Date: Sat, 27 Feb 2016 17:14:23 -0700
From: Ernie Freuler <freuleraz@gmail.com>
Subject: Understall Surprise

The usual disclaimers apply: for adult readers only. Contains graphic
depictions of sexual activity between men, some of whom are related.

The following story is fictional. Any resemblance to actual person, living
or dead is purely coincidental. This work is the property of the author and
legal action would be taken if it is reproduced, modified or reworked
without the author's written consent. All rights reserved.

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Understall Surprise

I've been a cocksucker since I was 13 years old and my best friend Jeremy
and I swapped BJs in his secret fort in the woods behind his house one
summer weekend. By the time I was 16, I had figured out that some public
bathrooms were great places to find horny guys looking for a willing,
talented, and wet mouth. Some toilets had gloryholes cut between the
stalls, or next to the urinals. Some places only had small peepholes, so
you could just get a glance at the guy next to you stroking his dick, and
if you wanted to suck it for him, you had to tap your foot, wait for his
response, and motion under the stall for him to get on his knees and slide
under the partition until you could get a look, feel and taste of his
throbbing hard meat. It usually didn't take long to get a man to cum, and I
never disappointed them by swallowing every drop of jizz they'd be willing
to pump down my throat. Sometimes I could get them horny enough to let me
slide my finger in their ass and rub their prostate. Usually drove them
nuts and made them cum harder.

There was a favorite park bathroom I enjoyed more frequently. The park
itself was nothing spectacular, named after some local businessman who
donated the land.

Paved pathways led from the parking area to a half dozen graffiti-covered
concrete picnic tables under rusting iron ramadas. There was a baseball
diamond with an ancient, faded, warped set of splintering wooden bleachers
off to one side and a small playground on the other side, most of the
equipment either broken, rusted, or covered in indecipherable graffiti. The
park was almost hidden behind a few small manufacturing, assembly and
plastics companies, as well as a couple distribution warehouses. and was
pretty much forgotten. The far end of the park was maked by an acre or so
of thick tall brush and woods that ran the entire length.


The industrial park itself was only half completed. The forecasted wave of
tech companies setting up shop there never materialized. But the local
politicos who had assured the voters of the need for the construction had
long since pocketed their kickbacks and fled to Washington, where they
blended in with the corruption and callousness of the government
seamlessly, and we never heard from them again. When the city had to trim
their budget, the groundskeeping and maintainence for this place saved them
enough so that the public thought they were hard at work. No one mowed the
grass or maintained the bushes or ramadas, and the lighting had become
minimal at best. The restrooms, while functioning, weren't in the best
condition, but the openings along the top of the walls kept the air
flowing, and enough outside light filtering in to make it useful. The
plumbing was sturdy enough and never seemed to malfunction.


There were three stalls, the partitions constructed of ¾ inch plywood
and 2X4's, and painted a bland bluish-gray. There was a gloryhole, a crude
oval about 4 inches from top to bottom, and a few inches across, cut
between the middle stall and the handicap stall, furthest from the urinal.
The wall next to the trough urinal had a couple of small holes drilled to
give anyone a good view of the guys standing and taking a piss. There were
also a couple small peepholes between the first and middle stalls, but no
attempt had been made to add a full size gloryhole. Sliding under the stall
was the only way to get or give head, or any other activity, between those
stalls. It wasn't a difficult maneuver, since the walls between the toilet
stalls were all cut about six inches higher than most standard public
bathrooms. The limbo style shimmy under the partition can be more
challenging for some guys, and they may end up missing out on some great
anonymous cocksucking. Gloryholes or Understall slide, I was turned on
either way. As long as I got some horny man's cock in my mouth, and an
eager mouth on my tool, I was happy.

I had been giving and getting BJs, handjobs, rimjobs, and more at this
toilet for over 10 years. After a while, you start finding regular
visitors. Of course, I was there usually 3 to 4 times a week, so I guess I
was a regular too. There were a number of guys I had done many times over,
and there were some who I just didn't click with. Some guys I only knew by
the size/shape of their cock, or the sounds they made while cumming, or the
particular taste or smell of them. Some guys had unique physical qualities
I remembered, a specific scar or tattoo, or a unique bend to their
cock. There was a man I encountered, maybe in his early 40's, who had a
prosthetic right leg. When he started jacking in the stall, he took his
prosthetic leg off, and leaned it in the corner. It made it much easier for
him to slide under the stall partition, and I gave him a real satisfying
blowjob. I knew there were a few of the men who worked in the nearby
factories and warehouses who would sneak away during lunch, or after work
for a quick nut. I could usually catch a glimpse of a company logo on a
shirt when I glanced through the gloryhole or peepholes.

