I Walked Into a Restroom Meant for Hidden, Carnal Fucks
There is a certain restroom, in a certain hotel of a certain city, that is known to be a cruising spot, and I just happened to find myself there on my 21st birthday.
I discovered it by happenstance.
When I walked into the restroom, at 1 a.m. after a night of drinking, I didn't find it odd when I heard a shuffling of feet as I walked in.
I also didn't find it odd when I saw two guys, young, like me, making small talk in front of the sinks, or when they both turned to look at me and scanned me from head to toe, or even afterwards when I went into the last stall for extra privacy and then heard the lightest of foot taps in the stall next to mine.
I was too drunk to find these things odd.
When I went to wash my hands, the guys scanned me again, but I brushed it off, and then they left ahead of me.
One had red basketball shorts, and the other blue jeans, and they both turned back to look at me as they walked away.
I was tired because I had been walking around for hours, hopping from bar to bar hoping to get lucky, so I decided to rest on a bench about thirty feet away from the restroom entrance.
I was alone now, but not for long.
Another man, older, came walking down the hall. He hadn't seen me yet, but I could see him, and he must’ve thought he was alone because for a long moment he stopped in front of the restroom, and I thought he was simply trying to decide whether he needed to take a piss or not, and he was about to go in, but he decided to look around, to scan the area first, and that's when he spotted me.
He did a double-take because I was staring at him intently, and he was probably wondering where I had come from, and, looking worried, he started walking away.
He moved fast, almost like running away, but then he stopped abruptly and turned around, his expression different, one of curiosity now, and he stared at me so hard I had to break the eye contact because I was wondering why the hell he was now staring at me.
He left as soon as I looked away.
For the first time that night, I thought, “that’s odd,” maybe because I was starting to sober up, or maybe because the guy was super obvious. I looked again just as he was turning the corner, and I thought he was finally gone, but I swear to God, he peeked his head out from around the corner to look back at me.
“Okay, fuck, that’s weird,” I remember thinking.
Freaked out, I looked away in the other direction, and I was about to walk away, but I stopped when I saw the guy in red basketball shorts coming back.
Why was he coming back?
Odd.
He slowed down as he passed me by, and we made eye contact, and then he very noticeably grabbed at his crotch and he rubbed the length of his girth, and my eyes widened and my mouth fell, and worried, he hurried into the restroom without looking back.
I instantly sobered up.
I could see clearly now, but maybe not in a completely sober way, perhaps more sexual.
The past ten minutes came rushing back and this time I noticed all the signs, and becoming aware of all those signs took me further back to when I had first heard of this thing called “cruising.”
It was a friend named Adan who had told me about it once, when we went to the restroom together and he kept putting his foot under my stall.
“What are you doing?” I kept asking, and he kept laughing.
It was later that he told me.
“You really don't know what that means?” he asked.
I confirmed that I didn't.
“When someone puts their foot into your stall, it's a sign that they want to mess around,” he explained.
“Oh, shit, is that true?”
“I mean, I've never done it, that's some gay shit,” he told me, “but my cousin's gay and knows all about that stuff. He's the one that told me.”
He told me his cousin knew of and frequented spots down by the trails, spots in certain parks, spots in certain public restrooms, and spots on and on here, there, and everywhere, if only you knew what to look for.
It was clear now that this was such a spot.
I perked up on the bench. I looked at my watch. 1:20 a.m.
I looked around. I was alone again and I could hear my heart racing.
I heard a door open from behind me. It was a service door, and a uniformed worker from the hotel came out.
We made eye contact and I looked away because now I knew what my eye contact could mean, and I was unsure, and I was afraid, but, deep in my core, I was intrigued, so I stayed put even though I looked away.
He walked right past me and stepped into the restroom.
Adan had told me his cousin had also told him about this.
“If you're hanging around the spot with no reason to really be there, guys will know what you're there for, and if you make eye contact and reach an understanding, whether it be with a smile, a nod, or just a knowing glance, then just follow him into the restroom. If you do, it means you're interested.”
