Stupid Hormones

Stupid Hormones

I was eighteen and just finished my last exam, there was still two weeks of term time but the teachers had made it plain we were not expected to attend. Unsurprisingly all the kids in my class thought this was great; they get a sleep in rather than get up for school. I thought it was great for another reason, there was a new sci-fi shop opening in the city centre and I wanted to go to it when it opened. Yes, I was a huge sci-fi nerd even at school.

So there I was on the early bus Monday morning, travelling into the city centre. When I arrived at the centre it turned out I was very early. The shop wouldn't be having its grand opening until ten am. There I was with two hours to kill, and the orange juice and cup of tea I had before leaving the house were starting to fill my bladder. I strolled along to the old toilets in the city centre. These were underground and accessed by a spiral metal staircase. Down I stomped with all my usual teenage grace, like a charging baby elephant, enjoying the noise it made and echoed back up from the toilets. Inside it was quite dark, lit only by a couple of lights; and for a public toilet, was surprisingly clean. I almost skipped across to the urinal and with a sigh of relief started to empty my bladder.

It was only then that I noticed the older man at the other end of the urinal, he wasn't peeing but had his cock in his hand and was slowly masturbating. Up until this time I had only had two girlfriends and nothing much had happened, some harmless kissing and a bit of groping. This was my first time seeing anyone masturbate, much less a grown man, and in the usual sea of teenage hormones I was fascinated by it.

It didn't take him long to see my eyes rigidly fixed to his hard cock, and turned so I could get a better look at what he was doing. I could now clearly see the long strokes that made the skin roll back and forth over the swollen head. So fascinated with it I hardly noticed when he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards one of the nearby cubicles. It was only when he had pushed me inside that I reacted and tried to move away and out of the cubicle; at the same moment he was trying to pull my jeans down as well as turn me to face the cubicle wall. The sound of someone coming down the stairs made him hesitate and loosen his grasp, which let me slip out of the cubicle and scamper up the stairs, passing another old man coming down.

The rest of the day was less eventful. I got into the new shop as one of the first customers and picked up a new novel I hadn't seen before, before going home.

In bed during the night, my mind kept going back to the image of him masturbating. I had never even considered men in a sexual light before, but now the image of him was making me hard. I started playing with myself, the image of him solidly in my mind; by the time i came i was imaging what he obviously was wanting to do to me in the cubicle. The thought of him fucking me got me hard again almost immediately and kept me horny and masturbating through a lot of the night. By early morning I had decided I had to go back and experience what my imagination was conjuring up.

The same as the day before, I caught the early bus into the city centre and headed straight away for the toilets, almost running down the circular stairs. To be met with a completely empty toilet. Disappointment flooded me, before realising I was here a lot earlier than I had been the day before. It didn't even occur to me that he may not come here every day. I decided to camp out in the last cubicle, the one closest to the urinal. Sitting there with the door slightly open, my mind swirling with thoughts of him playing with himself, making myself horny. Although it felt like hours, it was probably only twenty to thirty minutes before I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Pulling my feet up onto the toilet seat, I leaned to one side to get a good view of the urinal making sure I couldn't easily be seen. The thoughts running through my mind were a mixture of frustration in how long it takes someone to walk across to the urinal and growing desire to see what I had seen yesterday. Then an older man came into my view. I couldn't see who it was, I was just hoping that it was him. Just my luck, it wasn't. This man just urinated, washed his hands and left. Frustration just started to grow and grow in me as another set of footsteps came down the stairs and in my frustration I didn't bother to pay attention to who it was when they arrived at the urinal. The lack of noise made me peek my head around the cubicle door to see what was happening.

And there he was!

I could just see him through the gap in the door, his hand moving slowly back and forth. My mouth went dry, I was nervous and scared. Racing through my mind the twin thoughts of "can I go through with it" and "I need to do this". Stealing myself I quietly stood up from the toilet seat and undoing my jeans. I stood in the doorway looking at him for a moment before taking a deep calming breath; pursing my lips and giving a little whistle. His head turned towards me and i just jerked my head slightly to one side, indicating he should come to the cubicle; at the same time pulling my jeans apart showing that they were undone.