Some men I had stood side by side with at the trough, and we'd be
jacking/sucking/fucking each other. But all were just casual acquaintances.
We may have glanced at each other's faces, even kissed passionately, but we
never really saw each other. Forgetfulness was important in these types of
places. It was my opinion that cruising spots like public toilets and parks
weren't meant to be social gathering places. Most men, myself included,
usually made quick work of leaving the bathroom stalls or the trough after
we'd cum, or after we'd swallowed a load. Most men didn't want to risk
being seen by someone they knew. I liked having a very limited relationship
with these men and I certainly wasn't there looking for a long-term
relationship. Men came here to have anonymous sex. Straight men came here
to satisfy their curiosity, or scratch that occasional itch for cock.
Faceless cocks being stroked by unknown hands. Nameless mouths swallowing
strange cum. If you did happen to recognize one of the participants, you
needed to keep the knowledge to yourself. Discretion was always important.
Even to someone like me. I didn't have a wife or family, or a career or a
standing in the community that could be jeopardized if it were revealed I
was on my knees in a dark dirty men's room, swallowing numerous
indistinguishable cocks during my lunch hour.

But sometimes you couldn't help crossing paths with your fellow park pervs
in a totally different setting. Then you just had to play it by ear. And,
as some spray paint philosopher wrote in big letters on the wall opposite
the urinals, `Be Cool Bro" For example...


There was a local businessman who owned an appliance store, and regularly
appeared in his own TV commercials, and with his wife and kids during the
holiday season.  He, and even his family, always looked very uncomfortable
in front of the camera. They were hokey and cheesy commercials, with a few
finding a second life on YouTube.

I had first seen him in the park bathroom over 3 years ago. I never made
him feel like a celebrity, never even acknowledged that I might know who he
was. His importance to me was the beautiful, thick, veiny 61/2 inch uncut
cock. I had sucked his cock under the stall twice and stood next to him at
the urinal with two of my greased up fingers plunging in and out of his
clenching butthole while he grunted and steadily beat off, with my tongue
jammed down his throat, until he pulled back and said `Cumming!', shoving
his spasming dick down my throat and holding my head against his crotch. I
pulled back as two last spurts of his cum splashed on my mustache and chin,
and I stood up and kissed him again, letting him taste his own cum. He
offered to suck me off, but I declined, deciding to wait until later to
drain my nuts. About a month after that encounter, I went to his store to
honestly look at purchasing a new microwave. He immediately recognized me,
and I could tell he was very nervous, afraid I was somehow going to expose
him. When we moved away from most of the customers, I quietly told him not
to worry, and he relaxed. By the time I had made my decision, we even began
a little harmless flirting. At one point I reached down to check out a
lower display model, and casually brushed the back of my hand across his
basket. He was a bit surprised, but gave me sly smile and, turning away
from the other customers, reached down and groped and adjusted his bulge. I
echoed his motion, rubbing my swelling cock. With a rather lewd smile, he
insisted on showing me some other models in the far corner of the store's
`clearance' section, far from the dozen or so other customers and his
staff. We stood behind a slightly dented freezer, hidden from sight, face
to face, and rubbed, groped and stroked each other's cocks through our
jeans until we were both raging hard. I looked down to see a nice dark
circle of precum at the head of my cock as it pushed against the denim. His
bulge was substantial, and he slid his hand in the waistband and rearranged
his package, preferring to `dress right'. I nodded while he found the
microwave I was purchasing and we returned to the sales counter. One of his
other sales staff, a tall, slender man with a thick sliver mustache,
noticed his swollen, adjusted basket and quickly looked up at his boss, and
then over to me, his eyes wide with shock? Curiosity? Jealousy?  I smiled,
gave him a quick `thumbs up', then tugged briefly at my crotch, and as he
glanced down at my motion, my thumb rubbed across the still dark wet spot
of precum. I brought my thumb up to my mouth and lightly licked it. He
raised his eyebrows, and his thick mustache twitched in a quick smile, and
he went back to the order he was writing.


I liked making regular visits to that park. Some of the other `regulars'
had commented that if they saw my car in the lot, or my bike at the rack,
they knew that there would be numerous loads of jizz shot through the air,
pumped up a gaping asshole, or swallowed by a greedy cumslut.

