Bad Influence

I just stumbled across this rotten, depraved website and I'm amazed it's allowed to exist. How on earth are you allowed to publish this vile filth, with impunity? How do you sleep at night, after sharing your sick fantasies with other freaks and perverts? I want to tell you a story about the long-term damage you cause, with your selfish, sick abuse on strangers.

Back in the middle of the 90s, I was 18, living in a city up north, and I was a nerd, with crippling shyness, so I'd never seen a girl naked or even had a serious snog. The closest I'd been to seeing a woman naked was was when I kept asking my mate's older sister to show us the sunburn lines on her back, one summer - because she'd gleefully pull her t-shirt up and show us the white straps, but pulling it just a little too far, exposing her gorgeous tits that had all the lads crossing their legs and covering their laps. She was enjoying the pantomime, and showed each of us, consecutively, when we asked her if we could have a look, too.

That was my sex life. I was an young man, innocent and naïve, and Sam's sister was our Gregory's Girl. We were normal 18-year-old nerds; horny cowards. We didn't wank off in front of each other like some of you deviants write you did. If we watched porn on Andy's VCR, we'd all go quiet and there'd be a lot of Adam's Apple movement, but none of it from befouling each other, like animals.

One night in December, just before 6pm, I merrily stumbled out of the pub I'd been drinking in, with a bunch of mates from work, and made pace to the bus station, to catch the bus home.

About halfway to the station, I realised, there was no way my bladder was going to last twenty minutes on that bumpy bus ride into the sticks. Beer went right through me, and I should have had a quick piss in the pub bogs and made haste, on an empty bladder.

It was too far out of the way to go back to the pub, and there were no loos at the bus station itself, so I went to the public toilet in the city centre, which was underground, down two short flights of steps, and into the chamber beneath the street.

As I got to the bottom, the stink hit me and it was absolutely sickening. I wondered if the council had ever cleaned the place, because that was just wrong.

There was a long urinal on one wall, then sinks behind, and four cubicles at the end of the room. The lighting in the main area was off, but the lights from the cubicle section and the cubicles themselves gave the place enough room to navigate.

I unzipped and pulled out my cock, and expected to go straight to maximum flow, but out of the corner of my eye, I realised there was another guy at the end of the urinal, in a shadow created by the lighting.

I was shy. I couldn't let go, because I'd block up. So I just stood there for about a minute, trying to get that first squirt out, to open the dam.

The other guy must have had the same problem. The both of us were standing there in the dark, trying to pee, but too English to let go the flow.

My eyesight was adjusting and I heard him sigh, then he pulled his belt out and loosened his trousers a notch or two, maybe to help him get win the wizz war standoff.

He waved the belt again and flapped it in front of him, and I turned my head a little.

It was his fucking cock! The guy was flapping his hard cock at me!

"You dirty bastard!" I said. "You sick, dirty bastard. I'm going to phone the police."

I pulled my dick in protectively, and the guy started muttering shocked apologies, but I stomped up the steps, a few hundred yards up the street and pulled open the door to the phone box.

I was in shock. I'd been standing there while someone jacked off beside me, in the dark, and I honestly thought he was just shy.

A total stranger, just whipping out his dick in front of a random, just a few feet below a busy shopping street? What sort of depravity drove them to do something like that?

I was holding the received of the phone, but I put it down again. What was I going to say to the police?

I felt sickened. I couldn't believe what had just happened.

I should have reported it, but how would I have explained the contradiction of my disgust to a police officer, while sporting a very visible hard on trapped behind the fabric of my jeans? I couldn't have attended an interview carrying a pillow.

I just decided to go crash a pub loo on the way to the bus station and head home. About an hour later, after missing the next bus and retreating to the pub again, for a couple of swift pints and two double Jack Daniels, I was sitting on the loo in the far cubicle of the underground public toilets. It was the only one where the light wasn't working, and I felt a bit less exposed in the shadows. The door had a lock, too. I sat there, chain smoking Regal King-size, a bag of nerves, listening out for the sound of descending footsteps.

I realised about half an hour later, the chance of getting sucked off for the first time, even it was by some dirty old man, had gone.

I pulled on my coat and grabbed my bag, left the cubicle and headed to the steps. Then, I head the slap of feet coming down the steps.

I was suddenly in a quandary. If I walked out, then walked back in, and some of my mates were on the street and saw me ducking and diving into a public lavatory, they'd have been suss af and ripped me.

So I hesitated, and the guy reached the bottom of the steps and walked by me. Another older guy, but a different one. I went to the sink to wash my hands, and while I did, he went into one of the cubicles.

I wiped my hands dry, and glanced around. He hadn't closed the door fully. My shadowy cubicle was still free.

It would have looked suss, again, if some dude in the public toilet who was about to leave, suddenly turns his attention to some straight dude just wanting to have a piss in peace.

