The Amsterdam restroom.
Hi, my name is Benjamin, Ben for short, I'm 23 and I'm from Denmark. My psychiatrist told me I should write about my feelings, but it's not easy. I've given it a lot of thought and I think I should start in that restroom in Amsterdam. I guess it's because it was from there that my life really took off.
Now, before I continue, I need to explain some things. First, from the age of 7 or 8, I knew I was gay. It's not a big deal, Denmark is pretty liberal when it comes down to that. It didn't bother me, but of course I wasn't shouting it off the rooftops either. I don't remember telling my birthparents about it, but they may have suspected.
Crap, now I have to explain the birthparents thing. Well, my birthmother gave birth to me and my birthfather had fathered me. Everything was fine until they both died in a horrible car crash a few weeks after my 9th birthday.
I don't remember a lot about them, just 'shards', as I like to call them. Little pieces of memory that pop up every now and then, like my father saying: "Just be yourself, son, you'll be ok". It was just before classes started, my first day at primary school.
Anyway, my birthparents had passed away and with no known close relatives I was deemed fit for adoption. I vaguely remember a few meetings with what you'd call prospectives, but nothing panned out. And then came Benete and Riita. The first thing I remember is that they told me they wanted to be my mothers. It must have been a subconscious thing, but there was an immediate 'click'.
Right off the bat, I told them that I didn't like women and that I was gay. They thought that was so cute. Saying that I also didn't like to wear girly clothes seemed to only add to their shared delight in me. Benete and Riita passed away in a freak accident at a railway crossing in Austria a few weeks ago, which is why I was advised to see a psychiatrist in the first place.
My 'crazy girls' (I gave them that pet name after I turned 18) ended up adopting me and I consider them my parents, even though they didn't do much parenting. Life with Benete and Riita was fun, certainly the first few years.
Oh, you should know that back in those days I looked like an absolute angel. I had light blond curly hair, blue eyes that could pierce your soul and quite a nice skin complexion. In fact, whenever we went to southern Europe during our frequent holidays, I was an instant hit with both women, men, girls and boys.
Ah, yes, the frequent vacations, those came about because Benete could always work from her laptop and Riita was an English teacher at high school, so mine and her school holidays usually coincided. We normally went on holidays at least 5 times a year. In the winter, I'd learn to ski in Norway or Switzerland and in the summer, I learned water- and jet-skiing in Italy and Spain.
Hold on to your britches, I can hear you thinking: "The little brat got spoiled", and yes, I was, up to a point. There were also the cultural, architectural and hiking trips I had to take, and I went along with them, for their sake. The hiking trips in particular were really boring, hotels or B&B's in the middle of nowhere, no internet, no nothing, except hiking trails.
In a sense I was lucky, getting adopted by a pair of lesbians. Nobody ever raised an eyebrow when we stayed in a two or three bed room. Going out anywhere was never a problem, it was just me and 'two girlfriends'. I don't think I would ever have had the same experiences I did if I had been adopted by two guys.
Jeez, we have digressed, and the story isn't complete until after the Amsterdam restroom experience. And stop asking me about the size of my dick. Sure, some guys in the school bathrooms laughed at me, but then I pointed to a guy that had even less and joined in. It's certainly not fair to divert attention from your own shortcomings by pointing out someone else's, but hey, that was life in school for most of us.
I was never a strapping young lad; my growth spurt didn't start until I was nearly sixteen and it got kind of ugly. It's gotten better now, but just don't go expecting a blond Adonis if we do ever meet.
Anyway, at thirteen I was still quite small for my age, but I had a mind going on twenty three, I guess. There were no restrictions imposed on me as far as Internet access was concerned and I'd taken full advantage of that. I think I had found probably every porn site in the world that held something that was of interest to me. There were also the more mundane sites, with shirtless or nude pictures of my favorite actors. At the time, I had no idea that most of those were more than likely photoshopped.
In bed, at night, I had fantasized about having sex with men and boys I had seen in the neighborhood, on television or at school. I had jacked off furiously while I stuck spit covered fingers up my bum. Whenever possible I'd also tried out the strap-on dildo I had found secreted away in a chest of drawers in Riita and Benete's bedroom. Putting it in my mouth first, to cover it with as much spit as I could, I would then put it into me. After practicing as often as I could, I was able to get it half way in.
Riita and Benete must have found out I had been using it because one day it had disappeared from its normal hiding place. They never brought it up with me and I never found out whether they had gotten rid of it or had just found a better place of concealment.
Then came the day that Riita and Benete told me that we were going on holiday again. We were going to Amsterdam for a week and I can't say I was looking forward to it. After all, for a 13-year-old boy, culture sniffing is not very high on his list of priorities. As we were going to share a bedroom too, I also knew I would be restricted to an occasional jerk off in the bathroom.
We arrived at our hotel early on a Saturday afternoon and over the first few days walked around the town and visited several museums. Early Tuesday evening we were walking along one of the narrow streets when we happened upon a steak restaurant and Riita and Benete decided it was time for dinner. As we entered the restaurant, it was pretty much deserted.
The place was narrow and long, with another entrance at the opposite side from where we had entered. That one opened up to a big square and I could see trams riding there. Riita and Benete thought it was delightful and a waiter quickly seated us at a table not far from the entrance. There was a couch against the wall, the table in front, with balustrades left and right to separate it from other tables.
We were enjoying our drinks and appetizers, when a guy who had entered from the opposite entrance, sat down at the table next to ours. He had just nodded, acknowledging our presence, but didn't say anything. I strained to hear when he was ordering from the menu and decided he was probably Dutch as I couldn't understand a word of what he said.
