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College Days-[GH-99]-part-1-of-1

When I went off to college everything changed. Like lots of guys, I had some same-sex experimentation when I was a younger. I also had my share of stashed porn when I was a teenager. One magazine I treasured for a while was a copy of Penthouse. In addition to lots of naked women, which was great, I remember the issue I managed to get my hands on also had pictures of a man and a women posing. There were no hard dicks but it was definitely a turn-on.

The other was a copy of Playgirl that I found in an apartment complex dumpster when I was dumpster diving for aluminum can. I was definitely turned on by it. Even though all the guys in it were naked, they were all soft. But I masturbated to it as much as I did to the naked women in the Penthouse I had stashed with it. This was the first real hint I had that I was attracted as much to guys as I was to girls. As a teenager growing up 70s that was a pretty terrifying thought.

What happened later in college wasn't accidental. There was a definite curiosity that I was aware of and afraid of at the same time. Something I wanted to explore.

I went to Berkeley in California far from small town Ennis, Texas and one day during my sophomore year when I was nineteen I had a conversation with Erick a friend that changed everything. I’d recently been dumped by my girlfriend, Cassondra so I was available. It's worth mentioning that while Cassondra and I had done a lot, we never had sex. I was still a virgin.

Anyway, Erick told me that he’d walked into one of the restrooms in the Department of the Arts building and stumbled upon two guys going at it. It’s been so long that I can't really remember any more if he told me if they were at the urinals or in a stall or what act he had seen. I only remember that he walked out totally disgusted by what he’d see. He said there was all sorts of gay graffiti in the bathroom. Inwardly, I had a different reaction. If there was sex going on in there, I wanted to find out what that graffiti said.

It was a couple of weeks before I got up the courage go. One night in late January, I went to the restroom that Erick had mentioned. It was about six p.m., late enough so that there wouldn't be a lot of people in the building. The restroom had a row of urinals, which were unoccupied, and four stalls including a handicapped stall in the corner. The middle stall was occupied so I took the stall to its right.

The walls of the stall were covered with graffiti. As I read it, it was mostly along the lines of "suck here 2 p.m. Tuesdays" and pictures of cocks made with markers. But it also had something I had never seen before: A hole just next to the toilet paper dispenser that went all the way through to the occupied stall next to me. Now, I'm more than familiar with what that hole is and what it's for, but at the time I was very naïve and had no idea what it was for.

The guy in the next stall did though. From what I could hear he was jacking off and certainly giving me more than enough signals as to his intentions.

I made some grunting noises as though I was taking a crap in response. I wasn't at all sure what to do or what I even wanted to do.

But eventually my curiosity and probably my horniness got the better of me. For the first and possibly last time in a situation like this, I said something to the guy in the next stall. "I've never heard someone doing that in the stall next to me," I told him.

"Do you want to see it?"

"Yes," I stammered.

He stood up and quickly pushed his cock through the glory hole.

It was incredible. It still embedded in my memory as one of the biggest cocks I've ever seen and I always try to remember how it could have possibly fit through the opening. It was white, uncut and thick. His cockhead was a large, reddish/purple mushroom and I could see the huge veins running up and down its length.

To this day, it’s the kind of cock I'm attracted to.

"Do you want to touch it?" he asked.

I told him the truth, "I don't know."

But after a little prodding, he knew the answer was yes when I started to stroke it.

By this time, my own six and a half inch cock was also rock hard and sticking up like a flag pole. He let me stroke him for a couple of minutes and then he asked me to put mine through the hole.

I’m a short guy so I remember having to stand on my tippy-toes to reach the hole. When I did he grasped it in his hand. When his fingers wrapped around it, it gave me one of the most glorious feelings I'd had.

He stroked and fondled it for a few minutes and then let it go. Before I could object, he said, “I’m going to put my cock back through again.”

When it came back through I wrapped my fingers around it and started slowly stroking it. I stroked it a few times, marveling at how hard yet soft it was. Then he asked, “Do you want to suck on it?”

I'm not even sure if I said yes or not. I just remember felling to my knees against the wall with his cock hot in my hand. Leaning forward, I tentatively guided it into my mouth. As my lips wrapped around the shaft my mouth was suddenly full of my first man cock. I remember he made a comment about not using teeth, so I made an effort to cover my teeth with my lips and tried hard to use my tongue.

I sucked and moved my mouth on his thick shaft for what seemed like forever, he withdrew his cock and told me, “Put yours back through.”

