Actually no. I’d been in a public men’s bathroom a year ago at a Sara Bareilles concert. The line for the ladies was a mile long and my friends were like, fuck it, let’s just go in there. Guys mostly use urinals so there were plenty of open stalls. And the guys didn’t care one bit that we were chatting and fixing our make up in the mirror. In fact, there may have been as many girls in there as guys!
And anyway, I wasn’t thinking too rationally, right at the moment. He may have led me to that bathroom, but I was leading him now. I grabbed his collar, backed him against the wall, and covered his mouth with mine. I was aware of my height. Something about being taller than he was appealed to me right then. Breathing hard, I kissed him. Wet. And deep. I took his mouth, my body pressed into his against the wall.
He whimpered, and moaned, “Yes. Take me.”
I held his head in both hands, fingers in his adorable curls, and kissed him again, fucking his mouth with my tongue. I heard him breathing so urgently, letting little sighs and moans escape his lips. His hands rested against my breasts. I pulled his shirt tails free and ran my hands underneath. Oh, his body was so smooth. Whatever he did to train for track–swimming, weight room–it did the trick. He had rippled abs and just the right definition to his pecs. And his skin was soft.
I ran my hands up his back and held him to me. Then I let one hand roam over his chest while the other slipped slid down. He sucked in his hard stomach and a two-inch gap appeared between his body and the waistline of his jeans. I accepted the invitation. Feeling his cock in my hand, it was my turn to moan. Ohhh, god… he was so smooth and warm. He was just the right size: “fun sized.” If he were a dildo, he’d be that one you bought because it’s just the perfect size for your ass. I smiled to myself at the thought.
I could feel his hands opening his shirt. I don’t know why I find a guy in a white button-down shirt so hot, but hanging open I could now see his sexy upper body. He looked like a Greek sculpture, complete with that awesome curved line defining his lower abdomen. What do they call that, again? My mind flashed on Michelangelo’s David we studied last semester in Art History. I was sure there was a name for that line. I guess I’ll only get partial credit on that one. LOL!
He was mine now. I tugged open the top button of his jeans. He was wearing maroon bikini style underwear. Very cute. I liked him. I wanted him. I tugged the waistband down under his cock and dropped to my knees. He was hard, and his cock stood straight up against his body. I gave him a squeeze and a slick droplet of precum formed at the tip, I kissed it and rubbed his smooth beauty over my lips. Then I engulfed his hard cock in my mouth. I took his whole length sucking him hard and reaching down with my lips, then rising up to the head swirling my tongue around the top. He inhaled sharply. I loved how he felt in my mouth. I paid extra attention to that little ridge, and to the underside. Strings of saliva stretched from my mouth. I was ready for some stress relief and I was taking no prisoners. I felt like I had been set loose at a sexual smorgasbord and I wanted some of everything.
Just then I heard a noise. I turned to my left. There stood a tall, broad-shouldered guy just inside the door. He was wearing a Minnesota Vikings football jersey. Seeing us, me on my knees “in flagrante delicto,” his jaw fell open. I had forgotten we were in public! This was not at all what I had planned. This was no porn film. I was not about to invite some football dude to just…join in. Plus, he was entirely unappealing. He was coarse, with a big neck, and he had something of a mullet.
“Basket?” he snorted, “What the hell??”
My guy. (I didn’t even know his name) replied, “Um…kind of busy right, now, Robbie…” I supposed I shouldn’t have been too surprised they knew one another; the school wasn’t that big.
Now I spoke up, “Hey, you! ‘Robbie,’ is it? Stand outside the door and don’t let anyone in. This restroom is closed for…maintenance, right now. Got it? Do a good job and I might…reward you, later!”
I leaned into the innuendo. I had no idea where that came from. It just flew out of my mouth. And I had no intention of “rewarding” him–at least not in the way I let him think I would.
“Yes, ma’am!” he replied, and turned on his heel.
Turning back to the matter literally at hand, I looked up, “Basket??” I questioned.
“You really want to hear about that now?” he said.
“No.” I replied.
I stood and covered his mouth with mine lest he should decide to start in on a nickname origin story. His cock sprang back to life.
“Come on,” I said leading him into a stall.
Not sure why I thought that was necessary, what with Big Moose guarding the door, but I was on autopilot. I turned around and raised my skirt.
“Fuck me, right now,” I implored him.
“Yes ma’am!”
I smiled. I appreciated the honorific. Made me feel in charge. I lowered my panties down just below my ass. His hands were all over my bare cheeks. He spread them apart.
“Oh, god,” he whispered, “that’s so fucking hot!”
I could feel his cock caressing my upper thighs, probing through. The head of his penis reached my clit. I was so wet. I adjusted the angle of my hips and pressed down on him. We moaned in unison as I glided down on his cock. I could hear Big Moose on the other side of the door telling people, “This one’s closed right now, go down to five!” (Good boy, Ronnie.)
He fucked me hard, and I met his thrusts, pushing my ass back against him. I could tell he wasn’t going to last very long. We didn’t have much time, anyway.
“Stay still,” I ordered, “I want to ride you.”
I hovered my pussy with his cock just inside, before sinking back hard. We moaned again, our sounds reverberating off the tiled walls. I sunk down again while he held my hips. Then I changed my angle and he fell out of me. I squeezed him between my thighs, rubbing my wet pussy against him, straddling his cock. He was stretched down which put pressure against my very juicy pussy. I reached down and rubbed my hard clit and the head of his cock, too. That put me over.
“Oh yes. Oh. I’m cumming!” I breathed.
My legs were shaking. I braced myself on the sides of the stall. My orgasm sent him over the edge, too. I felt warm semen pulsing under me, dripping down my legs, pooling on the gusset of my panties. I pulled up them and turned around. We threw our arms around each other and pressed our heads together. We were both breathing heavily.
“Damn, that was hot,” I whispered.
“Sure beats studying for linguistics finals,” he retorted.
“What?” I asked moving away just far enough to look him in the eye. How did you know I was studying for a linguistics final?”
“Um, you’re in my class, hey.”
“Shut up! How do I not know this??”
“It’s a big lecture class. There’s probably 150 people in there and I’m always in the back, high up…”
It’s true; there were a lot of people in that class. It was held in one of those steep amphitheater-style halls.
“…And anyway, you’re always way down front. I’ve seen you studying with your friends in Kauffman.”
“Ha! If it weren’t for those friends, I’d have flunked already.”
He laughed. “I’m sure it’s not that bleak. Why don’t you come over to my room and I’ll help you. We’ve still got two days.”
“What about Ronnie?”
“Who?
“Our security guard??”
“Oh, Robbie! Don’t worry about him,” a playful smile lit up his face. “He owes me a favor. I wrote him a history paper!”
Now I laughed. “Okay. I’ll come over after I get myself cleaned up. You’ve made kind of a mess–not that I’m complaining! Where do you live?”
“Doty, 205.”
“Get out! I live four floors above you. 615!”
I could hear Robbie shooing someone away from the door. “I’ve gotta get out of here.” I started for the door.
“Hey wait,” he called. “I’m James.”
“Hello, James. I’m Amanda.”