Trip to a Tea Room

The start of a new semester has brought returning, as well as a new hot crop of college-age beefcakes for me to salivate over. The only problem is that none of them cruise the bathrooms. I sat in the stall on Monday for a good hour before anyone came along and sat down beside me in the accompanying stall, and he wasn't what I call drop dead fucking gorgeous. He was this skinny black twink with braids and toothpick thighs. I studied his dick through the glory hole. I signaled him with my finger to stick it through for sucking. It was of average length, cut. I drew in closer to smell it. It wasn't clean. It reeked of sweat and piss, so I passed on pleasuring him. I tapped it signaling him to retract his dick back through the hole. The two of us sat there in the dank bathroom waiting for the same thing. It didn't take long for someone to enter. I thought it was this white dude who kept frequenting the bathroom, one of those obnoxious assholes who can't stand to see another guy get some action. I'm not sure if it was him or not, really. All I heard was piss pelting in the urinal and then a guttural flush. Whomever it was washed his hands and left. I looked through the glory hole and noticed a set of legs in the stall next to the young black boy on the far left side of him. I stooped over until the muscles in my belly ached, at the set of shoes. They were dark brown, casual. I knew who it was. This chubby white boy, not so handsome. He has a short, uncut dick that has only been blown by the sluttiest of cruisers. I don't know his name, but he's been a student for years. He might be working on his doctorate. I don't know, maybe. I've never been interested in him and I'm always quick to let him know it.

I tell you, Bellamy is not like it used to be when I first started cruising back in '97. This guy I knew, Larry, a friend at the time, told me about the place. I was a freshman in junior college. I remember all the tickets I got for not having a parking decal plastered inside the windshield of my Ford Tempo. What a shit clunker that car was. The tickets I racked up was worth all the prime dick I sucked off through homemade glory holes. I took what I could living in a town with no gay bars, bookstores with dark back rooms or even a gay community center.

The first time I started I couldn't stay out of the bathrooms. Dick was a constant on my dirty mind. I would start at two in the afternoon and wouldn't leave until eight, sometimes nine o' clock at night with cum on my shirt. To cruise on campus was the high light of my day. I used to get so excited about getting some dick, I would get nauseous, but these days not so much anymore. It gets old fast. The same men cruising in and out who I wouldn't give the time of fucking day to. Troll, closeted professors who would hog the stalls, who would obnoxiously flip off the lights in pissed off frustration because I wouldn't leave, acting like they owned the fucking toilet. They still do this shit. Some things never change. They would get mad because I was better at wrangling up a cute boy here and there to suck off while they would spend half the day trying to rope the same guy. Yeah, those were the days. I wonder where those guys are now? Maybe some have moved to bigger cities with bathrooms with bigger glory holes. Maybe some are hitched with kids and they've just chalked up those days as just being some crazy college experience while others have lovers living domestically ever after with some bearded, button down bear. Who the hell knows.

Nothing has changed since I started. Just a little remodeling, the gutting out of old stalls only to be replaced by brown, fiberglass ones, some equipped with glory holes like the one I sat in. I think a janitor comes in to drill them. They're just too perfect and round.

The skinny black twink started to take an interest in the chubby boy. I figured he must be a newbie, because everyone knows Mr. Short Dick, and he ain't nothing to write home about. I watched as the black boy got on his knees. He shoved his dick under the partition that divided them. I could see Short Dick making a move. I watched the black guy beat him off. His ass was cute that rested on the heels of his black dress shoes. Neither of them made my dick hard. I heard Short Dick let out a few ohs and ahs before he came and hauled ass. After the young one finished him off, he turned to me. He pressed his mouth to the glory hole, hungering for my dick. He had a nice set of lips. I stood up and tried to work my dick through. I could only get the head of my dick through the hole due to the obstruction the tissue dispenser was causing. I felt his mouth, hot on the head of my dick. I pulled out, sat down on my toilet, and unfurled a tuft of tissue. I took a pen I brought and wrote: Lets switch stalls. I pushed the note through the glory hole. We respectfully switched stalls like two spies in some noir film. I stuck my dick through the hole without any trouble. He started to suck me. His mouth was like this wet, hot blanket enveloping my dick. I could hear spit spattering to the floor. I was so horny, it didn't take me long to come.

I rolled off some toilet paper and wiped my dick clean of spit. As usual, I didn't give him a second thought, and left the bathroom happily satisfied. I'm pretty sure I'll see him again. They always come back once they find a place they can frequent for dick.