I stood against the last urinal as my piss stream started up. The restroom was quiet, a hallway of white tiled walls and sparkling linoleum flooring as refuge from the bustle outside.
I'd needed to go for hours, having left a heated meeting. When my newer, younger -- and far cuter -- colleague Gabriel stood in opposition against my boss I chose to support him first.
I scratched my head. Sure, Gabriel's got that dark beard, deep voice and cocksure attitude but Erik's been my boss for years, that kind of betrayal cuts deep. Even if Erik never had my back. I should feel bad. Probably.
I was half way done with the door clashed open and I heard footsteps briskly tapping toward me. For a moment I cringed assuming I'd see Erik hounding me down but instead I saw Gabriel's firm frame turn the corner. I saw his eyes widened with recognition.
Then he sidled up right beside me, ignoring the five other urinals to block me against the wall.
He grunted and popped the button on his jeans while I tried to keep my eyes forward, the sound of my piss stream the only distraction. After a moment his stream joined mine in a little duet, sloshy wet noises and the gurgle of the urinal drains accepting our liquid refuse.
He spat and I glanced to the side, I want to say it was an automatic reaction but at least half the motion was voluntary. What can I say? I'm a pervert.
He was a little shorter than me, I noticed. He stood with the hem of his shirt clasped in his fist a couple inches above his navel and his jeans splayed open. Schlong out in the open air, confident. His clothing masked his frame well trim abdomen covered in a legion of straight black hairs all laying flat in a swirling pattern. The hair climbed up and out of his shirt, decorating his collar and bulky forearms.
I glanced a little further down. The root of his manhood already an easy two tones darker than his average skin tone, it appeared like a dark fat snake hanging from his fly. It was most the length of a lager can, soft with crumpled wrinkles all the way down the shaft. The skin extended across the ridge of his glans a little, leaving enough of the lighter pink skin visible to titillate my senses. I felt a tug in my groin.
"Hah! Is that why you were on my side?" he chuckled. His deep Scottish voice still mismatched his Brazilian features to me. He clapped me on the back. "What a lad!"
I darted my eyes right back to my own moderate length, embarrassed having him catch me. The slap around my shoulders had jostled me enough that I'd sprayed a wonky figure eight in the urinal.
My cheeks began to burn. He'd noticed. Jesus, I had gotten hard enough to piss against the top of the porcelein and he saw it.
"I'm sorry man, wandering eyes," I muttered, avoiding his gaze. My stream died up and I began to zip up, eager to leave. "Won't happen again."
I made to move but he grabbed my wrist. "Wait wait wait," he said still pissing like a racehorse as he held me still. "Don't move, stay."
I froze beside him for a couple more seconds as he fed the urinal the last of his piss. Once done he moved into a stall, herding me in and closing the door behind himself. I sat on the closed toilet seat lid, hands on my knees in preparation to stabilize myself when I noticed it. He hadn't bothered to tuck his rod away.
"You like it?" he said. He pinched the shaft to lift his dong before releasing his grip. It fell back on to his balls with a quiet plap.
"Yep, I like it." I said. I looked at it, then up at him.
"Listen, I can't get shit done here with Erik blocking me every time. You backed me up earlier... that might be the first time I've seen any progress here man," he started, low tone rumbling in the enclosed stall. "I'm not into men but it's no big thing to me if you wanna touch him a little, especially if you keep helping me out."
I paused for a moment even though I knew what he was saying, what I'd end up doing. My cock yoyoed back into semi-hardness at the mental image of it all, doing it here. My nose flared at the scent of it hanging a mere foot away from my face, I wanted more.
"I can tell you're huffing it, can I take that as a yes?" he said, smirking. I nodded. I'd never have imagined little Gabriel would've packed this kind of heat, I wanted to get closer to it. He nodded back and put his hands on his hips, jutting his ample manhood out to swing it in my face. "Well, have at it then, lunch break doesn't last all day."
I reached out and traced my fingers around the shaft, toward the base. It felt far fatter than it looked, the soft wrinkled skin I'd noticed glided back and forth, like the entire shaft was an extension of his foreskin. I could compress it a little but the core of it resisted, as if it were so heavy it refused to budge.
I moved my hand lower and grasped his foreskin a smidge behind the head and pulled ever so gently, freeing the head from its seal. He grunted, a little tiny bead of precum smaller than a speck of drizzle appeared at the lips on the end of his glans. I rubbed it into the tip with my thumb, entranced by this fresh kind of erotic experience.
The more I played with it the more heady scent it exuded, a kind of sweet sweaty musk that stuck in my nose more and more. The sensation excited me, reminded me of other lurid meetings I'd made in toilets before.
I felt his hand pushing hard on my shoulder before I noticed I'd started leaning forward. He wagged his finger at me and tutted dramatically like I was his misbehaving pet. "Can't do that. We can keep this between us, but no mouth stuff. Capiche?"
"I just wanted to sniff it!" I protested. I'm sure I looked desperate and shameless, still pawing at his length. He looked at me with an eyebrow raised, then rolled his eyes.
"Right. Then do that." He grumbled, and released his grip. " I better not feel anything wet, you hear me?"
Someone with a little more self respect would've waited, instead I dove headfirst into his bush. The damp patch of tight curls tickled my nose with every deep huffed breath, I drank in his scent. It didn't hurt that I could feel his warm dick skin against my lips either. The chubby tube pulsed arrhythmically in my loose grip.
