Hallway dim. Bleach sting in nose. Fluorescent hum overhead. Sophie grabs my hand. Fingers tight. Pulls me to men’s room door. Laughter erupts from table. Charlène’s cackle cuts through. Group so close. Like nosy neighbors eavesdropping. Heart slams ribs. She whispers, ‘Don’t flake, Bébert. You won me.’ Door creaks open slow. Empty. Urinals white gleam. We dart to end stall. Lock clicks soft. Light slices under door. Yellow glow dances. Shadows shift if feet pass.
Her breath quick. Eyes wild. ‘Claim it.’ Kneels on cold tile. Knees thud muffled. Hands claw belt. Buckle jingles faint. Zipper rasps down. Yanks jeans, boxers. Cock flops out. Thick, veiny. Half-hard from fear buzz. ‘Surprising,’ she murmurs. Hot puff on tip. ‘Virgin?’ Nods. ‘Wash first. Tastes like piss day.’ Pushes me out. Sink gushes cold. Door bangs. Fat guy lumbers in. Zips open. Piss splatters loud. Shakes. Washes rough. Dries blower roars. Eyes me mirror. Fixes hair fake. Thinks I’m queer? Pulse thuds ears. Back in. She grins sly.
The Contact
Kneels again. Licks shaft slow. Salty skin. Tongue flicks head. Wet swirl. Sucks in. Lips stretch tight. Warm cave sucks. Tongue laps under. Hand cups balls. Rolls gentle. Groan slips. ‘Shh!’ Hiss sharp. Voices boom outside. Guys enter. Laugh soccer shit. Try our door. Handle rattles. Freeze. Her mouth full, cheeks bulge. Cock throbs deep throat. Hold breath. They piss. Zip. Wash. Blower whines. Door slams gone. She bobs faster. Slurps wet quiet. Gags soft. Hand twists base. Grip firm. Milk me.
The Indiscretion
Stands. Crushes lips mine. Tongue invades. Salty sweet. Hands dive ass. Full cheeks yield. Squeeze hard. Flesh molds fingers. Hair loose now. Châtain waves frame face. Blue eyes lock. Pretty nose. Lips plump. Back down. Sucks fierce. Head pistons. Balls draw tight. Hang heavy now. ‘Gonna cum,’ rasp. Eyes up. Watches. Spurt hits. Thick jets flood mouth. Gulps quiet. No drip. Swallows all. Stands. Kisses soft. Cum taste lingers. ‘Good cock. You’ll wreck girls.’ Pants up. Fixes hair ponytail. ‘Secret. Got someone. No more. Beat the bitches.’ Door cracks. Light floods. Pushes me first.
Table stares hungry. Questions fly. ‘What happened?’ Grin tight. Silence holds. Cheeks flush post-nut glow. Sophie slides in casual. Hearts hammer sync. Slip out later. Street dark. Houses quiet. Neighbors sleep deep. Our dirty thrill burns. Cross empty alley. No eyes. Secret locked. Parquet? No, but thrill same. Just next door vibe. Group ghosts haunt. What if caught? Cum memory throbs. Sophie nun now? Wild. But that stall… forever mine.