The moan that’s been stuck in my throat for the last minute tears out of me. Brock responds by gripping my ass with both hands and taking me deeper, until the head of my cock hitsthe back of his throat. I stop holding back. My hips take over, fucking his mouth, not caring about anything anymore except coming. Hard.
I brace a hand against the wall, knees going weak. My balls tighten. Heat floods through me. I’m right there, right on the?—
“Fuuuuck,” I groan as my hips snap forward, burying myself in his mouth.
I try to pull back, to warn him, but his hands grip my ass tighter, pulling me deeper as I shoot down his throat. I come so hard my vision whites out, and my knees nearly give. Rope after rope, my whole body jerking with each pulse. Three weeks of pent-up frustration, all of it unloading in one explosive rush. It goes on longer than it should, longer than anything I can remember, my whole body locked up and shuddering until I’m slumped against the wall, barely able to stand, as Brock milks the last drops from me.
When he finally pulls off, he drags his tongue along the underside of my shaft, wringing one last grunt out of me. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a string of spit and cum breaking between his lip and my cock.
“Told you it’d be worth it,” he says, that smug grin back on his face. He stands, towering over me in the cramped space, and adjusts himself through his jeans. His bulge looks even bigger now, straining hard against the denim.
“Do you, uh…” My words come out thick, my throat dry. “Do you want me to…?” I gesture vaguely at his crotch.
He shrugs. “I’m good. Watching you lose it like that was enough for me.”
When I tuck myself back in and zip up, he unlocks the stall door, peeks out to make sure the coast is clear, and steps out. I follow on shaky legs. He washes his hands at the sink, catches my eye in the mirror, and winks.
“Should be easier to focus with that out of your system,” he says, drying his hands and tossing the paper towel.
“Yeah. Thanks, man. That was, uh… yeah.”
“My pleasure.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “See you around, Calvin.”
And just like that, he’s gone. The door swings shut behind him.
I grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white. My reflection stares back, wide-eyed and dazed. What the fuck did I just do?
I’m not confused about whether I liked it. I did. That much is obvious. My body’s still humming from it. But I didn’t expect to be that into it. Into him. The sight of him on his knees, looking up at me like that, is going to be burned into my brain for a long, long time.
I splash cold water on my face, trying to clear my head. My hands won’t stop shaking. I have to get back to work. Roxy’s probably losing her mind. But how am I supposed to walk out there and act normal? I thought this was a simple transaction, a loophole in our bet. Instead, I feel like the ground just shifted under my feet.
I run a hand through my hair and take a deep breath.
Christ, Calvin. You really can’t help yourself, can you?
One last look at my reflection, then I push the door open and head back into the noise.
5
“Jesus, I thought you’d died in there,” Roxy says, sliding a beer across the bar to a waiting customer. “I was close to sending a search party.”
“Sorry. Stomach issues,” I say, ducking behind the bar and grabbing a glass.
She squints at me. “You didn’t rub one out in there, did you? That’s cheating.”
“What? No. Of course not.” I avoid her eyes, wiping down the bar. “Just felt off for a second.”
“Youdolook a bit pale, actually. Are you okay to work?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
That seems to satisfy her for now. She turns to take another order, and I fall back into the rhythm of the job. Pour, serve, collect money, repeat.
The bar’s gotten even more crowded since I left. Noise bouncing off the walls, bodies everywhere. But my head’s not in it. My hands feel clumsy, the glasses slippery. I keep glancing over at the football table. At Brock.
He’s laughing at something one of his teammates said, Heineken Zero in hand. Totally relaxed. Like he didn’t just have my dick down his throat ten minutes ago.
Is this how girls feel after hooking up with me? All twisted up inside, while I move on as if nothing happened? It’s a weird thought. It makes me feel like an asshole.
