Date: Wed, 20 Apr 2005 02:11:27 +0200
From: Zack McNaught <bwriterb@hotmail.com>
Subject: Airport Fantasy

Disclaimer bit: this is a fantasy. Not real. No animals were harmed, etc.,
and especially no kids. This didn't happen, and even if it had, the kid
wouldn't have known he was being watched, so it makes very little
difference. The point is, this is a fantasy involving voyeurism of a 12 year
old boy having a wank. If that's the sort of thing that turns you on (and
let's face it, it probably does if you're at Nifty), then you might well
enjoy it. I hope you do. If you're here by mistake, then I'm sorry to have
wasted your time, but you probably don't want to read on.
By the way, I'd love to hear from you. Have you had a similar experience,
but in real life? Or have you, like I have, once shown off for a dirty old
man who was peeking at you through the toilet wall? Or has nothing like this
ever happened, but you liked the story anywaY? Either way, e-mail me at
bwriterb@hotmail.com and tell me about it...
Zack


A brief airport fantasy


I was waiting in airport for my gate to be called, waiting for the
announcement that would precipitate one of the longest airline journeys in
the world, the long haul to Singapore. I hated the journey. Every time, it
left me feeling like I'd been run through the mangle, and it took me days
each time to recover. The fact that my business trips were only a week long
at a time just added to the torment. I was sitting on one of those
impossibly uncomfortable airport seats, struggling to hold the paper in the
right position to finish the crossword. I only had one more clue to work
out, the ancient name for Switzerland. I let my mind drift, and my eyes
wander around the room. I wasn't really looking at anything in particular,
just letting myself defocus. When the answer came to me (it's Helvetica, in
case you were wondering. I'll never forget that clue), my eyes snapped back
into focus, and I realised where they were looking. Across the way, playing
with a handheld console of some kind, was a young boy, maybe twelve years
old, or a young thirteen. I let my eyes rest there for a minute, drinking in
the lad's beauty. He really was my type. I'd realised years ago that I was
attracted to boys, and didn't try to persuade myself that I was anything but
a boylover. I had been married in the past, when I was quite young, but my
wife was well gone, with my best wishes and half the pension fund.
The lad was cute. Really cute. Slightly longer then normal hair, though you
would hesitate to call it long. It was light brown, almost sun-bleached on
top. He had a little button nose and proper rosy cheeks on quite a pale,
flawless complexion. The clothes were good, too, a sort of half-hearted
attempt at the skater look, with very soft, faded looking blue jeans.
Definitely my type. I watched for a few more seconds, before I realised that
perhaps I had been looking for a little too long, and forced myself to
return to the puzzle and write in that last clue.
After a few more moments scanning the other brainteasers on the back page, I
decided to have a quick piss before we had to go through the gate, and there
was a long wait on the other side until we were in the air. As luck would
have it, the boy chose the same moment to do the same thing, and walked
about ten feet in front of me all the way to the toilet. The gents was one
of my favourite places to spy a bit of little boy dick, either at the
urinals or through a peep-hole between cubicles. My boy went into a cubicle,
and so I decided that I would chance the cubicle next to his.
The only word that's fitting at this point is 'jackpot!'. There was a
peephole between the two stalls, and quickly ridding myself of my trousers
and pants, i sat down on the toilet seat and had a look through. What I saw
sent my heart racing and the blood pumping to my dick. I was eye-high with
the boy's dick, which he was idly holding. It was a lovely dick, one of the
nicest I'd seen in some time, a perfect little tube of flesh with a foreskin
that was far too long for it and a little bit pink at the tip, contrasting
nicely with the pale shaft. I reckoned it to be about 2 inches soft. After a
moment, I saw it bulge a little and a shaft of piss broke free from the end,
making a loud splashing in the water of the bowl. It lasted for about 30
mouth-watering seconds before the stream dried up and the boy started
shaking the last few drops off, pinching the head through the foreskin,
puckering it up even more than it had been.
I thought the show was over, and was about to stop watching and start having
a wank, when  I noticed that the boy wasn't pulling his pants up. Instead,
he was still tugging and squeezing at his dick, and I realised that it was
starting to harden. He let go for a second, ovbviously to check on the
progress he had made, and I saw with delight for the first time since I was
that age myself a boy's dick growing in front of my eyes. It hardened pretty
quickly (young boys have all the luck), and ended up a good four inches, I'd
say, though quite thin still. The foreskin was long enough that it still
hung over the end - my very favourite type - and the veins on the side stood
out strongly. After a moment letting it stand there, the boy went to work on
what I assumed was a fairly regular passtime, judging by the refined
technique. He went for the two-fingers-and-a-thumb style that I typically
employed myself, working the foreskin up and down his shaft. Clearly he
didn't have long before he would be missed, and went at it quite fast. His
little balls, in their hairless sack, were pulled close to his body and
jiggled up and down in time with his wanking. Pretty soon I could see the
boy's stomach muscles tensing, and his other hand went down to cup his
balls. A finger definitely drifted back beneath his scrotum towards his
arse, and stuarted rubbing around, which brought a barely audible gasp from
his side of the wall, and nearly got one from me, too. He was very close to
cumming, and when it happened, I was pleasantly surprised to see a couple of
drops of watery semen dripping out of the end of his forekin, which were
caught in the hand that had been fondling his sack. I assumed he would just
wipe the secretion off on a bit of toilet paper, but the hand disappeared
upwards, out of the line of my sight. I could only assume that he licked his
hand clean, because when it came back to capture the drop that worked its
way out of his softening dick, it was clean and glistening slightly.
As quickly as the moment had started, it was over. The boy zipped up quickly
and left the stall in a hurry, maybe feeling guilty, or perhaps just a
little bit late. I was going to have a wank of my own, but I realised I'd
already shot my load onto the floor between my feet without having even
touched myself. I never saw the boy again. He wasn't in the lounge area any
more when i returned to my seat, and there was no sign of him as I went
through the gate, but I still have fond memories of the time I managed to
look in on his most private of moments.

That's it, guys. A short one, but I had to get it out of my head and down
onto the page. Hope you enjoyed it. Once again, if you feel it necessary to
tell me anything about the story, let me know at bwriterb@hotmail.com