And then one Monday afternoon, I had an encounter that flipped my world
around. I had been in the park bathroom, sitting in the stall next to the
urinals. It had been a pretty quiet day. I had been there nearly a half
hour, and the only men who came in were a pair of homeless guys, both
bearded and grimy looking, and both appearing to be somewhat drunk. They
were chuckling about some joke as they walked in, dropped their backpacks
and bedrolls and stumbled up to the trough, fishing out two average looking
dicks. The taller one, with a grey beard and a belly, had an uncut dick,
and had to peer over his gut to take a look at where he was aiming it. He
skinned back the hood and sighed as he let loose a full stream of piss. The
other guy was smaller and skinnier, with a thick grayish mustache and
unruly grey hair on his head. I could also see ample chest hair pouring out
from the collar of his dirty t-shirt. His dick was bigger than the other
guy's, and cut, The head and shaft were wide, and it looked like he might
have been getting a bit aroused. He gave his buddy's dick a long look as he
shook his, trying to start the stream. The other guy just kept his eyes
forward, staring at nothing in particular. The smaller guy also glanced
over to the stalls, noticing my boots, and the dime-sized peephole in the
wooden stall wall. Then he turned his attention back to relieving
himself. The taller one finished, shook his cock a couple more times and
turned and left, saying `I'll wait for you outside.' The little mustached
guy glanced back toward the stall, finished pissing, but tugged on his cock
a couple more times, shaking it, letting it swell some. He sidestepped
closer to the stall, trying to see any activity through the small
peepholes. I whispered `Looks nice', to which he replied, `Wanna suck it?'
It was quickly becoming fully hard, and looked to be a nice thick cock,
maybe a little over 6 inches. `Maybe later, thanks.' That seemed to satisfy
him, and he stuffed his cock back in his jeans and left with his backpack.

About 15 minutes later, I heard the familiar sound of a car pulling into
the parking lot. I had ridden my bike that day, and had it locked to the
rack along the side of the building.


After a few moments, I heard a door open and close, and footsteps crunched
along the gravel toward the entrance to the bathroom. I couldn't get a good
look at who the man was as he walked past my stall, entering the middle,
fastening the door, and immediately unbuckling his jeans, and sliding them
down past his knees as he sat down.


I glanced down, making note of his light grey Nikes, his Wranglers, a black
leather belt, and the dark hair covering his calves and thighs. I didn't
look any closer, waiting for him to make the first move. I sat back up,
leaning back a bit and spreading my legs, sliding my feet in front of me a
bit. I licked the palm of my hand and slicked up my cock, quietly squeezing
and stroking my shaft, feeling it fill up and lengthen. I gripped the base
with my left hand and began rubbing and squeezing the flared cockhead,
loving the way it throbbed and drooled the sweet precum. I watched it run
down the shaft and glisten as it gathered in my dark pubic hair. I
shuddered as I spread it along the whole shaft and began a slow steady
stroking rhythm, enjoying the wet, sloppy sound it made, and not trying to
be quiet about it. I moaned a bit, and my breathing was getting heavier and
faster. I knew the guy in the next stall knew exactly what I was doing, and
I was hoping he was doing the same.


I glanced down to see his foot closer to mine, tapping. I straightened up a
bit, moved my foot and tapped in return. My hairy legs were spread wide,
pressed against the partition on either side, and I felt the guy's hand
reach under and rub up and down along my hairy, flexed calf muscle. I slid
over a little and his hand moved up and pawed, stroked and groped my thick
muscled thigh.

`Oh, fuck that feels nice.' I heard him whisper. I turned sideways and his
hand retreated as I knelt down and slid under the partition, like some
perverted limbo contest.

Immediately I felt his hands stroking my cock, cupping my balls. A hot wet
mouth engulfed my drooling cockhead and I grunted, instinctively pushing my
hips up, forcing more of my dick in his mouth. He didn't resist, but moved
one hand to my clenched, firm, flexing asscheeks. As I fucked his face, I
felt his fingers rubbing back and forth across my hungry hole.

I reached under the barrier and got my hand on the back of his head and
pushed it down as I slid more of my hard, slick cock down his throat. There
was a moment's pause, and then I felt my hardon slip further in, and his
nose and mouth were pressed against my crotch, drool and precum dripping
off my balls onto the bathroom floor. He pulled back, gasping. `Ohmygod
thank you!" he panted breathlessly. He resumed slobbering on my cock,
drenching my balls with spit, making them rise up in anticipation of a mind
blowing orgasm. But I wasn't ready to cum just yet.

