded his mouth. He sat back and wiped the streak stains from his face then licked them from his fingers for all to see, in the throws of his own joyful sex-worship ritual. 
It was then that Ben noticed the youth go into the cubicle, giving Jon an arse-tugging bear hug in slipping past him. Jon levered away from the door frame and followed his workman, but he left the door open slightly.

Ben noticed that some spunk had landed on the older man’s boot, so he bowed down and touched it with his tongue before he settled in to a loving, open-mouth kiss. The man hitched up his jeans and moved away without a word. Ben fell forward on to his hands but smiled.
Ben watched how the action had developed at the other end of the toilet, as the elder labourer passed by. The skinhead had his cock up the longhaired youth’s exposed arse while the ancient leather man was enjoying his mouth around his cock. 

The blue rinse too was getting his nuts off inside his pants, watching the free show while keeping cave.
Ben’s attention returned to Jon’s cubicle as the door opened a little and Jon popped his head out to nod at the empty cubicle beside his. Ben got up, moved toward the cubicle, then slid in. Both toilet doors clicked shut in ringing unison.

Once settled inside his cubicle Ben sat on the toilet seat, pealing away some tissue paper stuck over a large peep hole as veil, he peered into the neighbouring stall. There Jon had positioned himself and the young labourer so that Ben would get a good look at the activity going on. 

Jon had wasted no time. He had the lad’s jeans around his ankles, kneeling before him Jon was in the process of pulling down a pair of stained boxers with his mouth. He stopped sucking on the underwear when he spotted Ben’s shadow at the cubicle wall. With soft moans he buried his face into the sticky sweat between the labourer’s thighs. In a moment first one then both large low-hanging balls were expertly sucked into his mouth. Jon even managed a sort of grin over at Ben’s peephole. An expression of ecstasy spread over Jon’s face when the lad whispered, ‘Fuck man!’ then used his calloused hands to control Jon’s release of his balls.

The labourer was about to pull back his foreskin, but Jon stopped him. Bending over the loose skin his eyelids fluttered shut as if about to surrender to a romantic embrace, instead he shuffled round to face the lad’s huge knob. The cock reared up in expectation, but Jon had a good hold on its mass. He trained it back down toward his lips with both of his hands wrapped around the shaft. Teasing the elongated pucker with tantalising licks, he brought his hand along the shaft to open the foreskin with his fingers. Again closing his eyes to savour the sensation, he darted his tongue between the skin and the knob. A sigh released from Jon’s chest as he sat back to survey the brute pulsating before him and the lad who relished every worshipful moment being lavished on his cock. 

Jon went back on the labourer’s knob with true devotion. ‘Gorgeous!’ rattled from his mouth. He had pulled back the lad’s foreskin, breathed in the full odours of man, work and sweat, then launched on the knob. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go, still it was an effort. Pressing hard, Jon tried to drive the knob as far into his throat as it could go.

The labourer bent at the knees. Not with a wince, but with a rush of pleasure that forced his eyeballs to roll back in his head and his eyelids to tremble. He tried to draw Jon’s head back from his knob but Jon would not be moved. He sucked harder on the lad’s dickhead causing him to bend further at his shaking knees.

Ben adjusted his position on the toilet seat so he could undo his flies and release his sopping wet erection. Without losing sight of Jon’s enjoyment, Ben ran the precum over his dick and yanked.

Jon let the labourer push his head away, but only so that he could wipe some of his saliva from the lad’s meat and rub it on his own. The lad steadied himself, then took hold of Jon’s head encouraging him to stand up. Jon’s slender cut dick danced briefly against the lad’s monster as it bounced down across Jon’s belly. The lad released Jon’s head and forced his hands through Jon’s arms, resting on his hands on Jon’s bare buttocks. Jon opened his legs, drawing the huge cock between his thighs and allowing the labourer to lean in close and start to hump against him.
Soft yet distinct squelching sounds came as the thrusts increased in earnest. The labourer gave himself over to the experience completely, especially when Jon spat on one hand and reached back to press the engorged pole up into his arsecrack.

‘Fuck me,’ Jon spoke softly into the lad’s ear. He handed him a condom then turned from him and hunched over. In the confines of the cubicle there was little space for the lad to step back and roll on the rubber. His balls pressed up against Jon’s thigh and his cock rested across his shaved, creamy buttocks. Jon watched as the lad fumbled the johnny over his wet knob, then he handed him some lube when the rubber covered as much of the shaft as it could.

The labourer squirted lube some over the sheath and handed the tube back to Jon, who drew more out and fingered it up his pliant hole. 
A tremor tingled through Jon’s buttocks at the first probing feel of the lad’s tool against his butthole. The heavy weight of sex-hardened meat seared on entry, Jon winced, shut his eyes and smirked. His face said it all. This was his arsehole’s heaven. 

Ben crouched down to press his face right up to the peephole, Jon too pressed into the opening. They exchanged bumpy, thudding kisses in time to the labourer’s increasing jabs. The kisses became rougher and more desperate as the lad drove shaft-long stabs deep into Jon’s bowels. Eventually Ben could scarcely hold a grip on Jon’s mouth, so he levered up enough to slide his dick through the glory hole. Jon was on it before Ben could steady himself. He shut his eyes to enjoy the feel of Jon’s expert mouth and to sense the sheer undiluted sense of pleasure he knew Jon was enjoying.
Uncontrolled moans came faster and louder from Jon’s cubicle. The bangs and grinding smacks against the dividing wall came closer, and Ben’s need to spunk off came even closer still. The simple sound of awaited release sighing through the partition gave Ben the final shove, his jizz burst out of his balls and spewed in vast waves toward Jon’s gagging throat.

Breathless Ben hunkered back down to the peephole again, just in time to see the labourer pull out of Jon’s arse. Red-faced with effort, the lad looked like he was lightheaded in exhaustion. But Jon wasn’t done with him. He swung round to suck on the deflating condom-covered shaft dangling before his face. He pulled the lad in front of him so that Ben could get a good look. On Jon’s tongue a river of spunk trickled out over his chin. Jon prised the rubber from the lad and dangled it over his mouth, then turned it upside down to dump in its full load. 

When the labourer regained his composure he quickly retrieved his boxers and jeans, and slipped out of the toilet, softly closing over the door as he slunk out. Jon slid one foot against the door as he squeezed back up to the glory hole. Ben cramped in tight against the hole. They kissed. A sloppy semen-sharing French kiss. And they laughed at the mess spewed around them.

Jon nudged Ben as they stood dreaming outside the old public toilets, its days as a cottage marked out in local gay history rapidly dwindling. Around its echoing chamber the noise of demolition roared.
‘What’s you thinking, cock?’ Ben asked Jon with a little tug at his shoulder.

‘Thinking?’ Jon seemed surprised, but he smiled and said, ‘only you, cock, that’s all.’