Violation of Privacy

by bistander

A bar of light cutting across the dark hallway suggested someone might already be in the bathroom, but I didn’t wait by my bedroom door. Did I hope to see something or someone? No, I told myself, I would only get close enough to know for sure. If the door was ajar, it was unlikely anyone would be in there, not in the middle of the night. They certainly wouldn’t be doing something they didn’t want me to see.

I got close enough to hear a splashing sound, but was it because of something they didn’t want me to see? It would be rude, a violation of privacy, and something I knew I wasn’t supposed to do, but I kept going toward the light, and that noise.

The sound of water hitting water seemed loud enough to be a garden hose aimed at the toilet. I got scared at the last second and walked past, trying not to look, but my breath caught and my pace faltered. Move, keep going, don’t look, I told myself. It had only been in my peripheral vision, so my eyes must have played a trick on me. I eased back and turned my head. The flap of his boxers was stretched open, straining to hold up the man’s dick. It curved downward, pouring a thick, powerful stream of golden fluid into the toilet. At that moment, there was still time to move away; he hadn’t seen me. I could have prevented what was going to happen to me. All I had to do was keep walking, but I couldn’t.

It was fascinating and frightening. My guts twisted, my face got hot, a strange feeling made me dizzy, and thoughts filled my mind. They were bad, perverse imaginations, I knew that. My mother had told me, warned me, promised, and threaten Hellfire and brimstone back when I was in high school. Billy and I had just been comparing our boners, nothing more. That is unless she could have read my mind. Not that I’d ever have done any of what I thought; that was taboo.

I need to move on, and avoid being caught, but I was frozen, breathing hard with my eyes locked on the dick. He didn’t give it a couple of quick shakes. The man’s hand moved down, tugged once, twice, and a third time before his thumb pressed into the purple knob and rubbed out to the dripping tip. I still hadn’t been seen, so it wasn’t too late to run away, but I kept on watching.