“Richard, but you can call meDick.”
He’s silent again for only a second before I hear him snort a laugh. It has me beaming.
By myself, in a bathroom stall, with my cock sticking through the wall.
Already the most entertaining Pride I’ve had in a while.
“You’re funny…” he whispers.
Obviously I can’t see anything anymore, but I can feel him getting closer to me. I feel his proximity on my rock-hard, aching flesh, and I’m crumbling inside with the need to be touched.
And much to my own shock, I get my wish.
Fingers brush along my length, and I slump into the wall.
Jesus, something so simple and I’m falling apart.
“More,” I plead on a bated breath.
The stranger touches me again, this time curling his fist around my erection. I bite my lip to keep in a sound that’swaytoo needy. He strokes me slowly, timidly, and I can tell in this one action that he’s definitely never done this before. Or if he has, it’s still very new.
But in my mind, I’m choosing to imagine that I’m his first. The fantasy of it gives my balls a heavy thump.
He’s touching me like he has no idea what to do, and I can’t believe it, but it’s really winding me up. My forehead drops to the wall as I hump gently into his hand, completely forgetting where I am.
I wish I was naked. I wish this stupid wall wasn’t in the way.
Then the stranger pushes his erection up to mine.
“Fffuck,” he sighs, his head fighting to get through the hole, onto my side. But there isn’t enough room for both of us. “I shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Who gives a fuck aboutshould,” I whisper, writhing against his hand, chasing the feel of his big, thick cock on mine.
But then he freezes again. I feel him stop, his fingers slipping away from my cock as he backs up.
He goes quiet, and the sounds of both of our breathing are drowning out the noise of all the people coming and going outside of this little world we’ve somehow created inside our adjacent bathroom stalls.
I’m about to playfully scold him again when he whispers, “You’re trouble.”
My heart stops.
It falls into my gut so fast, if I weren’t holding myself up on this wall, I’d be crashing to my knees.
Those words… That voice.
It’s…sofucking familiar.
Whipping my dick out of the hole, I quickly stuff it away and open the door to my stall. Just as he’s doing the same.
And I’m met with deep chocolate brown eyes, sandy blonde hair, a square jaw and perfectly pillowed lips. Features I remember all too well, even though I’ve spentyearstrying to forget them.
I blink up at him over the inches in height that separate us…I forgot how tall he is.
“Tate…” he mutters my name, the quaver in his voice distracting me from the horrified look on his face.
My mouth opens, but I have no words. I can’t speak… I’m fuckingstunned.
It’s really him.
