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Back when I was in graduate school, I used to cruise a lot. This was before smartphones, and websites like squirt and cruisingforsex were in their early days. So cruisey spaces on college campuses were mostly known and used by the school community. Students looking to get a load off, mostly.

Anyway, there were a few spots on campus that were relatively notorious for gay play. The administration knew, but tended not to want to deal with it, so beyond some half-hearted attempts they mostly left things alone as long as it didn't get too disruptive. This particular washroom in the basement of a humanities building had been a hot spot for decades. Some of the graffiti inked into the grout between the wall tiles probably dated back to the 80s, and you could have cloned a small army from the traces of DNA left behind over the years. It was a good spot because the door creaked loudly, and there was a short corridor that gave cruisers time to pull themselves together in the event of an interruption. Three stalls faced three urinals, although the middle stall door had been removed in a failed effort to restore order.

My usual visits there involved hanging out in the stall furthest from the door, reading any new graffiti and edging myself as I waited to see what might be on offer. From the crack in the door, I could see the activity at the closest urinals, and while lots of guys were just there to piss, it usually didn't take long before someone would linger. There would be a bit of a waiting game then -- furtive glances over the shoulder, shuffling feet, and then perhaps a waved erection, a cracked door, and then I'd be sucking cock again.

I'm not sure why I didn't recognize Andy right away. I don't know what I would have done if I had. He and I had worked together for the campus lgbt group a year or two before, but he had sort of drifted away. He was probably 10 years younger than me, and tall, with dark shaggy hair and a build slightly too gangly to be called jockish. In any case, it wasn't until I opened the stall door and we were face to face that we saw each other fully. For a second I thought he was going to run away. Our eyes widened, and I may have gasped in momentary shock -- but it became a gasp of pleasure as Andy sank to his knees and took me in his mouth.

Our encounter was urgent and intense. I mostly remember Andy's cock -- longer and thicker than mine, uncut like mine -- it was so exciting. It was so hot in my hand and felt so good in my mouth. I remember cumming in his mouth, and him swallowing, and that Andy shot a huge load -- three or four big shots at least -- all over the stall wall when he came. When I think back on that day I wish I had taken it on my tongue and all over my face.

That was the last time I saw Andy for years. He graduated, and moved out west, and years went by. I almost started thinking the whole thing had just been a fantasy. Then a few years ago I got a message from him on Facebook, asking if I remembered, and if I still jacked off to it the way he did. I still haven't seen Andy since that day, but I hope someday I will again. :)

P.S. The last time I went back to campus for an alumni event, I went back to that washroom for old times' sake. They had renovated it completely.