The roller door to the maintenance shed rattled open. Warm late afternoon
sun streamed through the opening, lighting up various bits of
grounds keeping equipment, shelves of sheet metal and timber, a workshop of
tools. The smell of petrol, concrete and old grass clippings wafted out the
door, the smell of work and a hard day over for the two figures silhouetted
in the doorway.
“Fuck I’m glad that’s over,” said Damo, the older of the two. 42, dark hair
shot with grey, but as fit as ever from years of working outdoors.
“Me too, fuck, I never thought we’d get all that spraying done,” replied
his colleague and mate, Ryan.
Ryan chucked the weed spraying gear roughly back into its spot in the shelf
and flopped down on an upside down bucket, tired. The two of them had spent
the better part of the whole week going around the campus’ five sports
fields hand spraying weeds on the turf. It was boring, sweaty work. “Fuck
I’m buggered.” Ryan sighed. Damo laughed.
“Mate I’m like fifteen years older than you and I could keep going for
hours,” he said. “Maybe it’s time you went to the gym?”
Ryan rolled his eyes with a smile. It was well known around the Sydney Uni
maintenance department that Ryan, the most recent recruit to their happy
little grounds keeping gang, was ripped. A self-confessed, unashamed gym
junkie, Ryan’s only condition on taking shifts was that it interfered as
little as possible with his workout routine.
And as much as Damo and the other guys teased him about it, they all
grudgingly admitted that whatever Ryan was doing, it was working. Damo was
no slouch when it came to looking good in his jocks, but Ryan was next
level, so much so that he’d been approached by the campus queer newspaper
to be on shirtless on their front cover for Mardi Gras later that
year. Ryan was flattered but politely declined.
“Yeah mate,” replied Ryan. “Maybe you’re right. Next time you go, lemme
know, I’ll see if I can fit it in.”
Damo chatted on as he opened his locker and pulled out a towel and a change
of clothes. He slipped unselfconsciously out of his sweaty work clothes,
slung his towel over his shoulder, walked naked past Ryan into the small
bathroom the guys used to wash after a long day. Ryan looked away
awkwardly, never really getting used to how unconcerned Damo was with being
naked in front of him.
“You wanna grab a beer?” asked Damo from the shower.
“Man I’d love that,” replied Ryan. “But I got the late shift tonight.”
“On a Friday? Who’d you piss off?” laughed Damo.
“I know, hey. I think Paul has it in for me.”
Paul was the head of the maintenance department, and a notorious
grump. Damo grunted sympathetically.
“He has it in for everyone,” said Damo. “Don’t take it personally. He’s
just an arsehole. Probably for the best anyway, Amanda’s been riding my
arse about getting home late on Fridays. The kids have been real shits
lately. I should probably go home and be a responsible parent. For once.”
Ryan laughed.
“Yeah better watch out she doesn’t get sick of your shit and kick you out,
man,” he joked.
“No chance of that man, I got a magic cock, she fell in love with it before
she fell for me,” Damo said, stepping out of the shower. He padded back to
his locker, started drying off, just as unselfconscious as ever. Ryan
couldn’t help but look at his bud’s dick. I mean, he wasn’t wrong. Ryan
hadn’t seen that many dicks in real life, but he still reckoned it’d be
hard to top Damo’s for sheer size. It looked like a baseball bat.
“Yeah yeah, we’ve all heard about your awesome dick, save it for Amanda,”
said Ryan, standing up. “I better get back to it, sooner I start, the
sooner I can get out of here.”
“Fair enough mate, don’t work too hard!”
“I won’t,” called back Ryan, walking out the door with his toolkit. He
heard Damo whistling as he left.
The sun was beginning to go down as Ryan walked across campus to his first
job: repairing a busted automatic door in the psych building. Awesome, he
thought. Still it was a beautiful evening, twilight, at his favorite time
of year.
March in Sydney was something else. Summer was technically over but the
weather was great. Everyone was happy, relaxed, beached up, and enjoying
the beginning of a new year. The campus was especially fun. Though he’d
never gone to uni, Ryan did get a kick out of watching the groups of first
year students moving around the campus in excited, naive gaggles, many of
them relishing their first real taste of adult freedom.
