Small is Beautiful - Part 1

Small is Beautiful

Part 1 of 2

Story by Ben

It was my lunch break and I was feeling horny.  I decided to go to a department store nearby.  On the second floor there are some toilets where guys sometimes go for lunchtime fun.

I went in.  The place seemed to be empty.  I stood at one of the three urinals for a while, but no one came in.  My time was limited.  I had to get back to the office soon.  In the end I gave up.  I would just have to live with the aching in my loins all afternoon and find a way of satisfying it after work.

I went to wash my hands.  The cubicles were beyond the urinals, and the wash basins were opposite them.  This meant that, as you washed your hands, the cubicles were behind you, and you could see them in the mirror that covered the whole wall above the wash basins.  The doors to two of the cubicles were wide open, clearly showing that they were empty.  As I turned on the tap, I realized that the door of the third cubicle, the furthest one from the entrance, was shut.  It must have been shut ever since I arrived.  I washed my hands, and then looked up at the mirror again.  The door that had been shut was now slightly ajar.  I dried my hands, using the roller towel that was attached to the end wall, between the wash basins and the cubicles.  While I was drying my hands I was therefore standing right next to the door that was ajar.  I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the door.

I dried my hands very slowly, standing absolutely still.  The door opened just a little bit more.  I touched it gently, so that it opened some more.  That was enough.  The guy inside knew I was interested, and he opened the door fully.

He was sitting on the toilet.  He was a big guy, not at all overweight, just big.  If he wasn't a rugby player, he should have been.  He had broad shoulders and a heavy frame.  He had taken his shirt off and I could see his massive chest, big, wide, and covered in hair.  I smiled and touched my crotch.

  

That gave him the courage to smile back.  Slowly he stood, and as he did I saw his cock, which until then had been hidden because of his seated position.

I was shocked.  This big guy, this big bear of a guy, had a really small cock.  I was entranced.  

Perhaps you won't believe this, but I have always had a weakness for small cocks.  Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against big ones; I like a big cock as much as the next man.  But it is small ones that really turn me on.  It is small ones that make me go weak at the knees.  One of my best friends in my college days had a small cock.  We were never lovers as such, but, as two horny young men, it was only natural that we should occasionally sleep over in each other's room to ‘help each other out’, to deal with that massive pressure that eats away inside a young man's body unless it is released.  I used to tell him how much I loved his cock, but I always felt he didn't believe me. 

  

Sometimes I even felt he thought I was mocking him.  I wasn't.  I genuinely loved his cock.  I loved holding it, sucking it, just looking at it.

My college friend's cock was small, but this guy's was significantly smaller.  I could not take my eyes off it.  I moved my hand forward to touch it.  I held my hand out, palm upwards, so that as it reached the guy, his cock rested on my hand.  Until then, I had thought it was unaroused.  But as soon as my hand made contact with it, I could feel that it was hard.  I slowly closed my hand around it and confirmed that it was in fact fully erect.  It was as hard as a cock can be.

I released my grip and looked at it again.  It was less than three inches long.  Sometimes in the past I had encountered cocks whose girth made up for what they lacked in length, but this one was thin as well as short.  And I just loved it.  I absolutely loved it.

I closed my hand around it again.  There was so much that I wanted to do.  I wanted to feel it, to hold it, to suck it, to lick it.  With my hand gripping the guy's cock, I made a few slow strokes, starting to worry about the time and the need to get back to the office.  I looked into the guy's eyes.  He stared back, as if in a trance.  Then I realized why.  I had only made three or four strokes of his hard cock, but all of a sudden I saw his body lurch and I felt warm liquid fill my hand.  The guy looked horrified.  I smiled at him broadly and after a few spasms his facial expression seemed to relax.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

“Why sorry?  That was great.  I enjoyed it."

"I didn't want to cum so quickly.  Actually, I didn't mean to cum at all.  It's just... your hand felt so good, so warm and... I couldn't help myself."

"I'm glad you couldn't," I said.  "I love your cock."  I could tell from his expression that he didn't believe me.  "And I am glad to have shared that moment with you."

I took my hand from around his cock and looked at it.  His cock may have been tiny, but the load it had produced was prodigious.  My hand was full and almost overflowing.  I turned round to rinse it under the tap.  Then I turned back to the guy, who was wiping himself with toilet paper.

"I'd love to see you again," I said, "and somewhere more private, so that I can really enjoy your cock."  He looked puzzled.

"I really would," I said in an effort to convince him.  "I have to go.  If I don't leave immediately, I shall be late getting back to the office.  How can I contact you?"

He took a pen and a small notebook out of his pocket.  He wrote something, tore the page out and handed it to me.  On it he had written a name, Warren, and an e-mail address.  I leant forward and kissed him.  It was just a quick peck, but on the mouth, then I turned to leave.

"I'll write this afternoon."

With that, I was on my way.  I had not cum, but the experience had been so unexpected and exciting that it had left me feeling a sort of satisfaction.  The aching in my loins had gone.  I hurried back to the office, my mind filled with the memory of my hand wrapped around that beautiful cock.  I was happy.  And I was looking forward to my next meeting with the guy.