The Blue Room

royal-festival-hall-drink-02

A week ago, my boyfriend and I travelled to the South Bank to meet some friends for dinner.

Outside Embankment station, my boyfriend said he needed to buy a toothbrush and would go look for it on Charing Cross. I told him I’d meet him at the restaurant and immediately thought of the Royal Festival Hall’s toilets, and of quickly dropping by to check them out.

First stop was the 1st floor toilet – the one right at the back, near the stage for free concerts. Usually there’s one or two guys hanging around those urinals (sometimes they even give the impression of having been standing there for hours!) There was just one guy washing his hands, a middle-aged Indian man, on his way out.

Tried the ground floor toilet next. An older man with glasses and white hair, carrying a plastic bag (real air of professor about him), followed me down the stairs. But when he saw me try to open the door and find it locked, he spun around and went back up. I took the side exit door and left the building.

I’d read online about the 4th floor blue toilet, so decided it was worth a quick visit to it before I joined my friends and boyfriend. I walked around the Festival Hall, went back in and took the elevator up to the 4th floor. The area was deserted. I went up a short flight of stairs and found the toilets to my left, tucked in a corner.

There was just one guy standing by the urinals, clearly cruising. He was short, bald, with a salt-and-pepper beard, a protruding belly and muscular tits. He reminded me of one of those muscular dwarves from the Lord of the Rings films.

After a few moments of tugging, we turned to each other and showed our cocks. His was about the same size as mine, 5.5 inches, but thicker, and with a big bush. He gestured for me to join him by his other side, away from the opening doors.  I did so.

Very soon we had our hands on each other’s cocks. He slid his hand under my balls, looking for my asshole. I moved closer to give him easier access. Then he slid his hand to my back and cupped my ass. I worked his shaft with my hand then leaned down and took him into my mouth. With his other hand he held my head and facefucked me. When I got up again, he opened his shirt and unbuckled his trousers. Then he started working on my belt.

I ran my hand through his thick chest hair. It was moist and smelt of cologne. I found one of his hard nipples and leaned down to chew it, but he whispered: ” no chewing, no chewing.” When I started licking and sucking it instead, he groaned “good boy”.

Suddenly the door opened and we fumbled back towards the urinals, pulling our trousers up. It was the professor type with his plastic bag. He went into the bathroom’s sole cubicle and shut the door. We went back to playing with each other. I sucked his cock a little more, and when I came up for air he slid his hand up my stomach to my chest, then back to my ass.

I felt too coscious about the noise we were making, with the other guy inside the cubicle. There were also my friends and boyfriend waiting for me. So I zipped up, patted his ass as a goodbye, and headed for the restaurant.

They were all sitting together, drinks already in front of them. “Where have you been?” my boyfriend asked with a humorous smile. He had guessed what I’d been up to.  I sat down and shared a private smile with him. And I hoped my friends wouldn’t smell cock on me as I leaned in for a cheek kiss.

Advertisements

About doriansmith5

https://doriansmith5.wordpress.com
This entry was posted in Cruising and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Blue Room

  1. Nomad1001 says:

    so glad you’re still around messaged you a few weeks ago on squirt. Definitely, inspiring me to cruise a little more xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s