Ryan totally got it. When he’d finished school, he drank in the freedom of
adulthood like it gave him life. He was a country boy, grew a few hours
from Sydney, and had no desire to leave the little town he grew up in. He
got a job as a groundskeeper and maintenance guy at the local golf club,
and never looked back. He loved that kind of work, and was really good at
it. That first year after school was one of the best of his life. Freedom,
money, girls… and of course the year he’d met Cassie.
Who, turned out, was one of the worst things for him. Eight years together,
they were engaged, and bam, he catches her shagging his so-called best
friend. It was fucked. His life turned upside down, and Ryan decided he
couldn’t stay out west any more. Everyone knew him, everyone knew Cassie,
he was fed up with getting sympathy from strangers, half of whom apparently
knew the whole time what was going on, or getting random guys coming up
trying to pick fights with him on Cassie’s behalf, his parents asking him
when he was going to start dating again, it all got too much. So six months
ago, he’d uprooted and moved to Sydney.
He got a job at Sydney Uni pretty quickly. Post-pandemic, there were no
workers, and he was more than qualified. And he really loved the work. His
co-workers were great (aside from his boss, who was a giant arsehole, but
whatever), the work kept him outdoors, and best of all, as a staff member,
he got to use the gym and other uni facilities for free, which was awesome
because Sydney was fucking expensive.
It meant he was able to dedicate himself to the closest thing he had to a
side gig, working out, like it was a second job. Prior to breaking up with
Cassie he’d never really thought about how he looked, he just liked being
fit, but once he moved to Sydney it became pretty clear to him he was not
ordinary fit. More underwear model fit, as Damo had put it once. Ryan was
naturally a pretty humble person, but secretly he started checking himself
out in the mirror more, comparing himself to other guys. He had to concede
that yeah, he was pretty fucking fit.
But that was as far as it went for him, he liked his work, his mates, the
gym, video games, bush walks, girls, and beer. He didn’t need the hassle of
trying to make a buck off his body. It was enough for him to know that he
was hot.
He arrived at his first job, the automatic door that didn’t open
automatically. It wasn’t a hard fix, it had come off its runner, and in a
few minutes he had it working again. Ryan marveled at how goddam useless
people could be – apparently it hadn’t occurred to any of the brains
working in this building to just jiggle the door around a bit.
He read out his next work order. It was in the gym. That was pretty cool,
he’d made a few friends who worked there. Maybe one of them was working
late. He set off.
Sure enough when he got there he could see behind the main desk were his
friends Andy and Brook. Brook was a ball of energy, who kept her dark curly
hair up in pigtails more often than not, and, aside from being a kick ass
personal trainer, moonlighted doing burlesque in clubs. Ryan had caught her
eye the first day he stepped foot in the gym, and she wasn’t shy about
it. Ryan knew she had a thing for him, and yeah, she was definitely hot,
but for whatever reason he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate when she
flirted with him, which was all the time. She took it in her stride, not
knowing that Ryan had wondered if they’d actually end up fucking some time
soon.
Andy also flirted with Ryan shamelessly. Andy was the first gay guy Ryan
had made close friends with. Similarly to Brook, Ryan caught Andy’s eye not
long after he started working on campus, and, unbeknownst to Ryan, had been
the subject of many intense conversations between Brook and Andy as to
whether he was into guys, or girls, or both. A few discrete inquiries from
Brook and Andy over the first few weeks of Ryan’s arrival ascertained that,
yeah Ryan was straight, much to Andy’s disappointment, partly because Ryan
wasn’t into dick but also because Brook gloated solidly for a week.
But Ryan really liked Andy. He was fun and funny, and in absolutely
fantastic shape, and was always happy to work out with Ryan, as long as
Ryan was happy to put up with Andy’s frequent insistence on helping him
decide who to hook up with on Grinder.
“Well look who it is!” exclaimed Andy as Ryan walked through the
door. “It’s the hottest guy on campus!”
“Hey Ryan!” exclaimed Brook. She came around the front desk and flung her
arms around his neck, giving him a big kiss on his cheek.
“Hey guys,” said Ryan. “Nice that you’re so happy to see me!”
“As if I wouldn’t be,” replied Brook. “All Andy talks about is dick.”
“Shut up Brook, you’re just as much of a whore as me,” laughed Andy.
“Yeah but I don’t bore my coworkers with blow-by-blow accounts of last
night’s fuck in 357,” she replied.
“Blow-by-blow? Interesting choice of words,” Andy smirked.
“Anyway,” interrupted Ryan, “I gotta do some repairs in one of the locker
rooms. Sooner I get it done, sooner I can get the fuck out of here.”
