New knickers and the guilty wanker (part one)

I was growing in confidence as a cottager and it was becoming somewhat of an obsession. A safe hetero relationship cultivates sexual fantasy to prolong interest, but here I was actualising desire, I was creating and embodying the fantastic. It was the surprising diversity of feelings that kept me coming back for more. I would feel afraid, over-powered and blissfully vulnerable – or I would feel strong, controlling and radiant. These sensations where incredibly powerful and could shift many times within even a single encounter. This sex was the most real I had experienced in along time.

And so carrying a bag of recently purchased underwear I walked expectantly to the secret place. This time I decided to try the bus station toilets after discovering a new peephole inside a few days before, it was the early afternoon and the overcast sky rained steadily.

In the disabled section of the lavatory I closed and locked the door behind me. It was here that a medium hole (now plugged with paper) had been made in the slim dividing-wall directly beside the upright urinal trough. The hinge of the door (facing similarly) was unusually wide and so one could stand in the corner and be seen from head to foot from the outside if desired, or retreat from view completely. It really was a choice location for the voyeur. Its only awkward feature was a large white, horizontal bar that had been fitted at waist height for wheelchair users. The immovable rod obstinately blocked the best viewing position.

Nevertheless, I felt strangely safe here and burned with excitement as I fully undressed and began putting on the new underwear. It was amazing to be back in stockings again and on this significant occasion, for the first time, they were mine! They were neither borrowed nor stolen and I felt as if now, I was finally being allowed to guide both of my identities freely.

I proudly looked down at myself – my beautifully smooth abdomen and genitals were at last given a perfect context; their powder-puff whiteness immaculately fixed in place by the leg-hugging sheen of a pair of hold-ups… Perfection.

I was just wriggling the new panties into position when somebody entered – the spring door loudly creaking and then smacking and bouncing back into place. I turned my coat so that the fur was on the outside and slipped it back on. The floor was relatively clean and so I remained in stockinged feet only, my shoes, bag and trousers were piled together in a dry corner. Before the visitor had got to the urinal I quickly opened the peephole and stood to one side. Quietly I waited…

SURVIVAL GUIDE for Cruising, Cottaging and Toilet Trading

I've given you a couple of true stories, but before I deliver more here's a cautionary guide on how to live the dream - commit this to memory and then destroy it!

The main danger
you will face is from people who disapprove of what you are doing. During my ten years of activity there were (on occasions) reports in the media of people being badly beaten and even killed because they were suspected of cottaging. The way you avoid crazed members of the public is by being discreet. Find a good location and just be patient. Don’t go flashing your dick at the urinal unless you are the Schwarzenegger of thrill seekers. Treat cottaging as a discipline and learn to become a masterful hunter, just read the signs and discover the rules, it’s a very intuitive game.

Punters can be strange and will come in all shapes and sizes with fetishes to match, but in general they only want to be turned on and so fearing them is unnecessary; they don’t want to kill you and wear your skin – I promise! Your only real problem is finding the right ones for your needs and sifting through those who want something different. This though, is often part of the fun!

Say no as often as you want. Go at your own speed and only do things you want to. You may need to modify your vulnerable routine to incorporate a decisive: ‘no I don’t want that stuck up my ass’ but people will listen to you and respect your boundaries.
Toilet traders are an incredibly cautious bunch for the following reasons: (A) they don’t want their wife, Boss, friends or neighbors knowing what they do. (B) They don’t want to be arrested. (C) They don’t want to be assaulted by haters. This all works to your advantage because one shout or act of panic from you and it all comes crashing down for them; your collusion is essential for the game to work – it takes two to Tango.

Location identification is essential for success. Public toilets in car parks, in recreational parks or tucked down side streets are usually the most active, often they are veritable orgy spots – which can be good or bad depending on what you want. Try not so obvious places too such as bus or train stations, secluded woodland, large department stores, libraries and even hospitals. The key here is to look for areas with public access that people can visit anonymously.

Tell tale signs that X marks the spot are graffiti advertising the activity, peep holes and gloryholes, cubicles where the lock has been broken or sabotaged, places where underwear or porno literature has been left or places where there are numerous puddles of spunk and/or tissues!

Choose the right time, different times produce different results depending on where you are. But generally I found lunchtime was excellent for quickies. Toilets in large areas will be busy not only with normal users, but also people who want to give or receive a suck. You can expect all (legal) ages at this time of day.
Afternoon is a time when dedicated cottagers come out, usually older gentlemen or people with the day free. Expect more prolonged contact here, time to experiment and really play out your fantasies. Group encounters are also possible at this time.
Early evening, similar to the lunch hour, married men and office workers heading home and stopping by for relief. This time however, they often have longer to play so it can be very rewarding for you if you desire fifteen to thirty rather than just five minutes of contact.

Late evening and early hours. An exciting time that always feels more daring and dangerous. Your main catches will be middle-aged dog walkers and guys who have left the bar feeling horny and uninhibited. Be cautious around drunken guys for obvious reasons. You’ll also run into the dedicated afternoon types who just can’t stay away and in my opinion you will have the greatest chance of a group encounter if you hunt late at night.

*This guide is compiled from my experiences in England, other countries may require an even more cautious approach! Good luck and happy hunting ! Love from Armatige X

Small town tranny (part three)

I’d begun keening rhythmically in time with his clumsy movements. I was fully erect now and throbbing sharply, his face, at once lifted from my stinging nipple, thoughtfully observed my groin again; the slow irregular movement of my slim hips forward and back, drawn by the powerful hand gripping my florid prick. I whispered “suck it…” but he just looked at me suspiciously and groped one of my ass checks with his free hand. Then he stopped altogether – and begun unzipping himself. He undid his top button so his pants could open fully and slowly produced a very big, three-quarter hard penis. It was easily the biggest I’d seen, both long and thick.

------------------ Sorry ! But the rest of this has been deleted !

----------You will be able to read the entire story as an e-book, coming soon here.
------------------------------------------------------------------Love from Armatige x
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