I went back into the cubicle and sat down, locking the door. I was shaking.

The guy was in the cubicle opposite, and after a bit of a kerfuffle, I heard him flush the loo and set out to leave. My heart sank.

When the sound of the flush died down, I listened again, but there was nothing.

Then I heard a sniff.

Then two sniffs in quick succession. From the cubicle right beside me.

He hadn't left. He'd changed cubicles to get closer.

I saw the edge of a trainer under the divide between the two cubicles, and then heard him sniff twice again.

I tapped the side of my shoe against his trainer, and he didn't flinch.

I was so nervous and so horny. I couldn't believe what I was doing.

I sniffed.

He sniffed.

I sniffed twice, and so did he.

I heard a low whispery voice say "What are you into, lad?"

I said I wanted a blowjob and he told me he'd give me one, and I just couldn't believe it.

Moments later, there was a tap on the door to my cubicle, and I unlocked it and let him in.

I was about to stand up so we could swap places and he could suck me off, but he put his hand on my shoulder and flumped back, and looked up to see his jeans were down at his knees, and I was eye-to-eye with his bare crotch and hard, veiny cock.

It was shorter and skinnier than mine, but it was another man's hard penis, right there in front of my face, and it was totally surreal.

He said he was going to give me a blowjob, and I was about to argue my point, but he just pushed his glans against my lips and held my head, and before I knew it, I had another man's dirty, hard cock in my mouth.

I wasn't going to bite it, was I? But he held my head and thrust just the right way, and it just slid into my mouth and I was all of a sudden sucking a cock.

He held my head like it was a melon with a hole in it, and fucked into my mouth with his hips, while I tried to get a rhythm going. After about a minute, he started to get faster and faster, and I didn't want him to spunk in my mouth, so I pulled my head back, but he grabbed it again and got back inside me, really jabbing up and I felt his cock pulse, him groaning rally loudly, and my mouth filled up with spunk.

This was not how I expected my first blowjob to go.

I was astonished, a moment later, when this man pulled up his pants and simply left the cubicle, without giving me the promised blowjob.

That wasn't the deal.

I began to collect myself, to go, but checked to make sure I didn't have strings of spunk over my coat or in my hair.

Then I heard more footsteps coming down the steps.

I hesitated and listened, behind the locked door, and there was nothing for a little while, then a cough.

I coughed, too.

I think I had worked out a secret cruising code?

After a few minutes of whispers, he tapped on my cubicle door and I let him in. I stood up this time.

He asked me if I wanted some Poppers, and I said I'd never had it before, but I'd give it a go.

As I took a deep sniff from that bottle, he'd undone my belt and zip, and he was holding my very hard cock in his hands, and then he rubbed his against mine. Mine was a little thicker, but he had inches on me, and I couldn't believe what I was witnessing and doing.

Suddenly, this stuff takes over me and I'm in some filthy fantasy world. He asked if he could rub his cock up my arse crack, and I was in some wanton lust fog, but he had a proper, big man cock and he'd have injured me if he'd tried to put it in me.

I had another deep inhale and got hit by an intense rush.

He began to turn me around, and he got a little bottle from his jacket pocket and squeezed some lube on his fingers, then his glans.

He said he'd wank off over my slippery arse, and he spent a few minutes just grinding into me.

I asked if I could take another sniff of Poppers, and he had some before passing it over.

I took a deep hit, and then got the full effect, and it was just wild.

I could feel this guy's naked penis rubbing against my naked arse, and I was in some perverted heaven.

He asked if he could just put the tip in, and I was so chem-horny that I wiggled my arse back at him, until I could feel his glans pressing against my arsehole.

He was just pressing his knob against my hole, and he wasn't pushing it, but he'd literally just put the tip in and was waggling it.

I took another snort of Poppers and that high just overwhelmed me.

Over the next twenty or thirty seconds, in the poppers fog, he'd slid his knob inside me, without any protest, and within a minute, he had pushed his full eight inches up me and had me bent over the toilet, fucking me like I was a girl.

I could hear the slapping as he drove into me, and it sounded like something from a porn film.

I was being fucked.

And then, he went rigid and breathless and started fucking me deep and hard, and I tried to push him off me, but he had me at a balance disadvantage, so he just bucked into me, squirt after squirt of spunk.

He was out of there in a minute, too, and I sat in shock.

I had another man's semen inside me and dribbling down my leg, from my royally fucked arsehole.

I couldn't even remember the guy's face.

That wasn't how I imagined losing my virginity.

You ruined everything for me, you disgusting perverts. You made me suck that first cock, knowing I'd be addicted for life. You knew I'd be easy, but you took advantage of me all the same, and now I'm stuck with you all.

I promise you, though, I refuse to watch Eurovision.