“You mean you’re not here to see me?” pouted Brook. “I’m heartbroken, you
prick.”
“Yes I can tell, you’re really cut up,” said Ryan, dryly. “If you can cope
without me for an hour or so, I’ll come by and see you before I head
off. How long are you here til?”
“Ugh, we’re here til 10. Then we close,” replied Andy. “Why can’t we just
have automatic passes and cameras, like normal gyms?”
“Because then you wouldn’t have a job, dickhead,” replied Brook.
“Hey, I do personal training.”
“What you do is use personal training as a way to try to get into guys’
pants.”.
“My methods are strange but they get results!” Andy quipped. “Okay well
you guys are busy, I’m gonna go fix whatever the fuck needs fixing in this
locker room,” said Ryan, walking into the gym. “Have fun bickering!”
“Have fun with your big wrench!” called out Andy.
“I’ve seen bigger!” echoed Brook.
Ryan turned around, flipped them off. The pair smiled sweetly and
waved. Ryan shook his head, grinned and kept going.
Since it was Friday at almost 8pm the place was dead as. Even the most
muscled-up college kid would forgo a late night workout to hit the town
with his mates on a Friday night. There was an older woman, a professor
Ryan guessed, power-walking on a running machine with papers in front of
her, but aside from her Ryan didn’t see a soul as he walked through the
empty gym, MTV blaring from the TV screens to no one.
The gym was big. After all, it was the only gym on a campus the size of a
small city suburb. It took him a minute to arrive at his destination, the
male change rooms on the downstairs floor, near the pool.
The locker rooms were as dead as the gym on the other side of the
door. High energy pop from the TVs outside echoing off the tiles was the
only sound.
Ryan looked at his work order again: replacing washers on the shower heads
and faucets in the main shower cubicle. What a kick-ass way to spend Friday
night, Ryan thought sarcastically.
Ryan put in his earbuds as he walked down to the shower
block. AC/DC. Classic Aussie rock. Makes everything better, he thought.
He arrived at the shower cubicle. Just a big open tiled area, with a dozen
shower heads poking out of the wall. He put down his small tool kit, pulled
out a shifter, and got to work. Ryan always liked this kind of gym
shower. Open. Reminded him of high school, after PE. He loved the
camaraderie of the locker room, guys being guys, talking shit, horsing
round. He didn’t really admit it to himself, but he missed it. That raw,
male energy. There wasn’t space in his life for that kind of thing any
more. Kind of a bummer.
Ryan’s reverie was suddenly interrupted by a blast of cold water from the
shower head he was working on. Full bore, like a fire hose, leaving him
spluttering.
“Fuck! Fucking… fuck!” he swore, trying instinctively to stop the spray
with his hands, which just sprayed water everywhere. After a few seconds he
gave up, stepped back, and assessed the damage.
Water shot from the shower socket in a strong, steady blast, almost hitting
the wall on the other side of the cubicle. No way he was getting the head
back on with water pissing out like that. Fuck it. And he was soaked. His
shirt was saturated, and clung damply to his torso. He peeled it off and
chucked it into a slack pile in the corner of the showers.
“Goddammit,” he said out loud. His chest was soaking wet, water running
down between his pecs, through the ridged channels of his abs and soaking
into his shorts. He couldn’t take those off, there was a limit. He just had
to put up with it.
Swearing under his breath, Ryan left the impromptu water feature blasting,
and stalked shirtless through the fluro-lit gym, back to the plant room,
and turned off the water mains. Like he should have done before he took off
the shower head. Fucking idiot, he said to himself, as he walked back into
the change room.
Trying to ignore his damp shorts, Ryan went back to work replacing the
washers. It was repetitive, but Ryan liked it. It gave him a chance to
think, listening to music, doing something with his hands. He always liked
his hands, they were bigger than most guys’, and he’d been told he had a
real strong handshake. When he would arm wrestle with his buds he’d usually
win, partly he reckoned because of his grip. But having biceps like
footballs didn’t hurt either, he considered.
Some movement caught his eye.
Ryan turned round.
Young guy. Maybe 19, 20. He was tall, slim, and and had mess of dark brown
hair. He was standing in the entrance to the showers with a towel wrapped
around him. His eyes matched his hair, deep dark brown, something Ryan
couldn’t help noticing because the kid was staring at him like his life
depended on it.