I didn't go in.
I wasn't yet ready to face what I would encounter if I did, not after what I now knew, but I also didn't leave the area.
I was curious now.
I looked at my watch again.
1:30 a.m.
The hotel worker finally walked out faster than he had come in and without looking at me at all this time.
I waited to see if anyone else would come in or out, but no one did, and I knew the guy in red shorts was still in there.
1:35 a.m.
I finally went in.
I heard a shuffling of feet, and then it was quiet again.
I looked over to the urinals. No one.
I looked over to the long row of stalls lined against opposing walls. I could see underneath the first few stalls, but I saw no feet, and beyond those, I couldn't tell.
I went over to the urinals, unzipped my pants, took my cock out, and peed a bit.
I finished, but I still stood there, cock in hand, and I was about to put it away when a man walked in and stood in the urinal right next to mine.
He looked at me, and I forced myself to look at him.
He nodded, and I automatically nodded back because that's what you do, and my heart began to race because of what it meant.
He began to pee and it was a loud, strong stream, and you could tell it came from a huge pipe and I just stood there trying not to look.
As his stream of piss slowed and weakened, another man came into the restroom and stood on the opposite side of this man and also began to piss.
“I'm about to make this really uncomfortable,” the first man started, “but would you guys happen to have a cigarette? I'm dying for a cigarette.”
He looked at the other man first and the other man shook his head. Then he looked at me, and I also told him no because I really didn't have one, or so I thought because it was much later that I realized what he truly meant.
“Damn, it's a shame,” he said, “I figured since we're all here with our cocks in our hands, why not ask, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said awkwardly.
While this man was talking to me, the other man proceeded to take off in a hurry without washing his hands.
Feeling awkward, I put my cock away and went to wash my hands.
“Well, have a good night. I'm off to see if I can find a cigarette,” said the man, and then he walked out of the restroom.
I was alone again. I looked at myself in the mirror and I was ready to walk out, but then curiosity got the best of me and led me to the stalls.
I just wanted to see where the dark magic happens, so I walked over there slowly, looking at the stalls. Some were open. Some were closed. Some were halfways. But they all held the same potential inside.
I heard someone coming, and I panicked, so I quietly ran into one of the last stalls and I quietly closed the door behind me.
I listened.
They were walking, and the footsteps were growing louder, and they were getting closer, and then they stopped very close by, and I stopped breathing because I thought they were going to go into the stall next to mine, and then they walked back, the footsteps grew smaller, and then I heard a stream of piss over by the urinals.
I waited.
He finished, washed his hands and left.
I was alone again, and I began to breathe easily, but then, once again, I heard movement. They weren't footsteps per se, but I couldn't tell what.
Then I heard the voices.
There were two, and those voices seemed to be coming from the stall across from mine, straight ahead.
I froze and I tried to make out what they were saying.
They were less than whispers, something barely audible.
“Get down.”
I heard some shuffling.
“Spit on it.”
A mix of moans.
“Mmm, fuck me harder.”
I heard the distinctive sound of flesh slapping against flesh, harder and faster with each passing second.
Not a minute had passed, and I was rock hard, uncomfortably so, so I unzipped my pants and whipped out my cock and started to stroke to the sounds and to the knowledge that there were two guys fucking right across from me, even though I couldn’t see them, but I could picture it because they sounded like wild animals in heat.
They were getting louder, and one was fucking the other increasingly faster and harder so I followed his rhythm as I played with myself and I imagined myself as the one delivering my cock deep into this random guy’s ass, and I think he was about to cum because I was about to cum, but then footsteps filled the restroom and suddenly everything stopped.
The footsteps grew slower, but they continued walking down towards the stalls, closer and closer to us, until they stopped.
I peeked through the gap on the door and I saw a man standing in front of my stall, but he wasn’t looking at mine, but at the one across, at the one where the two guys were.
He just stood there until he finally whispered to the guys in the stall.
“I just want to see,” he told them.