I looked over a good number of times and noticed he was quite slim. He was well dressed and when our eyes met the couple of times he glanced back at me, he gave me a friendly smile. I was quite embarrassed when I noticed I was getting hard and I tried to make it go away by making small talk to Riita and Benete.
We had just finished our main course and were waiting for our deserts when Riita got the bright idea of asking the man if he could maybe take our picture. The man seemed happy to assent and Riita handed him her camera, giving him a crash course in its operations. I joined Riita and Benete on the couch seat and the man took our picture. As he did I noticed that he had a noticeable bulge in his pants. I assumed Riita and Benete never looked at men's crotches, so I think they didn't notice.
After taking two pictures of us, the man handed the camera back to Riita. He then proceeded to take out his cell phone and asked if he could also take our picture for himself. My mothers readily agreed and another photograph was taken. The man thanked us and returned to his table as I returned to my chair. The man and I looked at each other and both of us smiled.
After taking another sip from his red wine I saw the man getting up and making his way to the restroom. I wasn't thinking properly as, with my heart beating in my throat, I excused myself to also visit the restroom. The walk over to the restroom door took maybe 30 seconds, but in my mind, hours were passing. A myriad of scenarios had flashed by when I finally pushed open the restroom door.
He was standing at the urinal farthest removed from the door. As I made my way over to the one next to him I could only think of one thing: "Don't chicken out now!" My little cock was rock hard and I didn't really need to pee, but I took my position and tried to open the zipper of my pants.
As I was nervously messing about with my zipper, I took the chance to look over at the man's crotch and saw he was rock hard too. Looking up into his face I saw he was looking straight back at me, smiling.
"Do you like what you see, little man?", he asked.
I could only nod, my voice having decided to go on strike. The man put his cock back in his trousers and walked over to a stall, leaving the door wide open, and I quickly followed him in.
Once we were both inside he reached over me, closed the door and locked it. He then opened his trousers and pulled them and his underwear down, dropping them around his ankles, before sitting down on the closed toilet seat. He spread his legs wide, took hold of my shoulders and pulled me down onto my knees.
There was no going back. I had wanted this for so long and I felt exhilarated. I knew I could do this, his cock wasn't as long or thick as the dildo and I had easily managed that. So, I opened my mouth wide and closed my lips around his offering. The sensation I got from this first time of having a real cock in my mouth was electrifying. The dildo had been a hard piece of plastic and this definitely was not.
I started to bob up and down, taking in as much of him as I could every time. The man had one hand squeezing my shoulder as his other hand was tousling through my blond curly hair. All too soon the man whispered to me: "I'm going to cum."
I was surprised when I felt the first spurt of his semen hit the back of my throat and involuntarily I swallowed. The few other shots that followed I kept in my mouth and when he was finished I pulled off of him. Quickly I grabbed some toilet paper and spat out on it what I still held, then discarding it on the floor.
As I looked back at the man I saw him smiling. He then reached forward, taking me under my armpits and raised me up. As he did so, I heard him whisper, "Your turn, young man."
He quickly unfastened my shorts and pulled them and my briefs down in a fluid motion. I only saw my stiff little pecker for a second before it was completely engulfed by the man's mouth. If it hadn't been for the man holding onto my pelvis, I think the new sensation would have made me crumple down.
What I remember most from that first time is how warm and, by association, safe it felt. The man didn't move his head as much as I had done, but his tongue gave me thrills that seemed to course through my whole body. I had grabbed hold of the man's shoulders to steady myself and I could feel one of his hands first fondling my little balls, then reaching back through my legs. As one of his fingers touched my sphincter, I exploded.
I don't know if I came much, there was no way to know. I think I saw the man swallow twice, but that could also have been my imagination. I was still a bit unsteady on my feet as the man bent back a little, then pulled up my briefs and shorts. With trembling hands, I fastened the button of my shorts and closed up the zipper.
The man and I looked at each other. "Thank you," he whispered, "Now you had better get back out there before one of those ladies comes looking for you." I just nodded, turned around, unlocked the stall and wobbled to the restroom door.
Approaching our table, I noticed that the ice cream I had ordered for desert was waiting for me. Riita inquired about what had taken me so long. Of course, I lied, saying I had a stomach cramp and had to go into a stall. I sat down and started to devour my ice cream. Its flavor overpowered the lingering taste of man cum that had still been in my mouth.
When I finished my desert, I noticed the man had returned to his seat and was ordering coffee. Benete in the meantime had paid for our meal and we got up to leave, saying goodbye to the man and thanking him again for taking the pictures.
We made our way to the exit into the narrow street, Benete and Riita in the lead, me lingering behind a bit. When I was almost through the door I looked back at the man. He was looking at me and I could see him smile, giving me a quick wink. I smiled and winked back at him before moving on into the street, closing the restaurant door behind me.
From that moment onwards, no restroom was safe from my exploits. Most times my efforts were completely in vain, I even got slapped on a few occasions. Every now and then though, I would find a man or another boy who would be a willing participant. Over time, of course, the excitement wore off, but that first time will be forever etched in my mind.
About two years ago, I went back to Amsterdam and in a bout of nostalgia tried to find the restaurant again. I did find the spot but the place I remembered so fondly was gone. I wandered around that particular neighborhood for a good number of days and evenings. It was a faint attempt at maybe running into the man once more. I would have gone with him again and this time, for certain, I would have swallowed everything.