Ryan startled, awkwardly pulling out his earbuds, said “oh hey… the
uh… shower sprayed me… I uh work here…” he kind of trailed off,
holding the spanner in one hand and a shower-head in the other feeling
stupid. And wet. “You gotta use the showers at the other end of the change
room.”
Ryan realized the kid was starting to blush.
“Oh yeah, cool…” said the kid, turning redder by the second. “I… know
those ones. They’re better. For showers…”, and petered off.
They both stood awkwardly for a second. Ryan didn’t know where to look, and
his eyes strayed down the kid’s body, some chest definition, lightly
muscled stomach… and with shock he realized the kid’s dick was getting
hard.
With a jolt Ryan shot his gaze back up again, inadvertently catching the
kid’s eye again. He’d definitely seen Ryan check him out. Ryan knew it. He
didn’t know what to do, so did nothing as he watched as the kid’s eyes run
down Ryan’s body. Resting on his crotch.
Ryan felt the kid staring at his junk. He looked down. His dick was pretty
obvious, he could see now. He could see the ridge of his own cockhead
flaring out under the dark, wet material of his shorts. No wonder the kid
was staring.
Ryan couldn’t help it. He felt his dick twitch.
He was getting bricked up.
Fuck.
Ryan considered trying to cover his hardening cock with his hands, but he
knew it was useless, the kid could see plain as he was getting rocked. He
didn’t know where to look, so he looked back up at the kid.
Who’d started rubbing his hard dick through his towel.
Now it was who Ryan couldn’t stop staring. He felt his dick boning up by
the second, til I was pressed so hard against his fly it hurt.
Ryan watched as the kid slowly ran his hand up and down his cock, straining
hard against the white towel. His mouth ran dry and his heart started to
pound. He felt kind of dizzy. His brain shut down.
In ten seconds he’d gone from feeling wet and stupid to the horniest he’d
ever been in his whole fuckin life.
Ryan couldn’t help himself. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own,
moving slowly to his crotch, til he had his hard dick gripped through the
denim of his work shorts. The material pressed hard against the back of his
cockhead. All Ryan couldn’t think about was how bad he wanted to see this
dude’s dick.
It was so intense, he could already feel the cum building in his nuts,
threatening to spray inside his wet jocks, right there in front of this
stranger.
“Fuuuck,” breathed out the kid.
Suddenly there was the bang of the change room door getting slammed open,
voices, four or five guys loudly talking about their basketball game that
must have just finished. The kid looked up startled, and the spell was
broken. He tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his boner.
Ryan panicked.
“Yeah so I gotta go… get something…” and with that he pushed past the
kid and through the group of basket ballers, bolted out of the change room,
making a beeline to the staff room, his dick full mast in his shorts. He
burst through the door, closed it quickly behind him, and stood for a
second, a little stunned.
He heard a burst of laughter behind him.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
Ryan spun around to see Andy and Brook at the sink, mugs of tea in their
hands. Brook was pissing herself. Andy had a huge shit eating grin on his
face. “Mate, where’s your shirt?”
Brook managed, “are you auditioning for Chippendale’s or something?” before
losing it again.
Now Ryan was turning red.
“There was this… I fuckin’ forgot to turn off the mains and I got wet…”
he said, flustered. He realized he was still holding the shower-head.
“Looks like you really enjoyed it, mate”, laughed Andy. Ryan was suddenly
aware again of his boned dick pressing against the inside of his wet
jocks. At this, Brook laughed even harder. Ryan fumed.
“Ah get fucked, Andy,” and stalked up to the laundry basket, pulled out a
some stranger’s dirty towel and wiped himself down.
“She must have been hot mate, definitely got your attention.”
“I said get fucked, Andy.” Ryan began to calm down. His dick was softening
in his shorts, and the whole thing started seeming a little dumb. Kind of
funny.
“Guess we gotta get you laid, Ryan,” teased Brook.
“I guess we do,” joked back Andy.
“Shut up, guys,” said Ryan, but he couldn’t help grinning.
“What are you doing tonight?” asked Brook, coyly. “I’m doing my burlesque
routine at Home after I get off here. You guys should come out. Andy is a
great wingman.”
“It’s true,” quipped Andy. “I get straight guys laid like magic. A cute
straight guy out with a cute gay guy, total magnet.”
“Yeah! See?” shot back Brook.