In the blink of an eye my cock was engulfed in his warm mouth and I received another unexpected wave of pleasure. I couldn’t believe the way he was sucking my cock into his mouth. His tongue was licking the frenulum, that indentation on the underside of my cock where the head meets the shaft. My knees were getting weak, when he suddenly stopped and said, “It would be easier if we didn't have this wall between?”

But that was too much too fast for me. That meant he would see who I was and I couldn't handle that thought, so I told him, “I’m not ready for that yet.”

He said, “Put your cock back in the hole then.”

I felt my throbbing cock slipping back into his hot mouth as I stuck it back through the hole. I think he was anxious for me to cum because he picked up the pace, sucking me deeper and harder.

I thrust my hip against the wall as the first spasm hit and a gush of thick, steamy cum hit the back of his throat. He swallowed quickly but not fast enough, the second shot of cum filled his mouth.

With each spasm of my throbbing cock, I found myself enjoying cumming in his mouth more and more.

Finally, my cock stopped its flow of cum and just twitched in stranger’s mouth every time he ran his tongue along the sensitive underside. He didn’t want to let go. I had to pull forcibly pull it out of his mouth and back through the glory hole.

Suddenly conscious of what I’d just done, I hurriedly got my pants straightened out and without so much as a thank you I ran from the stall, out of the restroom and out of the building into the night, as I fled down the sidewalk my heart beating so hard that I thought it was going to explode in my chest.

At that moment, I thought I was lucky to have escaped. From what I don’t know but I still felt lucky.

I felt guilty and horrible and yet at the same time I felt excited. I just done something secret and dirty but crazy exciting. I’d just had a random stranger's beautiful cock in my mouth.

Despite my solemn vow not to, I eventually went back…a lot.

And on these subsequent trips I found notes that led me to other restroom in other buildings throughout the campuses.

I started cruising the different restroom during the day between classes and at night after classes when the buildings were more or less deserted.

My ‘success’ ratio was pretty low. I’d been lucky and hit the jackpot that first time. There weren't always guys there or they weren't always the type guys I was looking for. Sometimes I'd sit in a stall for an hour and no one would show. Other times, things would be so busy I couldn't get in a stall.

The second time I scored was strange to say the least. It was the same stalls as before, but this time I was in the center stall and he was in the one to the right. Again it was after classes and the building was deserted. I was there first. He knew exactly what he wanted. He was already unzipping his pants as he entered the stall. One step and he was shoving his hard cock through the hole. I went to my knees and wrapped my lips around it but before I could start to suck it down the cock pulsated hard on my lips and a hot stream of cum squirted out and down my throat. It shot so hard and fast I didn't have any warning and I started to gag on it. I swallowed quickly, but some of the salty fluid came out the corner of my mouth.

As fast as it came through the hole, the cock slid out of my mouth and was out of the hole just as fast. .

I learned to pick up the signals, eye contact, a nod, a quick grab to the crotch, though I was also really good at pretending that I had no idea what was going on. I had a lot to lose so I didn't want anyone to know that's what I was there for, unless their cock was sticking through the hole and in my mouth, of course.

It was like an entire underground sub-culture of guys that no one knew about on campus.

Eventually, I saw patterns emerge that most people were oblivious to. It was all anonymous, but eventually those of us who frequented these restrooms knew each other by sight.

You'd sometimes run into a guy walking out of the restroom as you were walking in. After that happened two or three times, even though you never speak of it you both knew about the other. And sometimes, you'd turn right around and walk back in after him. You'd know who the other ‘trolls’ were and if you had specific tastes, like I did, you’d sometimes just wait a guy out who wasn't your type.

If the Internet had been in full swing like it is now, I’ll bet I would have met a lot more guys back then. As it was, I counted myself lucky that I never once in two-plus years ran into anyone I knew on my rounds. Of course if they were already in the stall or entered after I did I didn’t know who they were. So I could have been blowing my brother and not known it.

But I still think that the most exciting aspect of doing what I was doing was the secrecy. The dirty feeling. The knowing that I was sucking a cock or jacking off at school. It was the same feeling you'd get from having an illicit make out session with a girlfriend or getting a hand job from a girl while her parents were asleep upstairs. The idea that you could get caught added an element of danger and made it even more enticing.

There was no ‘relationship,’ no ‘dating,‘ no ‘drama,” Just getting off. It wasn’t about the guy, it was about his cock. And that experience still colors the way I feel about guys to this day.