The year was nineteen-seventy-one. I was at the local college studying for a diploma in advanced engineering. One lunchtime, a girl of about my age sat at my table. Quite by chance, we both had ordered the same meal.
She was no beauty. She had brown mousy hair and wore glasses. She averted her gaze. She was clearly not going to talk. Accidentally on purpose, I knocked over my glass of orange juice and most of it landed on her.
Needless to say, she was not happy. I gushed out my apologies and offered to pay the cleaning bill for her skirt. We were talking, well, I think we were. I saw her again on the same day as we left college. Surprisingly, she was quite civil towards me and mumbled something like her skirt had dried out quite well. I liked the word 'skirt.'
She began to sit with me most lunchtimes and we were soon chatting in a normal sort of way. I was eighteen and she was seventeen. It only took her two weeks to introduce herself. Her name was Caroline. I was a brash bold sort of person and in those days. The usual thing to do was ask a girl if she would like to go to the cinema.
The classic film Gone With The Wind was on at the Odean. To my surprise, she readily accepted my invitation. We sat in the back row, munching popcorn and sipping a fizzy drink each. I do not remember very much about the film, my mind was on other things. I walked her home after the film had ended and she gave me a light peck on my left cheek. Things were really looking up.
One Friday in early January, Caroline never came to college. I really did miss seeing her at lunchtime. On my way home through Cherry Tree Park, I needed the public facilities. It was a dimly lit, rather smelly old place. There was no one around, so I slipped inside and occupied the first cubicle. I had never been into such a place.
As my eyes became accustomed to the light, I started to read the scribble on the walls. Also, there were several rather explicit drawings. I was fascinated by what I saw and for some unexplained reason, I felt pleasantly aroused. I became aware of someone in the next cubicle. Suddenly a screwed up piece of toilet paper came over the dividing wall and landed on my cock. That small event made me stiffen even more.
Scrawled in pencil on the piece of paper was written, "I want to look at you." I was fully aware that the many holes of various sizes in the wall had been blocked up, mainly by newspaper. A minute or so later, another message arrived. It read, "Don't worry, it's very safe here." I was still sitting down.
Foolishly, I sent a reply. "I am a schoolboy of just sixteen," I wrote. This clearly pleased the unknown person. I had no idea about certain things in public toilets. The notes kept coming over and each was rather explicit. I have to be honest and admit that I rather liked being told what to do. I was in need and maybe an opportunity had presented itself.
I obeyed most fully my instructions. My college clothes ended up in a heap beside the toilet. At the same time, the heavens opened and the sound of the heavy rain on the old tin roof was almost deafening. One by one I unblocked the holes thus allowing the eyes to see parts of me but not the parts he really wanted to see. I was now in control and I was going to make him wait.
My cock had never been so stiff. I enjoyed being naked in that cubicle knowing that I was being looked at. I unblocked several more holes allowing the stranger to see my bare arse. He pushed a finger through a hole. What was he hoping to do? My heartbeat quickened and my resistance level dropped to almost zero. With trembling fingers, I unblocked the biggest hole and shoved my cock through it.