Way back when I first moved to London, my local was a gay pub
Being really close to the flat, I would often pop in there after work to meet my housemate who would arrive on his 750cc Yamaha in full leathers, we'd have a pint and then I'd jump on the back with my arms tight around his waist, long coat flapping behind me, and we'd rip off around the corner. And then park, because we really did live that close.

Anyway, one night I was in their toilets, having a wee, as is normal. An old guy in a flat cap came in and took up a position next to me, and after a while I realised that he wasn't weeing. He gave a little grunt, and casting my eyes south-east, I realised he was having a wank. Now despite being young and inexperienced at this point, I realised that making a fuss over a guy having a wank next to me in the toilets of a gay pub probably wouldn't go down too well, so I did the polite thing, finished weeing and left him to it.

The coda to this story is that earlier this year, I was chatting to a couple of friends and mentioned that I used to drink there. "Us too!" they exclaimed. After relating the above story, they both laughed and said in unison "John!"...it turns out he was well known for his toilet-wanking antics.

Length? A lot longer than mine at the time...
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 29 May 2009, 9:33, Reply)