What Are You Doing In There?

The next Saturday afternoon, I gave Gareth five minutes to settle himself into the gents and then followed him in.

The toilets didn't seem too busy that week and only the two cubicles furthest from the door were occupied. I assumed Gareth to be in the far one, and so went into the middle one, two away from his.

I sat down on the toilet seat and peered through the small hole, the size of a ten pence piece, in the partition into the next stall. My view was quite limited and the cubicle next to mine was dimly lit, but I could make out straightaway that I was looking at two male bodies, rather than one.

There was a lot of movement and it was difficult to make out exactly what was happening inside the cramped confines of the stall. I could see part of a guy's thigh and then another man's stubble; a pair of balls with a hand wanking the cock above them and then the other guy's nose pressing into some unidentifiable flesh.

They moved to one side and I saw the bottom part of Gareth's face peering through the large hole in the wall opposite me. Watching them and betraying just enough rhythmic movement for me to know he was wanking.

So that's why he was so keen to use these toilets every week: he was getting a free peep-show.

The guys' bodies lurched back into view, moving less quickly together.

I saw one guy's face from the side, licking at something. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and had a rough face with short dark hair; he might work on the nearby market.

What was he licking at? Was that a knee? a chest?

I realised abruptly, with equal doses of repulsion and fascination, that his face was pressed into the other man's arse crack. That he was licking at – feeding on – the other guy's arsehole. And that he was wanking the other guy's cock as he did it.

Before I had time to consider how I felt about see two guys doing that, the guy who'd been doing the arse-licking stood up and his cock, large and stiff, pointed momentarily towards the other man's backside.

The other man swung around and their cocks briefly touched. The guy who'd been having his arse eaten had the smaller cock of the two of them but his balls, lightly dusted with wisps of his gingery pubic hair, were much heftier. He also had a foreskin that looked like it wouldn't retract completely over his bell-end; the dark-haired guy's foreskin had, in contrast, been pulled fully back and his dark purple cock head glistened as though it had been polished.

The man with the smaller cock fell to his knees and started licking, kissing and sucking the dark haired guy's expectant organ. This was nothing like the insipid cartoon drawings of cock sucking scrawled onto the walls around me and carved into some of the desks at school; nor did it resemble the occasional photos I'd seen in magazines of surprised-looking women smoking cocks like cigars between pouting lips. This guy was fervently devouring the other man's organ; kneading it between his lips, caressing it with his tongue and slavering up and down its length with rapt enthusiasm. He was feasting on it with such pleasure and purpose that it was as if it were his own.

I had to admit that this was pretty amazing stuff to watch: I'd had no idea that men could have sex together with such passion and emotion.

Was this what interested my brother so much?

I wasn't finding the view as sexually exciting as Gareth obviously was – I don't remember, to be honest, whether or not I became aroused at all – but I could recognise, even back then in my early teens, the captivating beauty of what I was seeing. This was a form of sex unlike anything I'd seen or imagined; raw, intense and entirely masculine.

The ginger haired guy stood back up and the tip of his cock, half-covered with his foreskin, gently touched the wet ripened plum of his partner's. It looked as if the two men's cocks were kissing; it struck me as very unlikely that the two men's faces were doing anything so affectionate.

A condom was produced from somewhere and the dark haired guy rolled it swiftly and assuredly down the length of his large cock.

The ginger haired guy turned around, exposing his pale, hairless arse to his partner again, and his cheeks parted slightly as he bent over the bowl of the toilet.

I saw Gareth staring intently through the large hole. His face was agog, his eyes planted firmly on the arse of the bending man. His head nodded almost comically with the rapid rhythm of his fist on his cock. He was about to see one man fuck another up the bum and he was evidently highly excited by the prospect.

I was surprised at how difficult the two men found it to do something that I'd always believed – from after-lights-out jokes and schoolyard stories – to be so simple that it would be possible for it to happen almost by accident. The dark haired guy really had to push and strain to force his cock into the other man, and the ginger haired guy had to adjust his position, bending lower and opening his legs wider, and to grab the buttocks of his arse to pull them open before he was able to take an inch or so of it.

It took a couple of minutes before the dark haired guy's cock was far enough into his partner for him to begin slowly fucking him.

I wasn't as disgusted by what I was watching as I might have imagined I would have been. I was pretty sure that I would never want to do anything like it myself, in either position, but seeing other men doing it wasn't particularly repulsive.

I suppose I'd have probably expected – again from listening to too many stories at school – the dark haired guy's cock to look a lot more unpleasant as it slid in and out of the other man's arse. But, aside from the odd discoloured smear or two, it looked as clean and slick as it had when it was being sucked.

There were rumours at school that a small group of sixth form boys enjoyed doing this to one another and I could now see that, if a guy happened to have a taste for it, fucking another male really wasn't as grotesque as most people made it out to be.

The dark haired guy's cock was pumping in and out faster and he grabbed his partner's hips to hold him more firmly. His thrusts into the ginger guy's arse became deeper and more powerful and his loose-hanging balls thwacked against the other man's thighs with every stab of his cock.

