Date: Fri, 04 Sep 2009 00:35:35 -0400
From: das__auto@hushmail.com
Subject: Baseball Games

Although I never really cared too much for the sport, when I was
younger, my folks signed me up for baseball.  I played tee-ball in
elementary school and later played in a minor league for junior
high kids.  Looking back, I suppose my parents thought this was a
constructive sporting activity which would occupy my unlimited free-
time as well as condition me for other sports such as track and
field--my father always thought I was a good sprinter.  Of course,
once in high school, I chose to join the tennis team instead.

I didn't really care too much for the uniforms.  You know wearing
those ridiculous white stretchy polyester pants, a polyester
jersey, and the infamous American baseball cap.  I did, however,
enjoy wearing my jockstrap and later a baseball cup to protect my
manhood; and I particularly liked how my crotch looked while
wearing them.

My brother, three years younger than me, also played baseball so my
folks were always going back and forth to watch us play.  Seldom
did we ever have a game on the same evening so we frequently
attended each other's games.  My brother was a born athlete.  That
is, although we both were good players, he genuinely enjoyed the
game and he even collected baseball cards, too.  Later he would
enroll in private gymnastics, join the gymnastics high school team,
and continue with it throughout college.

Now I'm not sure if you've ever been to these baseball games, but
they are typically held in a public park and people bring lawn
chairs / folding chairs and set them up all around the fenced in
field.  The games generally take about two hours, and by the time
the games are finished it's dusk.  Usually I would hang out with my
folks for 5-10 minutes and then I would find myself roaming around
the area.

I enjoyed hiking and playing outside and I discovered a rather
long, but well-walked-upon trail that lead from the back of my
brother's field to a restroom (some three fields away), or cottage
as they are affectionately referred to in the UK.  It was an
interesting restroom.  It had two urinals, two toilet stalls, and a
sink.  Thinking about all the public restrooms I've been in, it was
indeed strange that this particular park restroom was well stocked.
 That is, there was always toilet paper in the stalls as well as
paper towels to dry your hands.   The walls of the stalls were full
of obscene messages and drawings of sexual body parts.  Some of the
drawings were really good, too.  I remember one of an exceptional
penis and balls.  I always got hard just admiring it.

Anyway, I found myself looking forward to attending my brother's
games and visiting this restroom.  I loved the smell of it.  It
exuded sex.  I would always visit each urinal and inspect it as
well as scrutinize the toilets.  I would get tired of standing--so
early on, I decided to occupy one of the toilet stalls.  Often I
would just hang out here for the duration of the games.  I would
play with my cock usually ending up masturbating and shooting my
cum on the wall of the stall.  I liked watching it drip down the
sides.  From my astute observation, I learned that there must have
been a lot of guys who did what I did since I always found more
dried up cum marks on the walls.

My brother would occasionally have a Saturday game, and I would, of
course, tag along.  One Saturday on my way to the cottage, I spied
three cars parked in the parking area just outside the restroom.  I
didn't see anyone around, and I didn't hear anyone, so I quietly
made my way into the restroom.  No one was there so I decided to
occupy the last toilet along the wall.  It was a better view of the
urinals and was, in my opinion, a safer location since the other
toilet stall was right next to the entrance way.  Reminiscing like
this, I guess I really had learned a lot about cruising public
restrooms from an early age!

I made myself comfortable.  I pulled my jeans down, pulled my cock
out, and slowly began to play with myself.  After 15 minutes or so,
the door opened and a guy entered.  He walked slowly around and I
saw him bend down and look under the stalls.  I don't think he saw
me looking, but he did see my feet and my jeans.  He walked over to
the urinal that was directly in front of my toilet.  I saw him
through the crack of the stall door.  He stood in front of the
urinal for a long time.  He was playing with his cock.  Every once
in a while, he would look over his shoulders at my door and smile.
I know that he couldn't possibly see me, but I got all flush, red,
and hot thinking that he did.  I breathed as quietly as I could not
wanting to make a sound.  He turned away from the urinal with his
huge dick in his hands and walked slowly over to the crack in my
door.  He rubbed his dick up and down the crack.  I was mesmerized.
 It was like I was hypnotized.  I stood up, walked over to the
crack and stuck my nose in there---I wanted to smell him.  He bent
down and whispered in my ear through the crack, "Yeah, I have a
real big dick, but I guess you can see that from where you're
standing.  Open your door and you can play with it."  I froze.  My
heart was pounding, and my ears were ringing, I stopped breathing
and honest to God, I thought I was going to pass out or something.
However, the sound of the restroom door opening startled me and
broke my trance.  I backed away from the stall door and quickly sat
myself down on the toilet.  The guy who was talking me, casually
zipped up his jeans and walked out of the restroom, and then a few
second later, I heard a car start up and pull out of the gravel
parking area.

The second guy didn't bother going to the urinal.  He sat down in
the stall next to me.  I peered under the stall cautiously.  I
didn't want him seeing me looking at him.  He wore white/blue Nike
sneakers and shorts which were bunched up at his feet.  He spread
out his legs and I heard him playing with his cock.  He was pulling
it down and letting it bounce back and slap his lower abdomen.  He
was moaning and breathing loudly.  Apparently he did see me looking
at him under the stall because at one point he simply kneeled on
the concrete floor and stuck his cock under the partition.  I
watched his cock as it bounced up and down.

I was so turned on.  His cock was the first uncircumcised dick I
had ever seen.  It was beautiful and was glistening from the
copious amount of pre-cum running down the shaft.  I couldn't help
myself.  I got on my hands and knees and started to lick his cock.
It tasted so good.  He praised me on my efforts and told me to suck
on the head.  I gladly obliged his request and opened my mouth as
wide as I could.  However, he had no intention of me simply sucking
on the head of his cock.  He immediately began thrusting his
mammoth rod into my mouth.  "Yeah eat my cock boy.  You know you
want it.  Come on, take more of it.  Yeah that's it, choke on my
big fucking cock."

Saliva and pre-cum dripped all over my chin and face.  At times it
was challenging to breathe, and soon, I felt his hands grab onto my
head. He held me with his cock in my mouth pushing well beyond my
tonsils (I had them removed when I turned 13.  It was the first
time I had ever been hospitalized, and I hated it.  Recovery was
also very unpleasant.  I couldn`t swallow anything for almost two
weeks).  All of a sudden, he shot his load down my throat and I
instinctively drank it--had I not, I fear I would have drowned.
When he was done, he wiped my face with toilet paper, and at that
moment, I saw his wedding ring and a rugged, almost hunter-like,
Timex watch on his left wrist.  When he was done, he thanked me and
quickly departed.

I looked at my watch.  It was late.  Surely my brother's game
finished.  As I quickly excited the restroom, I ran right into the
guy who had been flashing me his cock.  He pushed his crotch into
my abdomen.  His cock pulsated through his jeans.  He looked down
at me and smiled.  He rubbed his crotch and said, "See you around."



Thank you for taking the time to read my story.  Comments of praise
or criticism are always welcome.  Please send them to
das__auto@hushmail.com.