Page 6 of Glitter

Tearing off a few squares of toilet paper to crumple around the condom, I used the rest of it to cursorily swipe at the cum and lube sticking to my dick. I’d definitely need to do a more thorough clean up in the shower at home, but wiping off even a little bit of the stickiness was better than nothing. I then pulled up my pants and underwear, tucking my dick away, and tugged my t-shirt back down over the soft swell of my stomach.

I caught just a brief glimpse of pink lace against pale, silky smooth skin before my angel efficiently dragged his pants back into place, rebuttoned, and rezipped. His own crumpled wad of toilet paper, he casually flicked into the toilet behind me. Then, batting his eyelashes at me, he softly patted my belly—thankfully, not seeming to notice or care that it was bigger and smooshier than I’d like it to be—and asked sweetly, “Flush that for me, would you, boo? You’re closer. And I’d really prefer not to get whatever grubby germs that are on it on my hands.”

“Sure, yeah, of course,” I swiftly answered, happily willing to do pretty much anything he wanted. And Iwascloser.

Twisting my body to reach the lever, which luckily didn’t look any grosser or dirtier than one found in any other public bathroom, my stomach sank when I turned back around and saw that he’d unlatched and opened the stall door.

He’d gently instituted a no names situation and…that was fine. Really. It was. But without a name, without knowing anything about him—other than what he looked like and how perfect his ass felt wrapped around my cock—how would I ever be able to see him again?

Thinking that, if anything, he might be willing to exchange numbers, I started to ask, “Could I—” but he interrupted me before I was able to get more than those few words out.

“Saying goodbye is never fun, is it, boo?” His long, slender fingers gripped the sides of the doorway as he hovered in the opening, starkly vibrant against the dull matte black of the painted metal structure. His pink glossed lips curled into a playful smirk as he added, “Which is why I never do. Say goodbye, that is. Instead, I’ll just leave you—while I go try to track down where on earth my shirt has got to—with a…see you around, boo.”

And then he was gone.

Turning away from me, calmly striding across the bathroom floor, casually and easily pulling open the door leading back into the club, and… He was gone.

My angel.

Gone.

But that couldn’t…that couldn’t be it. Right? One night—not even a full night, might I add—couldn’t be it.

It just couldn’t.

And yet, as I was left, standing all by myself in the stall of a nightclub bathroom, with the only proof that everything that had just happened had really happened the stickiness of the remnants of lube and cum rapidly crusting up on my dick, a used condom swaddled in toilet paper in my hand, and the general feeling of satisfaction that came from a really, really good orgasm, I had to wonder if, yes, maybe this was it. Maybe this brief moment in time, this fleeting encounter, was all I was ever going to get with my sparkling angel.

I should be grateful that I’d been lucky enough to even get that much.

And I was.

I just also couldn’t help but hope that my luck would hold and, somehow, someway, I would be fortunate enough for another chance to see my angel again.

Maybe he’d even let us exchange names in addition to bodily fluids next time.

Chapter 3

Another night, another packed crowd of hot, sweaty, horny men looking for The One. The One for one night, several nights, or forever…well, that probably varied.

Once more, the lights were flashing brightly above the writhing melee on the dance floor and the music—indistinguishable from the stuff the DJ was playing last night. Maybe it even was the same songs he had on last night—was loud, rhythmic, and continuously flowing.

Like the others here, I, too, was here looking for The One.

Although, in my case, it was more that I’d already found my One, I’d had him, my angel—if only briefly—I’d lost him, and now I was back hoping to find him again.

There wasn’t really any reason for me to think that just because I wanted him to be at Glitter again tonight that he would be. All I had was hope. But this club was the only lead I had on how to find my angel again. It would be nice if I had some way of knowing whether Glitter was one of his regular haunts or if last night had been the one and only time he ever planned to set foot within its walls.

On the one hand, he had seemed familiar with the layout of the club, particularly the location of the bathrooms. But perhaps that had merely been luck. Or a general familiarity with clubs of these kind—beyond the exact position of the bar in relation to the entrance, pretty much all of the clubs I’d ever been to had been laid out in the same general way.

These were the thoughts pinging around in my head as my hopeful, eager gaze swept across the interior of the club. Peering, searching among the thicket of men standing three deep along the length of the bar. Flitting from clustered group to clustered group of men arrayed around and between the waist-high tables set ringing the outer perimeter of the large space. Looking, looking…hoping to spot an alluring tumble of pink hued curls. A stunningly pretty, captivating face.

My heart raced. Anticipation, want, and fear all waging a tumultuous war that rumbled and roiled in the pit of my stomach.

And then everything seemed to stop.

My breath, my thoughts, the very blood flowing in my veins.

Because there he was.

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