“Guys!” said Ryan. “I don’t need help getting laid. I don’t even know if I
wanna get laid right now.”
“Your dick said otherwise, but whatever,” smirked Andy.
“Just come and watch me,” begged Brook. “It’s always a shit fight there on a
Friday night. I could use a friendly crowd.”
“Come on, Ryan, don’t you wanna be a good friend to Brook?” said Andy,
puppy-dog eyed.
“Yeah,” mimicked Brook, clasping her hands in front of her. “Doncha, Ryan?”
The two kept going, trying to outdo each other on the sad-puppy
act. Finally, Ryan said, “alright! Alright! Jesus. Just… I gotta finish
my job… and lemme get a change of clothes.”
“I think you look fine like that,” winked Andy, “but I love dick so…”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Andy, shut it.”
Lights swirled and music pumped, Andy and Ryan were jostled by the crowd as
they dance half-assed on the dance floor. Brook was somewhere behind the
scenes, getting ready for her burlesque show, and the guys were already
onto their third beers.
Ryan felt buzzed. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the gym
a few hours before. He’d never felt so turned on in his life. And it was a
dude. A dude got him rock hard in like five seconds flat. It was
weird. Actually, no, what was weird was how weird it wasn’t, he thought to
himself. And he felt totally fine about it. Excited even. But he’d always,
always been into chicks, ever since he jerked out his first load, on his
14th birthday as a matter of fact. Ever since, it was all about girls. He’d
never been turned on by a guy until that day.
Well… I mean, he thought, there was Pete in high school… but that was
different…
Ryan realized Andy had asked him a question.
“What?” he shouted over the music.
Andy laughed. “I said, what the fuck are you thinking about, you’ve had
this dumb ass look on your face for five minutes, staring at the wall!”
“Oh, um… nothing…” Ryan replied, and took a big swig of his beer.
Andy gave him a look.
“Nothing? Mate, no one stands on a dance floor at 12.30 am staring off into
the distance thinking about nothing.” Andy took a short pause. “So
uh… who was she, mate?”
“Who was who?”
“Dude, the chick that gave you that rocking boner!” ribbed Andy. “We both
saw it dude, I know what a boned up dick looks like.”
“It was no one man. Fuck, will you drop it?”
Ryan was half-laughing, half annoyed, and Andy figured he still had a bit
of room to press his bud for details.
“At least tell me where you were…”
“I was just working, dude.”
“… and replacing shower head washers is so erotic that you busted a
cannon?”
“I dunno mate, don’t you ever just get random boners? Nothing happened.”
Andy could tell Ryan was lying, but also could tell his mate was beginning
to get irritated. He decided he’d pushed it as far as he could. For now.
“Yeah fair enough man, but dude, if I’d thrown a boner like the one in your
pants, I would absolutely have had to jerk out a load. I dunno how you got
it to go down.”
Andy’s interrogation started having a weird effect on Ryan. He could feel
it, in his nuts, his cock was thickening up. Fuck, again? Thought Ryan.
Luckily at that moment the music changed and a spotlight came up on one of
the stages near the dance floor. Andy’s attention moved off Ryan. “Fuck,
this is Brook!” he exclaimed, and whooped out loud at the top of his
voice. Ryan echoed him, excited to see his friend perform but also relieved
that the topic of his dick was being dropped.
The MC flicked on the mic and announced, “Beautiful people of Sydney, put
your hands together and make some noise for the exotic, the deadly, Paris
de la Lune!”
“Who?” shouted Ryan, as Beyoncé started blaring from the disco
speakers.
“Brook’s show name!” shouted back Brook. “Paris de la Lune! She’s got like
5,000 followers on instagram.”
As he watched Brook perform, Ryan could see why she was so popular. Brook
strutted and high kicked and writhed her stuff in front of the room. Brook
was hot, and it was undeniably sexy to watch her slowly take her clothes
off down to a g-string and nipple tassels in front of hundreds of people.
Ryan felt his dick getting hard for what was probably the dozenth time
since the encounter in the locker room. He was a little relieved it was
happening over a girl instead of the memory of the boned-up dude in a towel
at the gym.
“Man, Brook is hot, hey,” shouted Ryan, once the whooping and applause died
away and the normal roar of the disco kicked up again.
“Sure man, she is,” agreed Andy. “You know she thinks you’re hot, right?”
Ryan laughed a little awkwardly. “Oh yeah man, I know, she’s not subtle
about it.”