I heard a few whispers but they were indistinct, and then I heard the lock slide open, and through the gap in my stall, I saw their stall door open.
There were the two guys, naked in all their glory, one inside the other, and this man in front of my stall moaned and began to masturbate and the two guys inside the stall started fucking again, and this time, I could see it all.
My cock was hard as fuck seeing Red Shorts get railed by the other guy's long, fat cock that got thicker in the middle, and the way Red Shorts had his face hard-pressed against the stall wall and how the other guy’s face was quietly screaming of pure primal desire as he used his thick, strong legs to thrust deeply into the ass of the other.
The man that watched them was furiously beating his cock and spitting on it and moaning things like, “that's so hot,” and “yes, fuck him harder,” and “I'm gonna cum,” and he did, he was cumming hard, and Red Shorts, who was still bent over getting fucked, called him over and quickly took the voyeur into his mouth, and the man pumped load after load deep into his throat and didn't stop even after Red Shorts began to gag, not until he had given all he had to give.
The third man, now relieved, took a step back, zipped up, and left Red Shorts and his fucker to continue their business.
Their door was still open and I was still watching and quietly touching myself trying not to make myself heard.
Red Shorts was dripping cum from his mouth, and his ass bounced in the air, and the other guy relentlessly fucked him, grabbing him from the hips and guiding Red Shorts’ descent into his fat, wet cock.
“You just had to eat that guy's cum, huh, you little cumslut?”
Red Shorts moaned, “uh-huh.”
“You want my cum, you cumslut?”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” he moaned, and those moans got me to the edge, and it got them to the edge, too, and at this point I didn't care if I was heard, I just spat on my cock, and I was stroking hard from base to head, and I considered getting out and have Red Shorts eat my cum like the good little cumslut he was, but I was too afraid, but it didn’t matter because soon enough, we all came.
Red Shorts was tugging at his dick and I saw the spurts, rope after rope, he was spilling on the tile floor, white against gray, as the other man emptied himself inside of him.
When I came, I came hard because I had been holding back my moans and the waves of pleasure that were trying to tremble out of me, and out of pure courtesy, I turned around to cum in the toilet.
They were fast. I was still spilling my last few drops of cum when I heard them shuffling out of the restroom, and I felt better because now I could relish, quiet and alone, in the forbidden euphoria of what I had just done.
I was about to leave the stall when someone coming in stopped me in my tracks.
It's not that I wanted to stay, but that I didn't want to risk any other encounters.
The footsteps were slow, deliberate, cautious, and they slowly grew closer, and closer, until they stopped in front of my stall, and through the gap I saw the uniformed worker from the hotel.
“I know you're in there,” he started. “You might want to come back later. Security is about to make their rounds.”
And then he walked away.
I left the stall, I washed my hands, and I walked out of that restroom ready to leave this crazy night behind me, but entirely grateful for what it had taught me.
I was on my way to my room, on another floor now, when I happened to pass by another restroom.
There was a guy, a bit older than me, sitting by the restrooms, and we made eye contact, and then he walked in.
I was stunned, and I stopped because I knew, almost for certain, that he was interested, and he looked like a top, like one of those guys that just wants to bust a nut and call it quits but not before making a complete mess of your ass, and, yes, I had already cum, you would think there was no need, but the needs of the ass are different than the needs of the cock, and while the cock had been satiated, the ass had yet not, so I followed the man into the restroom.
I went towards the urinals because I thought that would be best, and I took out my cock and I began to piss, and I thought he would stand next to me, but he went towards the stalls at the other end instead.
I waited for a bit, maybe he would come, and he waited too, and he coughed and he tapped his foot and I realized I should have followed him to the stalls and not waited at the urinals because by the time I turned around to head over, he was walking out in a hurry without making eye contact, most likely thinking I was not interested. In a second, he was gone.
I was alone again, so I walked out of that restroom and back to my room where I had to use my fingers to finish my night off, my face pressed hard against my pillow as I pretended it was a restroom wall.