Date: Thu, 23 Aug 2012 05:25:03 +0000 (UTC)
From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net
Subject: Toilet Jack Off Voyeur

I live in a 150-year-old house, it was a farmhouse, but my parents restored
and modernized it.  My name is Bruce.  I'm sixteen and my brother Colin is
thirteen.  The property has a lot of out buildings including a large
separate garage and workshop.  That's where I was working on my car when
one of my thirteen-year-old brother's friends came in and went straight
back to use the toilet, or so I thought.  I should describe the garage and
workshop in order to set the scene.  This was some sort of old farm
building with a concrete floor, probably where they stored the tractors and
equipment.  When it was converted into a garage there was a small
office-like area put in a back corner that had a desk and a few cabinets.
It wasn't really separate like an enclosed room; it was only partially
walled off and there were glass windows that you could see through.  In the
back of the "office" was a modern flushable toilet, installed mainly for
convenience, saving you a trip back to the main house, but again not
separately walled off.  In other words, you could be seen at certain angles
from the shop floor.  The windows weren't that clean and there was so much
clutter on the shop side from various tools and auto parts that you had
enough privacy if no one was looking.

Well, like I said, I was just sort of standing around at one end of the
workshop thinking about what tools I was going to use to do some minor
adjustment on my old convertible when I saw Mark, one of my brother's
friends, come flying in the door and head straight back to the office.  He
didn't notice me because I was about thirty feet away and the lighting
wasn't that great in the shop anyway.  I noticed he had already unbuckled
his khakis and I thought to myself that he must really have to go.  He
pulled up his blue sweater and his khakis dropped to his knees.  He had on
white boxers.  I was about to look away to give him some privacy when he
quickly pulled his boxers down to mid thigh.  I noticed Mark's dick was
half hard.  Mark didn't lift the toilet seat.  He looked down and just sort
of swung his hips back and forth like he was wagging his dick; it looked
about three inches long and thin.  Mark had really white skin and I noticed
how red the head of his dick looked.  Then I realized that Mark might be
uncut and he was excited enough that his foreskin had pulled back.  Now I
was getting interested.  I could feel my drooping penis swelling in my
cotton briefs.  I couldn't really see if Mark had any hair, if he did it
wasn't visible.  His scrotum was slightly pink in comparison to his white
thighs.

Mark didn't waste any time before reaching down and stroking his horizontal
shaft with the fingertips of his right hand.  He worked vigorously and I
could see he was uncut for sure as he drew his foreskin back and forth.
His dangling balls jiggled and bounced.  He switched to an underhanded grip
for a bit.  I rubbed myself through my pants as my cock hardened and slid
to the right.

Mark suddenly stopped and used his right hand to tuck his sweater and
T-shirt up under his chin.  He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet,
legs straight out.  I moved closer to make sure I could see.  Mark began
full underhanded strokes.  His cock was now about four or five inches long,
but still really thin.  I could see the two tendons on each side of his
shaft stretch has Mark pulled downward.  Mark leaned over; sweater tucked
under his chin, and watched himself masturbate.  I could see what he saw;
the swelling head had developed a more purple hue in his tight grip.  I was
almost completely hard and had to reach into my jeans to rearrange the
angle of my jutting boner.

Only a minute passed since Mark began stroking.  He let go of his stiff
shaft and it stood fully hard, over five inches, next to his smooth
abdomen.  Mark wiped his hand upward several times relishing the sensation
of his upward–curving maleness.  His testicles were pulled taut with
each tug.

Mark rededicated himself to his task.  He grabbed his erection and began
cranking it in a hard circular motion with his right hand.  He spread his
legs and began rolling his nuts in his cupped left hand, pushing them
painfully upward around his shaft.  He vigorously massaged the underside of
his taint.  Mark gritted his teeth as he determinedly abused himself.

After a thirty or forty seconds of intense punishment, Mark paused to catch
his breath; the rise and fall of his navel, still surrounded by a touch of
boyish fat, attesting to his labored respiration.  The boy released his
grip for a few moments and his phallus sprung upward, curving
magnificently, throbbing, the end crimson with lust.  I felt my own cock
twitch in my pants at the impudent sight.

After a few moments Mark began again, slowly stroking, sliding the skin of
his shaft with his fingertips, moving higher and higher.  The intensity of
rolling his prepuce over the head was more than he could bear.  He again
grasped his rampant boyhood in an underhanded grip and began fiercely
stroking.  I could see the thin muscles of Mark's right arm strain with
effort.  His legs straightened, pulling his khakis tight around his calves.
His eyes closed.  He shortened his strokes and pulled his shaft down
painfully.  The deep purple, engorged cock head glistened as the
thirteen-year-old halted at the brink of eternity.  The boy opened his eyes
and looked down.  A small spurt of fluid escaped.  Almost too late, Mark
began to stroke.  A huge linear burst of white shot into the air and landed
mostly on the boy's thigh.

"Unngh!"

One burst, one utterance.

The boy continued stroke, pleasure written on his face.  But, within
seconds, almost in a panic, he began reaching for the roll of toilet paper.
Mark tore off a length of paper and quickly began wiping his thigh, his
fingers, and the top of the seat.  He wiped the moist exposed tip of his
still fully hard erection.  Mark stood up, raised the seat and threw the
evidence of his sinful pleasure into the bowl and flushed it away.  I
stepped farther back into the shadows.  Mark quickly pulled his boxers over
his still-sensitive, lengthy boyhood.  He lifted his khakis and carefully
buttoned and zipped up over his prominence.  Belt fastened, sweater
smoothed, Mark quickly left the office and headed out the door.  Barely
more than five minutes had elapsed during this tableau from door opening to
door closing.

I was hard and wanted to attend to that problem, but first I wanted to know
what prompted such a hasty jack off.  I decided to find out.  I carefully
looked outside and saw Mark talking to my little brother who grinned
lasciviously.  Mark was obviously relating the success of his endeavor to
his friend.  I overheard enough to understand why Mark had such an urgent
need to relieve himself.  Colin had taken some of the bedding material from
one of our mare's stalls and had let our stallion get her scent in his
corral.  The horse naturally became excited and erect.  Mark obviously
hadn't seen a horse's cock before; it can be most exciting to an
impressionable teenage boy.  I know.

After I saw Mark and my brother head off in a safe direction, I went back
to the "office" and relived in my mind what I had just witnessed.  My load
followed Mark's into the toilet.



All Rights Reserved.  Copyright 2012.


To the reader: This is one of my stories I've written in one sitting.
Therefore, it may not have the quality of the stories that I've written
where I've given myself the opportunity to edit and revise.


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