Date: Mon, 31 May 1999 16:20:42 BST
From: Ivan Sempere <ivans2@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Ozzy

If you like the story then email me.


I sat on the bench, trembling in anticipation and watched out of the corner
of my eye as a steady stream of men came and went.  It was obviously a very
popular convenience - next to a busy road, with a park on one side and
shops on the other.  As they went past I could sense them checking me out.
Maybe they were just cruising, or possibly they were suspicious of a
good-looking young man reading a newspaper outside the toilets.  Stories of
pretty-policemen used for entrapment are common.  My heart jumped; what if
there were real policemen here ?  Ridiculous !  I calmed myself.  Nobody
gets arrested for cottaging anymore - the police have better things to do.

I waited a bit more, giving superficial attention to my paper, but really
watching the steps that curled down to the entrance.  The toilets were
underground, so there was no way that I could see in, and no clue to what I
might find except the steady stream of men.  A lot of them were leaving
now.  I folded my paper, stood up, took a deep breath and walked towards
the steps.  I was shaking.

As I went down I could feel the temperature falling, and the damp musty
smell mixed with bleach and urine grew stronger.  It was dark - a single
bulb lit a small room.  It was much smaller than I expected.  There were
only three urinals and a couple of cubicles.  The urinals were taken, so I
went into a cubicle and shut the door.  There was no lock.  I used my paper
to jam the door shut.  The cubicle was filthy - the concrete floor was
covered in toilet paper and piss.  The dark wooden walls were scratched
with layers of graffiti, and the toilet seat was covered in cum.  I
couldn't help smiling - this was definitely the right place !

I got some paper and wiped the seat, pulled down my shorts and sat down.
Immediately, a piece of rolled- up paper popped from the wall to reveal an
inch-wide hole, and an eyeball. Above the hole was etched 'The police are
watching'.  I covered my cock with my hand.  My heart was racing again.
The eye disappeared.

Nothing seemed to happen for a while, and then curiosity got the better of
me. I looked through the hole.  On the other side a hand slowly massaged a
stiff 6-inch cock.  My own prick quickly swelled, and instinctively I began
to rub it.  Then suddenly the eyeball was back.  I jolted back, and tried
to cover my cock, but the eye stayed.  I realised that he expected the same
show, and reluctantly I took my hand away.  At 8 inches I couldn't hide it
anyway.  I began to play with myself.  I was seriously turned-on.

After thirty seconds I took my turn again.  He had a gorgeous cock - a
slight curve, a large head, and strong veins.  I shifted my position so I
could get a better look at his body.  He was slim, and his abs showed
through his tight tee shirt.  This was definitely better than I expected !

This time when he bent down he stayed a bit back from the wall so I could
see his face.  He was young, blonde, smooth shaven, and had mischievous
blue eyes.  He tipped his head sideways to indicate he wanted me to come
around.  I pulled up my shorts, got my paper, and opened the door.  An
older guy was waiting there.  I couldn't head straight into the other
cubicle, so I went back out to the bench to wait.  A few minutes later the
young blond emerged, looking a bit confused.  He saw me on the bench, and
came and sat next to me.

"Hi, I'm Peter."  He had a strong Australian accent, and judging from the
pecs that showed through his tee shirt he had a strong Australian body too.
"I'm Steve" I replied.  "Why did you leave ?"  "There was a guy waiting."
"That doesn't matter.  They're all here for the same thing.  Do you live
near here ?"  "No", I lied.  I actually live about half a kilometer away,
but I didn't want to take the risk of bringing someone back to my flat.
"Shame !"  He paused.  "Do you wanna...?" and he nodded at the toilets.
"Yeah".

We headed back down.  The men at the urinals looked around as we came in,
and then turned back to each other, their right arms pumping furiously.  We
headed into the free cubicle.  Peter stuffed some paper into the gloryhole
as I wedged the door shut.  The paper was quickly pushed out, so Peter
turned and leant against the hole to ensure we had some privacy.  He pulled
me against him, and started kissing.  He was rampant, and his tongue
explored my mouth in the most sensuous way.  His aroma, mixed with all the
other smells was intensely erotic.  His hand felt the outline of my cock
through my shorts.  It was already nearly hard.

"You're big !" he said and immediately dropped to his knees and peeled my
shorts down.  "Ooh yeah !"  was all he added before getting to work on my
balls.  I keep them shaved for extra sensation.  He worked his tongue all
over my shaft and balls, and through to the tip of my arse.  I tried to
pull him up again, but he just shook his head, pulled his tee shirt off and
then swallowed my cock whole.  I have never known anyone before or since
who could take the full length.  The hot feeling swelled my cock to its
maximum.  It felt incredible.  He worked it in and out, massaging it with
his throat.  Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth onto my balls, and
with one hand he smeared it all over while with the other he started to
work his stiff cock.  I felt the muscles in his arms and pecs, and tweaked
his nipples.  He moaned appreciatively, and started to pump his cock
faster.  He continued to suck my cock and worked the saliva over my balls
and round my arse, and started to finger me.  I pulled his tits harder and
he moaned again in pleasure.  With his mouth and throat engulfing my cock,
and his finger working my hole I knew I couldn't hold-out for long.  I
began to tense.  He sucked more frantically.  I could hold back.  I pulled
his tits again, and this time as he moaned I shot my load down his throat.
He kept sucking as he pumped his cock, and with a few more pulls he spurted
cum all over my shorts.

I have never known such an expert cocksucker, and I never saw him again.
He was probably a tourist just staying in London for a week or two.  The
cottage was closed down a few months later, after police surveillance
revealed it was being used for 'improper purposes'.