Date: Sun, 20 Jan 2008 22:18:47 -0500
From: Richard Skinner <dick.skinner0@gmail.com>
Subject: Favorite Superstore-1(Adult/Youth)

If you are not of legal age in your area, do not read this story.
I assume no responsibility for your actions. This type of activity
is not condoned and is risky.
This story did not make you do anything.

Copyright 2008 dick.skinner0@gmail.com


Here it is Sunday again.  A cold day.  High temperature today 13 degrees F.

Not much to do.  Wife is sitting on her dead ass watching some shit on
cable.  Same stuff hour after hour.  Oh well it will soon be over.  Oh, I
forgot.  Have to run out and get her some of her favorite beverage or she
won't be able to get through the night.

I bundled up and went out into the frigid evening.  I went to my favorite
Superstore.  You know, the ones that have just about anything you want.
Well, almost anything.  I pulled onto the parking lot and saw that the
store must be pretty empty.  What else should I expect on a Sunday night.
Every sane guy is sitting in a warm house watching to see what two teams
will be playing in the Superbowl.  Not me, I'm running the wife's errands.

I parked the car and walked into the store.  Damn, drank too much coffee
and the cold air makes my bladder uncomfortable.  I pop into the restroom
near the front door.  When I walked in I saw two feet in the first stall.
I stopped at the hand driers and turned one on to warm my hands while I
sized up the person in the first stall.  Black sneakers and black pants.
Very heavy pants like perhaps Dickies bib duck pants.  The pants are pulled
very low and resting on the floor.  The belt tail is visible on the left
side.  A tan belt.  It is not moving.  Lower legs spread wide.  Then I
spotted it.  The coiled rope laying on the floor with a pair of heavy
winter gloves.  The guy is one of the cart boys.  You know, the guys who
retrieve the shopping carts from the lot.  I decided "what the hell" and
walked toward the second, handicapped, stall.

As I passed the door to the first stall, I peeked through the cracks on
both sides of the door.  Yep, the telltale safety vest.  Knees spread wide.
Other than that I can't see any detail to tell me about the guy.

I entered the stall and locked the door.  Hung my jacket on the hook on the
door.  Made a big deal of wiping off the seat and flushing the tissue.  I
do all of the to give the other person time to wipe and move on if they are
so inclined.  Jeans down to my ankles and have a seat.  I bent forward to
look at the shadows to see what the guy might be up to.  Someone walked in.
Unfortunately, the door is quiet when it opens but if you pay attention you
can detect a different sound.  The other guy pissed, washed and dried his
hands and left.  Looking at the shadows again I see some left hand movement
but it is out far enough to tell that it is past his knees.  Time to break
out the pocket mirror.  This is a tool I long ago learned was very useful.

As I held the mirror to my right, out of site of the other person unless
they have their head way down, and behind my right foot, I could see all of
his lower legs and his right thigh.  A very stocky lad indeed.  His legs
were very large and the muscles very well developed.  A high school
football player?  There was no leg movement and the belt tail was not
moving as it would if he was seriously playing.  Someone else entered.
Quickly pull up the mirror in case the new person bends down to see if the
stall is occupied.  Suddenly, I notice that the new guy has come over to my
stall and is looking through the crack at the door.  There I am with my
cock hanging down and visible to anyone looking through the crack.

The new guy went to the urinal and pissed.  While he as shaking it after
pissing, I could hear his belt buckle hitting the urinal.  He shook it for
quite-a-while before zipping up and leaving.  Damn, thought for a minute he
wanted to play.

Down goes the mirror again.  This time there is subtle movement of the
right thigh.  Yes, I've struck gold.  Shortly I hear the familiar sound of
flesh rubbing on flesh.  Eureka!  I pushed my jeans lower and really spread
my legs wide and started stroking my cock.  Watching the shadow I saw that
the guy was bending over to check me out.  I moved forward on the seat and
let my 7 inch cock hang down in front to the toilet bowl.  He apparently
was able to see it because his feet moved forward.  I bent forward to check
under the stall divider.  He had lowered his right knee giving me a good
view of him stroking his cock.  It was cut (younger guy?) and about 6
inches.  He was just slowly stroking and wagging it.

I reached under the divider and gave the stroking hand signal.  He moved
off of the toilet seat and leaned against the divider in a squatting
position.  I reached up and grabbed his cock.  It was of average
circumference and rigid as a steel rod.  I stroked him for about 30 seconds
and he reached down to stop me.  "Ready to blow" I thought.  Then I heard
him spit and he put his cock back into my hand.  I smeared that slime
around on the head and all over the shaft and began jacking him in earnest.
I guess he was close to shooting his load.  He moved back onto the toilet
seat and reached under the divider.

I moved over against the divider and forced my cock down into his hand.  I
had been stroking myself as I jacked him.  He began stroking me and moaned.
Then he whispered, "Yea, uncut".  He continued to stroke me and he payed a
great deal of attention to my foreskin.  I love it when guys do that.
Usually, I've got something they don't.  He wrapped his meaty fist around
my shaft an began jacking me like he meant it.  He suddenly stopped and I
heard him lean against the divider again.  I reached under and encircled
his cock with my fist and found that he had applied more lube to it.  My
hand was sliding back and forth at a pretty good pace and I heard him make
a noise.  He was going to dump his load.  I let go of the shaft and began
working on the head of his cock.  There was a fair amount of precum there
to wipe all over the head.  He began to moan more and then I felt the head
swell and spasm.
 I caught all of the cum in my hand and smeared it all over the head and
shaft of his cock.  His breathing became very ragged and he was moaning
quite loudly.

He sat back on his toilet seat and began unrolling the toilet paper and
cleaning up.  I sat back on my toilet seat and was jacking my cock.  I
wanted to get off too but I guess he lost interest after dumping his load
in my hand.  Yes, I was smearing his cum over the shaft of my cock as I
jacked.  He hitched up his pants, picked up his work gear and left his
stall.  I saw him looking through the crack at the door.  I'll bet he was
surprised to see a 60 year old man sitting there stroking his cock with
salt and pepper pubic hair.  He did not say anything and turned and left
the room.

I stayed there slowly stroking my cock and remembering the feel of his cock
and cum.  The door opened again and someone entered the first stall.  They
were not wearing a jacket.  Brown comfortable shoes, tan pants.  I looked
at the reflection on the back of his stall door.  Blue shirt.  No, I wasn't
going to try my luck with the store manager.



My first posting.  Comments appreciated, flames ignored.
dick.skinner0@gmail.com