I pulled back and his hands reached out, one wrapped around my cock, the
other cupping and fondling my balls, and reaching back and poking and
prodding at my winking, pulsing butthole. I liked watching him jack me. I
saw a gold wedding band on the ring finger of his left hand. Married guy,
most likely. His other hand was roving over my furry belly, bush, legs, and
under my nuts to my greedy fuckhole. When he hesitated, I just whispered
`Go ahead, slide it in there, buddy.' His hand retreated and I could hear
him sucking his fingers in his mouth, getting them nice and wet. They
returned, cool and moist, and insistent in their desire to dive into my
butthole.. I reached back, grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them, lowering
myself a bit. His index and second finger slipped in and as they opened me
up, I felt the amazing sensation of being taken over by another man. My
nipples got hard, I shook and pushed my ass down further, My dick throbbed
again as he pushed against my quivering prostate gland, and I was rewarded
with a thick stream of clear precum erupting from the piss slit of my rock
hard cock, It ran down the underside of my shaft, over my balls and ran
over the stranger's forearm as It flexed and turned, sliding his fingers in
and out. I looked down to see the thick, veiny forearm, the underside
facing up, slick and gooey with my precum. I noticed there was a tattoo in
the center. Nothing remarkable. Black outlines of a heart, filled in with
red ink, now faded. A light blue ribbon wound around the heart twice. There
were two words etched across the ribbon, but I had trouble concentrating on
what they were because the stranger was working my hole faster, and I was
dangerously close to cumming, which I wasn't in the mood for yet.


I grunted, pulling back quickly, feeling his fingers slurp out of my
now-tender fuckhole.

His wet, slick hand layed there, and I heard him give a disappointed little
groan. I looked closer at the tattoo before he pulled his hand back and saw
more clearly the two words written on the ribbon around the heart: Frannie
Forever. My heart jumped a couple of times, and I almost felt like I
couldn't catch my breath. I heard the man on the other side ask, a little
worried, "Is everything okay?"  Between deep breaths, I managed to say,
with a little laugh, "Yeah, it's awesome, I just didn't want to cum before
I got a chance to work on your cock. Can I work your hole like you did
mine?"  We still spoke in whispers, raspy and breathless and horny. I was
pretty sure he wouldn't recognize my voice.

"Yeah, my hole's nice & open." He replied, "My neighbor came home real late
last night, and drunk. His wife's out of town for a couple weeks, so he's
been pretty horned up. He calls and invites me over for a beer. But when I
walk in, he's usually naked watching gangbang porn and stroking his fat
cock. He always likes to make me suck him and bend over and take his thick
Mexican dick when he's drunk."  I couldn't believe what he was telling
me. But real or not, the image of him being some other man's bitch kept me
raging hard.

 I was feeling a little dizzy, and the whole place seemed to feel a little
unreal. But I couldn't let the guy on the other side know what I was
suspecting. I had to be absolutely sure. He obviously didn't know who I
was, and I didn't want to shatter his psyche by disclosing anything too
soon.

And, more importantly, I really wanted to get a chance to suck his cock and
finger his willing ass.


"Gimme your cock" I grunted. I scooted back as the stranger slid the lower
half of his body under the stall, presenting a very arousing picture.

His legs were covered with dark hair, like mine. His shirt was pulled up
and I could see the thick mat of fur that covered his stomach up to his
chest. His pubes were thick and dark, also. There was a noticeable amount
of gray hair among the dark brown in his pubes and across his stomach. His
thighs were thick, but not as defined as mine. Still, I saw the muscles
along the top bunching and flexing as he sought a comfortable position. I
ran my hands along both thighs, eliciting a sigh and a moan, and a noticed
jump from his hard slender cock. It also released a copious stream of
precum which dripped along the underside of his circumsized cock to his
fair sized balls, which he shaved. I reached my left hand and gripped his
balls firmly, but not too tight, and gave them a slight steady pull, which
the man in the other stall appreciated immensely, hissing his consent. My
right hand moved down his left thigh to his knee, and over to the side of
his knee joint. And that's when I felt it. The scar that ran from the
middle of his knee about 4 inches down. The remaining evidence of his knee
replacement surgery 5 years ago. I had spent weeks cleaning it, changing
the bandages, helping him with the physical therapy. Holding him during
those first few painful steps, and watching as the pain was replaced with
determination. His wife wasn't able to help with the lifting and pushing
and motivation, but she did what she'd done for 56 years. She provided
encouragement, and a comfortable home, and a home-cooked meal. She was his
Frannie Forever. My mother.


