I met up with a friend Saturday evening at the Wetherspoons just by Holborn tube station. I was the first one to arrive; the place was packed and I couldn’t find a seat. I thought it might be a good idea to go for a piss before grabbing a pint and waiting for her.
The toilets are located in the back, by the dining tables. A guy in his sixties standing by himself – tight blue jeans, glasses and white hair – eyed me up and down as I swung through the door. The toilet’s floor was flooded so I chose the urinal with the driest spot. A second later, in walks the guy and finds a urinal near me, his eyes straight to my side. He stood slightly away from the urinal so I could check his cock if I wanted to. Piss flowed from my cock but I grew hard. Guys were coming and going; the place emptied out, leaving just the two of us.
Because of nerves, I didn’t look at him. I thought of going into one of the cabins and giving him a blowjob before my friend arrived. But, at the same time, there was something stale about him – a whiff of old cigarettes. I walked out quickly, bought a pint and sat by the entrance. He followed me and circled for a while, but I kept avoiding his eyes, pretended to be busy with the menu.
So much traffic in and out of that Wetherspoons… I can see how ideal it is.