Page 3 of Clean Slade
A guy pissing at the urinals behind me told me to fuck off before he stumbled out and I was all alone.
“Handsome,” someone said, and I foundhimat the corner of the mirror, leaning against the door, staring at me. The man that had been haunting me all night.
He was even more stunning in the light. Smooth white skin, big eyelashes, body hugged to tight perfection by a tailor-made black suit.
“Thanks,” I said without turning to face him, instead sticking to watching him in the mirror.
He smirked, straightened, and put his whiskey glass on the countertop as he made his way toward me.
“I’m only saying what I’m seeing,” he said.
A knot formed in my throat as he stood behind me, so close I could feel the heat of his body.
I could just about gokaboomany moment now.
“You’re the sexiest man in this club,” I somehow told him without stuttering.
Which shouldn’t surprise me because I never stuttered. I also never stared. But for some reason, this guy made me weak in the knees, so anything was possible under his gaze.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he put a hand around my waist before dragging it down to my semi-hard cock. I went hard instantly in response, and I only just about managed to drown a moan before it came out.
He bit his lip again and pressed his body to my back. A hardness wedged between my ass cheeks, and I held my breath for fear of doing something embarrassing, like whimpering.
Without warning, I spun around and trapped his lips with mine, stealing a taste of him. Strong and sweet, just like his drink of choice. He reached my chest with both hands and seized the fabric of my T-shirt in his fists, pulling me closer.
I put my hands on his face, cupping each side, and deepened the kiss until we were both panting.
The guy fiddled with the buttons of my jeans, and I moved my attention to his neck and earlobes, tasting his salty skin and potent perfume that only drove my need more insane.
He dropped to his knees and took my cock in his mouth with big, hungry gulps that made me throb and caused sweat to trickle down the middle of my back.
He didn’t care that he’d just met me. He wasn’t shy. He went for it, alternating sucking me off with jerking me, smearing his spit all over.
It was like witnessing a thirsty man finally being given water. A caged man finally being set free. A loveless man finally finding compassion.
I didn’t know which it was. Didn’t even know if I was right or just making up stories in my head to justify what I was doing, but I stroked his head, brushed my thumb over his cheekbones, and guided him deeper.
If my dick was what he wanted, who was I to deny him the pleasure? It didn’t matter that we were in a bathroom or that anyone might walk in at any point. Hell, that made what we were doing more thrilling. It made our encounter all the more urgent. It made my head even lighter than it was.
He stood and unbuckled his belt. I attempted to drop to my knees to return the favor, but he put his hand on my chest and stopped me.
He hopped on the counter with his pants stuck around his ankles and wrapped his hands around his ass cheeks, showing me his hole.
Oh boy. He really is not kidding.
I looked over to the door. It was suspiciously undisturbed for a packed club.
Who cares?
I located the condom machine and put a few quarters in, but nothing came out. I tried another four. Still nothing. Punching the machine, hoping to put some sense into it, made no difference either.
“Leave it,” the guy said, and I sighed.
For fuck’s sake. I’ve lost my chance with him.
My disappointment threatened to deflate more than my ego, but when I turned around, the guy was still lying on the counter. He flicked one of the taps open and wet his hole, staring at me.
“Just fuck me already.”