And here, in this forgotten, dingy, dirty, public toilet, laid before me,
insistent and mesmerizing, irresistible and forbidden, was my father's hard
cock, begging for attention. And his fuckhole, already well used and hungry
for the next assault.


I shut down any voices in my head that said I shouldn't go through with
this, and all I could hear was our excited, heavy breathing and the
occasional moans and sighs as both of us got more aroused. I could barely
hear him say from the other side of the toilet stall partition, "Suck it,
suck it, suck it."

I grabbed the base of his hard cock, which made him twitch. I leaned over
and slid his hard throbbing manhood into my mouth. I only stopped for a
moment when the head pressed against the back of my throat. I easily
suppressed the gag reflex and pushed a little and felt the shaft bend
slightly and finish its' intrusion into my gullet. He bucked his hips,
keeping his throbbing shaft pistoning in and out of my throat. My two
fingers easily opened his puffy ass ring and I shoved them in to the base
with no resistance, But his rectal muscles began squeezing and massaging my
fingers, and as I pulled back I felt his prostate. If his story about
getting fucked by the drunk Mexican next door was true, I knew it had to
have been thoroughly battered last night and would be pretty sensitive. I
lightly brushed my fingers across it, making his cock throb and deposit
more thick sweet precum down my throat, He bounced upwards, with a fairly
loud `Oh FUCK!' and I nearly smacked my head on the toilet paper dispenser
on the stall partition. I decided to finish this hot encounter quickly, so
I shoved my fingers in and out of his ass, twisting and pushing and making
his prostate flood my mouth with precum. I raised my head up, with just his
cockhead still in my mouth, and began a steady up and down bobbing of my
head, feeling his balls steadily move up, ready to release their load. I
was also jacking my cock, with was leaving puddles of precum on the floor,
as well as globs flung across the stall, some landing on his hairy thighs.

My dad was nearly incomprehensible, and his body was thrashing and
jerking. He slowed down, and said, `Oh god, I'm gonna shoot!' His body
stiffened, and he began grunting `Fuck yeah fuckyeahfuckyeahyeahFUUUUUUCK!'
His anal walls clenched, gripping my fingers tightly, and I felt his
prostate pulse 3 or 4 times. His shaft pulsed, and my mouth was filled with
a salty, sweet, smooth warm fluid. I swallowed it all and took my mouth off
his still throbbing cock, as another thick white blob of fluid flowed out
and down the shaft.


I nudged his knees, and my dad slid his naked lower body back to his
stall. I was still stroking my cock, and knew I was very close to blowing
my load. I scooted my crotch under the stall and whispered hurriedly, `Suck
my cock, I'm gonna cum!' I felt his warm mouth engulf my head and steadily
slide all the way down to the base. He began bobbing his head, and I could
feel my orgasm building. I slowly began sliding back to my stall, my dad so
engrossed in tasting another man's load that he never really noticed. When
I said, `Fuck, I'm cumming!', his hand slid under my shirt and was rubbing
my hairy chest. The first two shots of cum gave him what he wanted and he
swallowed them eagerly. He pulled back and I grabbed my cock and stroked
it, blasting two more thick globs against his cheek and chin. He opened his
eyes, looking up at me, the realization slowly dawning on him.

I was still milking my cock, and I said, very out of breath, `Fuck yeah,
Dad. You are a great cocksucker.' I rubbed my cockhead across his face,
along his mustache, leaving little drops and smears of cum all over his
face. `Almost as good as me.' Dad just lay there, staring shocked and
silent. He made a half hearted attempt to wriggle away, but I just put my
hands on his chest and said, calmly, `Dad, look at me. It's OK. You don't
have to be afraid. I'm not going to say anything. This is just between us,
okay?' He nodded, still not quite sure what was happening.

I adjusted our positions so that my father's head was in my lap, his cheek
pressed against my softening cock. A park bathroom stall with cold concrete
floors isn't exactly the most comfortable place to try and enjoy the
'afterglow' of sex, but we managed. I leaned down, and raised his head up
to meet mine in a soft, but intense deep kiss. I sucked the remaining cum
out of his mustache, our tongues wrapped around each other. I pulled back a
bit, and looked squarely at my father and said, `I love you, Dad.'

'I love you too, son' he replied.

We got up, put our clothes back in order and stood looking at each other.
Before I left, I said, 'And the next time Mr. Mendoza calls you to come
over for a beer, let me know. I think I might want to join you.'