He walked quickly into the cubicle, with me closing and locking the door after him. I turned around to face the wall and pulled my jeans and boxer shorts down over my hips. I Suddenly felt a hand on the middle of my back, pushing me up against the wall, another hand, yanking my jeans and boxers further down towards my ankles. The hand from my back snaking around under my left arm and across my body to gag my mouth; at the same time pushing himself forwards, pinning me between him and the wall. His legs pressed hard against mine.

Then I felt it, warm and hard, with a spongy softness as it touched my ass. His hand guided it up between my cheeks. As he gasped me tighter, he thrust his hips upwards and I felt a searing pain as he forced himself all the way into my ass. I would have screamed out loud, but with his hand round my mouth all that came out was a muffled yelp. As he started to thrust in and out, tears of pain dripped down my face, and as much as I struggled I was held fast in his grip and couldn't get away or escape the pain. My cries of pain were muffled by his hand, so all I could hear was my own protests. After what seemed like an eternity of pain, I felt him tense up and then shudder several times as he shot his cum deep into my ass.

As his softening cock slipped out of my abused ass, he released his grip on me and I just slid down the wall into a puddle on the floor crying. He unlocked and opened the cubicle door, revealing that two other men had heard what he had been doing to me. He walked out of the cubicle past them, putting his now soft cock away in his trousers and left the toilets. His footsteps were loud enough for me to hear over my sobbing.

One of the men just picked me roughly up off the floor and draped me face down with my stomach resting on the toilet seat. My sobs had ebbed enough that I could hear his zip undo, before I felt one of his hands on my hip, the other spreading my ass cheeks. I took an involuntary gasp as he entered me; although unlike the first man this wasn't a searing pain. This time it was more of an uncomfortable pressure as he entered me. He then started to thrust in and out, with each thrust taking him deeper and deeper within me. Soon he was steadily pounding in and out of me; and I was shocked that it didn't hurt anymore. Indeed I was starting to enjoy it as I felt him shudder and unload inside me. As he pulled out, soft and spent, I could feel something ouse out of me along with his cock. He backed away making room for the third man to enter the cubicle, but unlike the other two he didn't penetrate my now well used ass. Instead he grabbed my head, squeezing my jaw and forcing my mouth open, before thrusting the tip of his hard cock into my mouth. It was an odd sensation, I could feel the silky smoothness of his flesh on the tip of my tongue, a not unpleasant taste, and before long a slightly different taste, again not unpleasant. With short rapid strokes that barely reached the back of my mouth, I soon felt him shudder and fill my mouth with shot after shot of cum; which I instinctively swallowed as it hit the back of my throat. As I realised what I was swallowing I stopped, making the cum start to pool on my tongue. To my surprise I didn't mind the slightly bitter taste as he finished emptying on to my tongue, and immediately swallowed what had pooled in my mouth. As he released my head and pulled his now soft cock out of my mouth I saw a small bead of cum forming on the tip of his cock; and without really thinking about it, I leaned forwards slightly and wrapped my mouth around his cock and sucked the last of the cum. As I released his cock from my mouth he just left me there, draped over the toilet seat.

I soon recovered my composure and dragged myself off the toilet bowl, and while pulling my jeans up staggered out the cubicle; my legs a bit unsteady. I quickly washed my face in the sink before leaving the toilet and rushing off home as quickly as I could; an uncomfortable wet feeling developing in the seat of my jeans.

After a quick shower, a change of clothes and something to eat I started to feel better, the pain of the earlier incident fading; the memory of pleasure starting to take precedence. Later that night while curled up in bed, I glossed over the memory of the initial fuck, and focused on the pleasure I had started to feel with the second man's attentions. Finally drifting off to sleep, I thought about the sensations and tastes where the third man had used my mouth. With my teenage hormones driving me I soon decided that was something I would like to experience again.

Stupid hormones.