Without warning, the dark haired guy withdrew his cock and, following a brief whispered conversation, the two men awkwardly changed positions inside the cramped cubical.

Now the dark haired guy was bending over the toilet, exposing an arse far hairier and with much rounder buttocks than the ginger guy's.

I thought, with a smile, "Oh wow! They're taking it in turns!" For some reason that really appealed to me.

There was a tearing sound and the ginger guy smeared something which looked like wallpaper paste inside the dark haired guy's arse crack and around his hole. A condom was rolled down his cock – the tightness of his foreskin making that more difficult than the dark haired guy had found it – and then he shuffled into position to push his cock up the other man's arse.

It was then that I noticed that Gareth was no longer watching what was happening: the hole opposite me was empty and the brightness inside that cubicle showed that the door of it was wide open.

I jumped and flushed the toilet behind me. My brother must have cum and gone outside to find me.

I hurried out of the cubicle, leaving the men to their fun, and then pushed my way out through the main door into the bright daylight outside.

Gareth was sitting on the bench opposite the door of the toilet.

He said, "What were you doing in there?"

I smiled at all the times I'd asked him the same question and said, "Just taking a piss."

He got up from the bench and we started walking towards the shops.

I was wondering if he was going to tell me about the two men he'd been watching; something like, "Ugh – you'll never guess what I saw in there! You're going to be so grossed out!"

I kind of hoped he would because it would have meant that he'd just happened to notice two guys having sex on that particular week and that this wasn't part of some weird hobby he'd developed.

But he didn't say anything.

I even tried to prompt him with, "It seemed pretty quiet in there this week. Guys weren't fighting to get into the same cubicle..."

But he just nodded and looked impassive.

So I figured it was pretty clear that what he'd seen was no surprise and he'd been watching a lot of stuff like this before. This week hadn't been just a one-off.

I didn't go back into the gents for a few weeks and instead chose to sit outside, waiting for Gareth and wondering what was going on within its dank confines. But eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I ventured inside for what would turn out to be my final visit.

I assumed Gareth to be in his preferred spot, shut away in the farthest stall from the door, and so wanted to position myself in the middle cubicle so that I could watch what was going on without Gareth realising.

I had to wait a short while for that cubicle to become unoccupied. I offered another guy – a young lad in a combat jacket not much older than Gareth and I – the chance to jump ahead of me and go into the one next door to Gareth's. I don't know what he thought my motives were, but he gratefully accepted with a broad grin.

After a few minutes the occupant of the middle cubicle noisily finished up, spent an age fiddling with his clothing, and then flushed the toilet and came out.

I immediately shot in before any of the other loitering men could beat me to it, and clicked the door shut behind me.

I wiped the toilet seat and then sat down on it to peer through the small hole to see what the guy wearing the combat jacket in the next cubicle was doing. I was careful to stay well back from the hole in case he happened to see me; he hadn't looked like the type of guy who'd turn violent, but he might cause an embarrassing commotion if he saw me watching him.

It looked like he was staring through the large hole which I knew had been carved out of the partition opposite; the partition adjoining his stall with Gareth's. His head was moving a little as if he was nodding. Perhaps Gareth was showing him his cock and the lad was nodding his approval...?

Just then he pulled back from the partition and stood up.

I saw that my brother's erection – it's large size and his blond pubes making it unmistakable – was poking through the hole and was wet with the spit of the guy in the combat jacket.

Gareth quickly withdrew his cock and the bottom of his face appeared at the hole. He was nodding enthusiastically.

The guy in the combat jacket had already pulled his jeans and underwear down and approached the hole with his half-hard cock – looking long and thin – in his hand. He carefully fed through the hole and, presumably, into my brother's eager mouth, and then his backside started flexing as he rhythmically bucked his hips against the partition.

I felt irritated by my own naivety. Gareth wasn't just watching other guys' peepshows: he was trading blowjobs as well. It seemed immediately obvious to me, once I'd seen it happening, that his interests here were far more than just voyeuristic. Why else would he choose the cubicle with the biggest hole in the wall when he could have watched other guys playing around together from a far more discreet vantage point?

I could hear Gareth's mouth slurping as he fed on the other lad's cock, trying to take as much of it as he could. The guy in the combat jacket's thrusts grew faster and stronger as he became more aroused by the actions of my brother's lips and tongue.

They kept that up for a minute or so and then the guy withdrew from the hole and Gareth licked his lips. The guy's cock was now fully stiff – my brother, if nothing else, had clearly learned how to give a good blowjob during the hours he'd spent in here – and, although it didn't look much longer than it had when he'd pushed it into the hole, it had thickened up considerably.

Gareth stood up to take his turn and carefully directed his cock through the rough, splintered hole. It now looked even more excited than it had a few moments earlier: it's stem was reddened from being masturbated and the fattened bell-end was now a deep purple colour with dribbles of precum oozing from the puckered piss slit.

The guy in the combat jacket fell to his knees in front of my brother's organ and started licking the beads of precum from the head of it and sweeping his lips, in open-mouthed kissing motions, up and down the swollen length of it. Then he hungrily took as much of Gareth's cock into his mouth as he could and began pumping it with his lips as he sucked it noisily.