“So what, she’s not your type?”
“Nah man, it’s not that, it’s…” Ryan paused. He didn’t know what it
was. “Brook’s a friend. She’s like a sister. Like, you’re a brother.”
“Aw that’s sweet!” said Andy wryly, before adding, “You can’t half tell you
grew up in the country.”
At that moment, Ryan felt the three beers making their presence known in
his bladder.
“I gotta piss,” said Ryan, skulling the last of his beer.
“Thanks for the update, I’ll be sure to ask the DJ to make an
announcement.”
***
The men’s bathroom was dark, noisy. It smelled of piss and sweat and beer
and the unmistakable sweet smell of cum. Ryan stepped up to the urinal,
pulled out his semi-erect cock and started to piss against the wall. The
guy next to him stepped off, and another guy stepped up next to him.
Ryan’s eyes strayed sideways. He found himself hoping it was the guy from
the locker room.
It wasn’t of course. But Ryan couldn’t help notice he was a good looking
dude. Shaved head, tats down his arms, nice body. The guy stared down at
his own dick, oblivious to Ryan’s gaze.
Ryan grew bolder. His eyes strayed down, and before he knew it he was
looking at the guy’s cock, a thick soft cut dick over a set of meaty
balls. He watched for a second the steady stream of piss out of the dude’s
cockhead, then realized what he was doing. He snapped his eyes back in
front of him.
That it was all it took. Ryan felt his dick thickening again, and rapidly.
Fuck.
Not wanting to be seen with a bricked up cock at the urinals he cut off his
piss and stuffed his dick back into his jocks, zipping up his fly. In
seconds, his dick was rock hard again, pressed painfully against the inside
of his jeans.
Andy’s voice popped back into his head, “if I’d thrown a boner like the one
in your pants, I would absolutely have had to jerk out a load.” Fuck. This
wasn’t gonna go away til he took care of it.
Just outside the men’s toilets was an accessible bathroom. Ryan ducked into
it quickly, making sure no one was watching him. He closed and locked the
door, muting the thump of the music outside. The room was dark, the light
almost purple, the floor strewn with scraps of toilet paper, a couple of
half drunk drinks left behind on the toilet’s cistern. Above the sink was a
big mirror, covered in band stickers and graffiti.
Ryan unzipped his fly and released his boned up cock, which sprung out,
hard. It was leaking bad, more than Ryan had seen his dick leak in
ages. Six inches, uncut, but right now Ryan swore it was at least an inch
bigger. He could feel it throb.
Ryan grabbed his cock and started stroking it. He knew he wouldn’t last
long. His balls ached, full of cum he was desperate to release. He caught
his reflection in the mirror.
“This is what that dude would see if I kept going,” Ryan thought, brain
completely fucked up with lust. “He’d be watching me jerk my fuckin’ dick,
just like this.”
He watched his bicep bulge and flex with every stroke, watched his foreskin
slide wetly over his dark pink cockhead, could feel the load building. The
music was loud outside the room, and Ryan couldn’t help himself, he started
to moan out loud.
“Awww fuuuuck…. fuuuuuuck….. awww fuuuUUUCCK!!”
Ryan couldn’t hold back. He felt a thick rope of cum blast out of his
swollen cock, spurting audibly over the mirror. A second rope, then a
third, a fourth, it felt like it was never gonna stop. Involuntarily Ryan
began to thrust his hips, fucking his hand, not wanting it to end. He felt
his load run down between his fingers, dripping into his jocks and onto the
floor.
Finally, the load slowed, then stopped. Ryan stood breathless, looking at
his cum covered dick. Soaked with the thickest load he could
remember. Stripes of spunk sprayed across the floor, up the sink, and
running thickly down the mirror. A last wad of nut dripped off the end of
his cock, splatting on the tiles.
Ryan caught his own eye in the reflection.
“Fuuuck me,” he breathed.
A sudden bang at the door snapped him out of it.
“Hey! Hurry the fuck up!” shouted an angry girl’s voice.
Ryan grabbed a huge wad of toilet paper, wiped down his cock, and tried his
best to wipe up his load up, only spreading it out til you couldn’t really
tell what it was.
One quick check in the mirror make sure he didn’t have a stray wad of cum
on his clothes.
“Fuck mate… that was awesome…” Ryan said to himself, before opening the
door and heading back out into the throng to find his mates.
