[Breeder] Blog-fan Bathroom Blow-job

[TheBreeder]

To see Breeder's original blog post click here

When I walked into the marble atrium, with its grand piano plinking away with some kind of invisible player, cold jets of air whooshed down on me. Whether to cool me, or to blast any impurities from my decidedly downscale clothing before I stepped into the upscale mall, I didn’t know. I walked past the glass elevators, past the grand shops with their beautifully-decorated windows, and down the shiny stone stairs into the basement.

Where the men’s room was.

The last time I wrote about visiting this upscale mall, when I masturbated for a kid in the upstairs men’s room toilets, I got an email from a reader who recognized exactly where I was posting about. He told me he cruised there as well, and gave me some stats—38, bi, six feet tall, and a cocksucker who didn’t require reciprocation. Did I want to meet there sometime when he was in town on business? Hell yes I did.

We passed a few more emails this week. He was driving into town on Wednesday, he met. Should we meet in the basement restroom for some more privacy, while he was there, he wanted to know? I was all for it. I told him I’d be wearing jeans and black sneakers. He told me he’d be wearing silver tennis shoes. It was a date.

I was a good five minutes early to the downstairs bathroom, yesterday. When I sat down in the next-to-last toilet, though, I spied a pair of silver tennis shoes in the stall next to mine. We waited until a guy at the urinals had finished his business, washed his hands, and left. Then I tapped my left foot.

Immediately he tapped back with his right.

Ordinarily there’s a process to cruising in a men’s room, a dance of tapping back and forth, followed by some cautious overtures beneath the stall. I didn’t think we needed the extra precautions, however. I knelt down on the floor with one knees so that if he bent over, he could see me stroking my hardening cock. Beneath the stall I saw the shadow of his outline as he leaned forward, and then a cautious dip of his head. After he’d bobbed out of sight, he moved his head back down again. I caught a glimpse of one eye and half of a handsome face. He was looking.

I put my hand beneath the partition, palm up. As I expected, he stood up and face toward me, then knelt down. Two brown legs poked beneath the partition. I hardened further at the sight of his soft cock as it came into view. My hand held it, squeezed it; I moved my fingers under his balls and swiped the outside of his hole.

He pulled his knees back. It was my turn. I spread my legs and thrust my knees beneath the partition, so that my rock-hard dick was protruding underneath. Almost immediately I felt something warm and wet and sloppy on it. The stranger—my blog reader—was sucking on my rod so expertly and hungrily that it felt as if he was hoping to make it even bigger and longer. I thrust forward even more, trying to maneuver my body so that my anonymous fan could take as much of me in his mouth as possible.

I let out a gasp as he sucked even harder and with more vigor. His hand joined his mouth in traveling up and down the shaft. I had to grasp onto the ledge of the toilet dispenser for balance, as my other hand clutched onto the underside of the partition. My elbow rested on the toilet seat. As much as I wanted to let go completely and slide my entire body under the metal divider, I knew I had to keep my wits about me. While my unknown servicer slurped up and down the length of my inches, he stroked my balls and kept me on the very edge.

The outer door creaked and stirred the air around us. Very quietly and swiftly I pivoted out from under the partition and up onto the toilet seat, as someone walked into the room and took the stall next to mine. In the reflective tile I could see my cocksucker bending over to assess the situation. The new guy dropped his pants and immediately dismissed any hopes we might have had that he was a fellow cruiser by letting out the most tremendous and unrestrained fart I’d heard in some time. While I jacked off, smelling the scent of my sucker’s spit on my hand, the new guy proceeded to take the loudest dump imaginable.

He was one of those guys who cheered himself on as he did it, too, following each blast with a grunt of aw yeah! or that’s it! Once he was done, he lingered. For an eternity he sat there on his toilet seat, playing with his cell phone with a series of beeps and boops, muttering things like, Toledo! You gotta be kidding me! Or, What is this, what is this? Another man came in and sat in the last of the stalls while the prodigious dumper finished wiping up and finally left.

But the minute that last guy was out of the restroom, I was down on my knees again. I didn’t even wait for an invitation; I shoved my dick beneath and was immediately met with a warm, wet, mouth. If anything, my blog fan was even hungrier after having been deprived for a few minutes. He turned his head sideways and began swallowing me to the base. I could see the profile of his face as he sucked and slurped on my dick. I let my left hand rest on the top of his head and ran my fingers through his short, wiry fair hair. My legs were trembling as he kept me right on the edge of orgasm for a very, very long time.

From outside the door, the static-laced sound of a security radio sparked the silence. We both pivoted up and away from each other, waiting for the men’s room door to open. It was a false alarm. Down I went again. My cocksucker frantically went to town on my dick for a few seconds—and then the door opened.

Part of the thrill of public sex, of course, is the risk. But I was finding the interruptions more annoying than exhilarating, at this point. Three more times I went down on my knees after that, followed by three more bouts of sounds in the hallway and close calls in what was supposed to be one of the quietest restrooms in the county. But it was lunchtime, and more traffic than usual was clogging up the hallway. I had to call it quits. During one of the interruptions I stood up, pulled up my pants, zipped and fastened, and left the men’s room and the mall.

So to my cocksucker blog fan, if you’re reading today—dude, you were awesome. Seriously. Best head I’ve had in weeks. One day I would love to have you between my legs in a quiet spot, just sucking and slobbering away.

All those security radios and the constant sound of footsteps persuaded me to take the wise course and get out, is all.

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