"Is it that good?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. His hand came down to rest on the top of my head. I nodded, moaning a muffled incoherent affirmation into his crotch. Brick hard erect dick tented my chinos below, the dainty fabric feeling like a fucking poor choice now. He'd firmed up too, his dick was more hard than it was soft at this point; the veins across the surface swelled.
Getting to pig out with these restrictions was driving me a little crazy. I took to cradling his cock in my palm. I ran my nose from base to tip, pausing to huff at the sticky head. It was like a cigar, albeit one long enough I had to pause half way to maintain the breath. After one completed trip base-to-head I repeated myself, then again. I rubbed my cheek along the sweaty flesh.
Had Gabriel always smelled this good? His dick pulsed hard against my skin.
"You're making me hard!" he complained in a deep rumble, so low as whisper. I taunted him, kept rubbing my cheek along the last quarter to tug the foreskin just a little. Leaving little kisses on the bare skin around his pubes but none on the cock itself. If we both left with blue balls I'd be happy.
He growled and gripped my hair, holding me at distance enough that I could appraise the whole thing again.
A pleading noise rose from my throat and I played a useless struggle against his unchanging clasp. He frowned and grabbed his cock around the midsection, jerking the length with a lazy grip.
"You're such a slut, fuck!" he hissed, half-angry half-excited. He picked up the stroking on his dick, torqueing his hips with my head as a counterbalance. He did a good job keeping me at the perfect distance to stare his engorged helmet but always out of range to touch it.
"Is this what you want, huh?" he jibed. He thrusts became errant, grazing against my cheek to draw a wet line across my facial hair. "You like this, dicksucker?"
Not one to rise above an accusation, I looked up into his eyes and opened my mouth. My tongue lay out like a red carpet, just waiting for him to miss a thrust and find his way in. His jerking sped up. God if I could just kiss it, I could be happy with just a kiss.
"You little shit..." he groaned, tugging my hair tight enough to the point I could feel a dull pain in my skull. "You're asking for it!"
I hadn't even realized I was whining until he corked my mouth with the tip, pushing in til the plump ridge married my lips. One involuntary lap against the underside strummed the taut frenulum. His dick pulsed hard, stretching my orifice a little more.
"Stop." He said with a firm tone, his voice deadly serious. His eyes locked on mine. "Do. Not. Move."
I froze up completely. It felt like all I could feel was him, the dingy bathroom fell away. His eyes on mine; his thickness prising apart my lips; his salty slick drizzle on my tongue, still pressed unmoving to the belly of his cock head.
I felt his fist touch my lips and realized he was still stroking. He kept a stoic expression but I could see a bulging vein up on his forehead and a subtle ruddy hue to his cheeks.
"You've been so fucking bad," he huffed with a strained voice.
His fist bumped against my lips again, particularly hard. Enough that I jerked back from surprise. Or I would've, but I found I couldn't -- his grip in my hair had become an iron palm around the back of my head, refusing me any movement on his rod.
"Don't you dare!" he hissed, "Just keep your fucking lips... Fuck!"
His tip, leaking generously, swelled to a plum on my tongue and unloaded the full load in five almighty gushes. Not shooting ropes, it gushed. Successive hot, salty waves of slime across my tongue.
He groaned and his entire body relaxed in tandem, as if the strings on every muscle loosened a little. His gripping fist became a supporting palm as his heavy breathing began to slow.
I swallowed after the first shot, then again after the third, then let the rest wash into my mouth. Being honest it was to covert more of the taste, but using his warm sperm as cushion between glans and my tongue felt right too.
I was on cloud nine, my boner leaking a storm against my thigh yet completely forgotten. I felt goony, like I'd somehow caught the edge off his orgasm but not the satisfaction of it.
"Earth to cocksucker? Hello?" A quick slap to my cheek brought me back down to earth, my eyes focusing back on his bemused expression. "You back?"
I nodded and he slapped again, not hard enough to make me flinch but a little harder than he needed to. A little darkness crept in behind his eyes. "This stays between us, understand?" he said.
I nodded, maintaining eye contact, and he smiled. The darkness fled and his warmth returned.
"Now, don't make a mess, keep it in your mouth," he teased. He pulled his cock head from my lips and jammed my jaw shut in one movement. The rest of his load still inside my mouth.
He lifted his cock and dropped it on my face, letting it land with a wet slap. My nostrils flared.
"You were naughty today, I shouldn't have let you taste it," he said, bucking his hips lazily back and forth as his length softened across my face. "Next time you test my patience like that you're wearing the load, hear me? I'm not feeding you again."
"Yeah..." I cooed, lost in his eyes. "I mean-"
He laughed and slapped my cheek one last time before grabbing my wrist and lifting me from the seat.
"This didn't happen, right?" he said, almost cold. Back to office mode Gabriel. All signs of sex beast Gabriel had disappeared.
I muttered an affirmative. I wondered how he could do that, drunk as I felt from his presence.
He unlatched the door and we went to leave, approaching the restroom door. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me in thought.
"Forget that, right? Just don't tell anyone." he said.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah... yeah." he said, as if testing himself. "And you can call me Gabe." he added, as I followed him back into the bustle. I smiled, salty tang still on my tongue.