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An Accidental Public Performance

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This occurred a year, maybe two, before I met Paul, who will be introduced in coming stories. I was 18 or 19 at the time, so, it all happened quite some time ago.

I was in college taking Business Administration, for what would ultimately turn out to be my last semester. I was a dishwasher at a local mall restaurant to pay the bills at the time.

There was one day a week that my classes at the college ended a few hours before my shift started at the restaurant. On that day I was always at the Mall too early for my shift, and would either hang out with the staff as they had their breaks in the staff room, or I would just walk around the Mall and watch the people.

This day, I don’t remember why, but for some reason I was horny. So much so, that as I roamed the Mall, all I could think about was how horny I was.

I went down to the washroom that was downstairs under music store at the front end of the Mall, by the bank. There was relatively unknown hallway that led to a stairwell that brought you down to a lower level with public washrooms. The facilities were so far out of the way however, that most of the public didn’t know about them, and the washrooms were usually empty. I think they were used by Mall employees more than by the public.

The door squeaked a bit as I opened it, and upon entering, the room looked empty. I don’t know what gave me the idea…but I peeked under all the stall doors to make sure I was indeed alone, and knowing that isveçbahis yeni giriş the squeaky door would tell if someone else entered, I decided this was the perfect opportunity for me to relieve myself of my pent up horniness.

I went into a stall, locked the door, and pulled my jeans and underwear down around my ankles, and sat myself down on the toilet seat. I remember I was also wearing a denim jacket with a massive famous rock band’s logo patched onto the back of it.

As soon as I sat, my cock rose to attention, in anticipation of what was to “cum”. I took it in my hand, and began stroking myself. I just wanted to get off, so I soon had a quick steady pace going, and I remember being really turned on by the fact that I was masturbating in a public place. Although I was alone, I tried to be quiet, but my breathing soon became staccato, and I didn’t concern myself with the occasional laboured “uh” escaping me.

I was well on my way to glory when I got an odd feeling. We have all had the feeling we were being watched at one time or another, and as I am sure you know, if you think you’re being watched, you probably are. That was the feeling I had.

I stopped my hand, and still holding my cock in my grip I looked up over my right shoulder to find a guy looking down on me from over the wall. I froze. I don’t remember exactly what he looked like, except to say that he looked like he was in his early twenties, was clean cut, and did not isveçbahis giriş seem the least bit threatening. He must have been squatting on the toilet seat when I came in, or I would have noticed him on my earlier check. (In hindsight, he may have been engaged in his own act of self-stimulation when I came in and interrupted him.) He was now obviously standing on the toilet seat, and had been watching me jerk myself off. I don’t know for how long.

I have no idea how long we stared at each other; I remember feeling the heat in my face as it surely turned beet-red. While at the time it seemed like an eternity, it was probably only a second or two when he broke the silence. “Please don’t stop,” he said softly. Obviously my unaggressive reaction to his presence made him comfortable that I wasn’t going to attack him.

To this day, the decision I made next still surprises me.

I slid back on the seat, resting my back against uplifted lid, and spread my knees (my ankles were bound by my pants and underwear)-this gave him a better view of my hand and my cock. I closed my eyes and resumed masturbating.

I was incredibly aroused to have a stranger watch me as I squeezed and stroked myself. I didn’t bother being quiet, and soon my breathing became laboured once again, and I panted and moaned as the pleasure grew. I was still listening for the squeak of the main bathroom door, but I was very much engrossed in the moment. I was thoroughly enjoying isveçbahis güvenilirmi the experience of having this anonymous guy watching me fuck myself.

I sighed loudly as my orgasm hit, and I remember several waves of cum shot into the air, landing in my pants and underwear at my feet, onto the toilet seat, and across my fingers and the back of my hand. Relief overtook me, and I sat there motionless for a moment, still holding my still rigid member.

Suddenly a panic hit me as the realization of what I had done sank in. It was quickly abated though, when I heard the stranger say “thank you”. I looked up again over my right shoulder- he smiled and winked.

I licked my cum off the back of my hand; I had never tasted cum before, not even my own, and I’m not sure why I did decided now was the time to try it – perhaps it was to entertain my voyeur – but I enjoyed the flavour. Then I grabbed some toilet paper, wiped up as much of the mess as I could out of my underwear and pants, and wiped down the seat. My voyeur slipped back behind the wall as I pulled up my pants, left the stall, washed at the sink and quickly vacated the washroom. The stranger remained behind in his stall. I probably could have peeked over and watched him do the same as I had just done for him, but I was nervous and a little bit frightened still by the whole situation.

I used the underground tunnels of the Mall to get into work the back way, so that I could not be followed. For my entire shift that night I was filled with a mixture of emotions, ranging from fear back to arousal.

That night when I got home, I removed the rock band logo from the back of the jacket.

The memory of this event has been a regular source of arousal when I have time alone.

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