Mates BJ In The Pub Toilets
Picture this: a packed pub on a Saturday night, the kind of place where the floor’s sticky with spilled pints and the air’s thick with laughter and shoutin’. Me and my best mate, we’re a few drinks in, feelin’ good and havin’ a laugh.
We’d been mates since we were nippers, growin’ up on the same estate, gettin’ into all sorts of trouble together. He’s a good-lookin’ bloke, with these bright blue eyes and a cheeky grin that could get him out of any scrape. We always had a bit of a banter goin’ on, but tonight, somethin’ felt different.
“Oi, mate,” he said, clinkin’ his pint glass against mine. “You look like you’re up for a bit of mischief tonight.”
I grinned, takin’ a swig of my beer. “Always up for a bit of mischief, ain’t I? Especially with you.”
He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Yeah, we’ve had some good times, haven’t we?”
“The best,” I agreed, feelin’ a warmth spread through me that had nothin’ to do with the booze.
As the night went on, the pub got louder and more crowded. We found ourselves pressed closer together, our knees touchin’ under the table. Every time he leaned in to talk to me, I could feel his breath on my ear, sendin’ a jolt of electricity through me. I could feel his knee brush against mine, casual but deliberate. My heart skipped a beat, and I realised I wasn’t just feelin’ the effects of the booze.
“I need to take a piss,” he said suddenly, standin’ up. “Back in a sec.”
I watched him walk away, his jeans huggin’ his arse perfectly. I couldn’t help but feel a stirrin’ in my own pants. I downed the rest of my pint and decided to follow him.
The toilets were at the back of the pub, down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. I pushed open the door and saw him standin’ at the urinal, his back to me. I walked up behind him, close enough to feel the heat comin’ off his body.
“What’re you doin’, mate?” he asked, lookin’ over his shoulder with a smirk.
“Just checkin’ to make sure you’re alright,” I said, my voice low and husky.
He turned to face me, his eyes glintin’ with mischief. “I’m always alright, mate. But I think you might be lookin’ for somethin’ else.”
Before I could say anythin’, he grabbed me by the collar and pulled me into one of the stalls, slammin’ the door shut behind us. The stall was tiny, barely enough room for the two of us, but that just made it all the more excitin’.
He pushed me against the wall, his body pressin’ against mine. I could feel his hard-on through his jeans, and it sent a surge of desire through me. He leaned in and kissed me, rough and hungry, his tongue forcin’ its way into my mouth. I kissed him back, just as fierce, our teeth clashin’ and our breaths comin’ in ragged gasps.
My hands found their way to his belt, and I started to undo it, my fingers fumblin’ in my haste. He did the same to me, and soon enough, our jeans were around our ankles, and we were standin’ there in our boxers, our cocks strainin’ against the fabric.
His fingers wrapped around me, firm and possessive, making my breath hitch. He started to stroke me, slow and steady, his thumb rubbin’ over the head of my cock. I reached out and did the same to him, feelin’ his thick, hard length in my hand.
“Fuck, mate,” he gasped, his hips thrustin’ forward. “That feels good.”
“Yeah?” I said, my voice ragged. “How about this?”
I pulled down his boxers, exposin’ his cock. It was thick and hard, the head already glistenin’ with pre-cum. I spat on my hand and started to stroke him again, my grip tight and my movements fast. He let out a low growl, his body tense with pleasure.
He did the same to me, and soon enough, we were standin’ there, jerkin’ each other off, our breaths comin’ in ragged gasps and our bodies slick with sweat. The stall was filled with the sound of our grunts and the wet, slappin’ sound of our hands on each other’s cocks.
I could feel the pleasure buildin’ inside me, my balls tightenin’ and my cock throbbin’. I knew I was close, but I didn’t want it to end just yet. I pushed him away, and he looked at me with a confused expression.
“What’s wrong, mate?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.
“Nothin’,” I said, a wicked grin spreadin’ across my face. “I just want to taste you.”
Before he could say anythin’, I dropped to my knees and took his cock in my mouth. He let out a low groan, his hands goin’ to my head and his fingers tanglin’ in my hair. I started to suck him, takin’ him deep into my throat and usin’ my tongue to tease the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock.
He started to thrust his hips, fuckin’ my mouth with wild abandon. I could feel his cock throbbin’ in my mouth, and I knew he was close. I reached up and started to stroke myself, my hand movin’ in time with his thrusts.
“Fuck, mate,” he gasped. “I’m gonna come.”
I pulled back, his cock slippin’ out of my mouth with a wet pop. I stood up, and he grabbed me, pullin’ me into a rough kiss. I could taste myself on his lips, and it sent a fresh wave of desire through me.
We started to jerk each other off again, our movements fast and frantic. I could feel the pleasure buildin’ inside me, my body tense and my breaths comin’ in short, sharp gasps. Every sound faded—the muffled laughter from the pub, the clinks of pint glasses—it was just us, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths, the whole world stripped down to the raw need between us.
“Fuck, I’m close,” I gasped, my body tremblin’ with the effort of holdin’ back.
“Me too, mate,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “Come with me.”
We stood there, our bodies pressed together, our hands movin’ in sync as we brought each other to the edge. I could feel the pleasure buildin’, my balls tightenin’ and my cock throbbin’. And then, with a final thrust of our hips, we came, our cocks eruptin’ in our hands and our bodies shakin’ with the force of our orgasms.
We stood there for a moment, our breaths comin’ in ragged gasps and our bodies slick with sweat. And then, slowly, we started to clean ourselves up, usin’ the toilet paper to wipe away the evidence of our encounter.
As we zipped up and made our way out, we shared a look—one that said, ‘We’re still mates, but somethin’ just changed.’ He gave me a cheeky grin, and it settled any doubts in my mind. We were still us, but with a secret that was ours alone.
Sittin’ back at the bar, pint in hand, I knew we’d never talk about it again, but I couldn’t shake the feelin’ that it was more than just a quick blow in a pub loo. It was a shift—somethin’ I’d carry with me long after the buzz of the beer faded.
It wasn’t just about the rush—it was him, my best mate. The one bloke who always had my back. Tonight, it felt like we crossed a line we could never step back from, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
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