Probably the time I got cottaged while trying to take a crap in the toilets under the local library.
Long story short, a guy stuck his head under the cubicle. I was shocked for a couple of secs, asked him wtf he thought he was doing, he said “Oh sorry, I thought you were someone else” then retracted his head back from whence it came.
As a creature of habit, I used the left-hand stalls for many years with no incident. One day, they were all taken, so I went to the middle stall on the right. After he retracted his head, I noticed a different motion in my peripheral, and that’s when I spotted the peep hole drilled between the stalls. I didn’t look through it but could guess from the furious motion he was having some sort of danger-wank.
At that point, my poo had gone back up inside out of fright, I left the cubicle. But unlike most people I have to wash my hands after being in the loo, poop or not, and I don’t think he was prepared for that; he came out of the cubicle, glided into the one opposite almost as if on wheels, and locked the door; presumably waiting for his next victim.
I’m 99% sure he was trying to engage in something called ‘cottaging’, where gay men meet other gay men in toilets. Pretty fucking risky business in such a public toilet during the day though, if you ask me!
Probably the time I got cottaged while trying to take a crap in the toilets under the local library.
Long story short, a guy stuck his head under the cubicle. I was shocked for a couple of secs, asked him wtf he thought he was doing, he said “Oh sorry, I thought you were someone else” then retracted his head back from whence it came.
The real question is who the hell did he think you were
Maybe I should add some detail…
As a creature of habit, I used the left-hand stalls for many years with no incident. One day, they were all taken, so I went to the middle stall on the right. After he retracted his head, I noticed a different motion in my peripheral, and that’s when I spotted the peep hole drilled between the stalls. I didn’t look through it but could guess from the furious motion he was having some sort of danger-wank.
At that point, my poo had gone back up inside out of fright, I left the cubicle. But unlike most people I have to wash my hands after being in the loo, poop or not, and I don’t think he was prepared for that; he came out of the cubicle, glided into the one opposite almost as if on wheels, and locked the door; presumably waiting for his next victim.
I’m 99% sure he was trying to engage in something called ‘cottaging’, where gay men meet other gay men in toilets. Pretty fucking risky business in such a public toilet during the day though, if you ask me!
You should talk to the person that knows a lot about sexual kinks.