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I tested my luck. I glanced over, just as interested in the possibility of his shirt hiking up to reveal a fuzzy belly as I was in getting a look at his cock. Both were impressive. I stiffened, making it impossible to finish.

“At least an eight, maybe a nine.”

“It’s thick, but hardly eight.”

“Uh… I meant…”

“I’m messing with you.” I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I wanted to ask if the bartender had a ruler and I could prove him wrong. Did my mystery man intentionally flirt? “You’re pretty damned cute yourself.”

I fought with my penis, tucking it inside my briefs and zipping up.

We flushed at the same time and walked over to the sinks.

As we washed our hands, we kept alternating quick looks in the mirror.

He definitely looked familiar. Something was off—maybe the facial hair?

Oh no, was he somebody I made out with once upon a time on the dance floor and forgot his name?

The moment had reached electric. “Do I?—”

His hands shot up, and I flinched, preparing for a sucker punch. He cupped my cheeks as he pressed his lips against mine. Oh… ohhh. I didn’t stop him. His beard rubbed against my goatee. Between that and the alcohol, I almost giggled. No, no giggling while Hottie McHotterson made out with me.

There were good kissers, and then there were good kissers. My mysterious man was the latter. With the right amount of pressure and his tongue grazing my lip, I opened my mouth, giving him an open invite. The smell of bourbon on his breath and the cedar of his cologne were enough to make me melt.

He pushed forward until he had me pinned against the wall. When he started pulling away, I held his bottom lip between my teeth, refusing to end the kiss.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he whispered.

Years? I could barely remember what I had for breakfast.

On the best of days, I’m not great at picking up subtle hints.

Without Mabel, I would’ve drunk my beer and never noticed this gorgeous man and his…

did his breath smell of bourbon, or did his beard?

Either way, I wanted to get drunk inhaling the scent of this man.

He pulled back with a smirk on his face.

I almost missed the casual glance down. No… he couldn’t be interested… here?

“In case you missed it. I am ready, willing, and enthusiastically interested in putting my hand in your pants.”

Who said asking for consent couldn’t be sexy?

How did I reply? If I was in my right mind, I’d have given him a sexy come hither look and leaned back on the sink.

Would it be too forward if I bent over and dropped my pants?

I really needed to ask around and figure out the answers before I needed them.

He stepped closer, his belly pressing against mine. With another step, he had me pressed against the wall, and I’d have let him do whatever he wanted. Hopefully, a hand in my pants was a euphemism for ravishing me until I begged him to stop.

“Yes.” Direct and lacking grace. Mabel and Amanda were right. I had zero game. Thankfully, mystery man didn’t seem to mind.

His hand reached for the button on my jeans.

Snap. Zip. They dropped halfway down my thighs.

His hand ran over my package before traveling along my belly.

He lifted my shirt, smiling at what he discovered.

Not nearly as hairy as him, but I did fairly well amongst the bears.

He traveled north, and for a moment, I thought he was going to pull me in for another kiss.

Click. He reached past me and locked the bathroom door.

“Not where I imagined, but I can’t wait any longer.

” He imagined getting me naked? I didn’t think any man had ever said he found me hot enough to risk getting caught.

If I wasn’t stiff before, I strained against the front of my briefs.

He checked me up and down, his expression suggesting that, at any moment, he’d devour me.

Feast away!

His hand slid along my sides, rounding my stomach, careful as he entered tickle territory.

My friend admired a chubby man and knew exactly where to let his fingertips drag and where to back off.

He reached my waistband, his hand casually touching my package.

There was no way he couldn’t tell where I wanted this to go.

If the excitement in my pants didn’t give it away, the big goofy grin did.

He kissed my cheek, gentle pecks following my jaw until he reached my ear.

I gasped as he bit my earlobe. My hips pressed forward against his hand, causing a moan.

Trailing down my neck, he switched between kissing and dragging the flat of his tongue against my neck.

I could have melted then and there. I’m sure half the excitement came from the buzz of too many beers and a sexy man hitting on me.

“Make me come.”

It had been months since I had the time to go on a date and weeks since I had seen another naked. He had presented the opportunity, and I wouldn’t miss it by being bashful. His hand slipped inside my underwear, fingers studying the head, fingers sliding down the shaft until they circled the base.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

He kissed his way up my neck, returning to my ear as he jerked back and forth.

Enhanced by the taboo, he did the perfect job of stroking the length of my cock.

I wasn’t his first, not with the way he squeezed the base, causing a wet spot in my briefs.

At any moment, if he picked up his tempo, I’d come.

“Come for me.” It wasn’t a request. As much as I wanted it to last for the rest of the night, it was only a matter of time before somebody banged on the door. He sped up, his fingers rubbing the sensitive spot just beneath the head. I didn’t hold back.

My knees threatened to buckle. I chewed my lip, but it did little to quiet the moan growing in the back of my throat.

I’m sure it felt the same as jamming scissors into an electrical outlet.

It hit like a surge of electricity and I tightened my grip around his shoulders to keep from falling.

I wanted to kiss him, but as the muscles tightened to the point of cramping, I had to keep from toppling. When I came, my underwear turned wet.

“Feels amazing,” I hissed. My cock turned sensitive, and he knew to loosen his grip before pulling away. I didn’t release him, still not trusting my legs. “When can we do that again?”

Instead of answering, he brought his hand to his mouth, lapping at the splash of cum in his hand.

There’s hot, and then there’s a beautiful, thick, rugged man who refuses to break eye contact while swallowing my cum hot.

My friend had left the first far behind.

To prove his point, he sucked his finger.

“Cruel,” I whispered.

“Tasty,” he said.

He stood, the back of his hand wiping his mouth.

First round done; now I only needed a minute before we started the next.

I kissed him, tasting the cum on his lips…

my cum. Damn, there was something incredibly sexy about this beautiful man swallowing me without question.

If he wanted another load, I’d start stroking now.

He kissed the tip of my nose before resting his forehead against mine. A pounding on the door jolted me from my happy place. I damned near pounded back and told them the bathroom had a leaky pipe that needed fixing.

“Maybe someday I could return the favor?” Even with the techno music thumping outside, we remained in our peaceful bubble.

“Are you asking for my number?” Caught. He didn’t wait for a reply. “Phone?”

As he texted himself from my phone, I continued trying to place his face.

Maybe he worked at the bank? I could swear I knew him, but a younger, clean-shaven version.

It’d nag at me until I woke up from a dream, most likely about him playing with my cock.

His phone dinged, confirming he hadn’t given me a fake number.

“Look forward to chatting.” Chatting or making out like teenagers? Wherever the night took us. He gave me another quick peck before he hiked up my pants. Like a true gentleman, he tucked my cock into my jeans and buttoned me up. With a zip, our trashy love affair had ended.

He flicked the lock and pulled open the door. Another patron glanced from him to me and back again. I waited for the snide comments, but he shuffled between us. He let out a long sigh. “Next time, use your back seat like normal sluts.”

It went on the list… that and a hundred other locations I wanted to bang… Dammit. I didn’t even know mystery man’s name. If I were going to feel slutty, I’d do it with pride. I straightened my back and widened my stance. I hope they could all smell the bourbon from his beard.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” I told the man. “You never know what goes on in these bathrooms.”