Page 6 of Teach Me (Extracurricular Activities Book 4)
He wasn’t coming.
I tried to temper the disappointment gnawing at my gut. It didn’t belong there. Not for a onetime bathroom hookup, even if I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And definitely not for a bathroom hookup that maybe didn’t even qualify as a hookup since we’d never seen each other’s faces.
I shouldn’t have been here in the first place, but I’d bailed on the frat mixer the rest of my roommates were going to and followed my urges like a siren song back to the club, hoping against all odds that my stranger would return, drawn by the same enigmatic allure I was.
Was telepathic horniness a thing?
Even though I’d been pathetically loitering in the lemon-scented stall for a half hour, the night hadn’t been a total wash. I’d danced my ass off, gotten a go-go dancer’s number that I’d never use but which was still flattering, had made friends with the bartender, who didn’t seem to judge me for my repeated soda and lime orders. Or maybe it was the generous tips I gave him. As a fellow server, I couldn’t help it.
I was having a good time. I had no regrets about missing the mixer either. They weren’t my speed anymore, if they had ever been, and the eye candy here was better anyway.
I straightened and peered through the crack between the door of the stall as the main bathroom door swung wide. The heavy baseline and a cacophony of voices swam inside. I studied what I could of the guys who came past my field of vision. Was one of them my mystery guy?
But no, every single one of them headed toward the line of urinals or the sinks.
That twinge of disappointment fired up again. I checked my watch and huffed out a sigh. 11:45, which was past the time my stranger had arrived last time. I needed to leave before one to get enough sleep for work the next morning.
My breath caught in my chest as the door to the stall next to me slammed shut, rattling the wooden wall between. Someone had snuck in while I was distracted.
My heart galloped in my chest, and my pulse soared as a pair of shoes angled toward the wall between us. A second later, it sank in disappointment again.
I stared down at the dick jutting through the hole. Look, I wasn’t well versed in glory hole protocol, and I’d certainly never meant to utilize one. It had just happened, but usually, and even as horny as I was, I’d hope for a little more lead-in than a semisoft dick curling somewhat sadly over the hole. I had no idea what sort of preamble would’ve worked for me, but it definitely wasn’t the plaintive “C’monnn” that came from the other side.
I shrank back from the hole, every cell in my body twisting with major ick. It wasn’t my guy. Not his dick, not his voice.
What was I supposed to do now, though? Smack the flaccid member draped over the hole like a sail without a breeze? Try to gently push it back through the hole to its owner? Both seemed a little extreme, so I kept quiet, and another handful of seconds later, the dick disappeared, thank fuck.
“Fucking cocktease.” A noisy huff of displeasure accompanied the squeak of hinges as the guy slammed the door open.
I rubbed a hand over my face and accepted defeat. I was done with this. Officially done. I would call it a night and go home. The next time I was horny, I’d do what 97 percent of people did and use a fucking app or porn instead of standing in a stupid bathroom stall waiting on some glory hole Prince Charming to rock my world the way he had before.
“Pardon.” A low baritone resounded in the brief lull between songs, and I froze.
“Don’t bother. It’s another guilt king who wants to look and fantasize,” the guy who’d just left the stall snipped.
“Noted.”
I don’t know how I knew. I’d never heard him speak a full sentence, but it was him, my stranger. I could feel it.
The outer restroom door clanged opened again, and a fresh wave of bass drowned out what the departing man said. Good fucking riddance to him.
The stall door closed, and my breath shallowed as I caught a glimpse of the guy’s shoes. I was almost certain they were the same ones he’d been wearing last time. Heat zapped through my groin, and my mouth went dry.
My heart thudded and then began sprinting, my dick already half-hard as I waited to see what my stranger would do. God, I wanted this again, and now that he was here, I could acknowledge how desperately I’d hoped for it.
But once again, I had no fucking idea what I was supposed to do. Saying, “Welcome back, please stick your dick through the hole so we can proceed,” was comically cringey.
So once again, I said nothing and waited. One second, two, three. Every swallow felt like it got stuck in my throat. The guy’s feet shuffled, and then he cleared his throat, too. Maybe, like me, he was uncertain how to start?
My dick throbbed as I dipped slightly and peered through the hole.
From this vantage point, I could see the stranger unfastening his pants. Tonight, he had on a dark T-shirt, plain, displaying a light dusting of hair over his forearms. His hands were the stuff of dreams, and my eyes were glued to his right as he pulled out his cock. I sucked in a slow breath, feathering a touch over the bulge of my erection.
Long, smooth, and gorgeous, my stranger’s cock stiffened with his touch, jutting in the air after a few strokes so tight I felt the pressure resonate in my balls.
I swallowed hard as he turned toward the hole I peered through, still stroking his dick leisurely. He knew I was watching, I was sure of it. And like last time, he had my full attention.
My dick jerked in my pants, and my breath came faster as I swept my fingers through the hole and beckoned him, repeating the motion I’d made last time.
My stranger took a step forward, still working his cock, circling his thumb around the crown until a dollop of precum glazed the pad. After a stuttered pause, as if he’d lost his rhythm or hesitated, his thumb appeared through the hole. I bent lower and took it between my lips, tasting the burst of salt on my tongue and barely checking a moan. Why did I find this so fucking hot?
His groan rang through me like a dirty answer.
I didn’t know this guy from fucking Adam, but there was something about him, his sense of presence and calm, that made me burn for his attention.
I lapped at the tip of his thumb, and he pressed it against my teeth, the inside of my cheeks, my tongue, like we’d been lovers for years and he knew exactly what I wanted.
I could’ve sworn I heard an approving hum as I gently nipped the tip.
“Please,” I whispered when he pulled away. I had no idea if he heard me, until a moment later when his flushed cock slid through the hole.
I could feel the shudder that ran through him when I gently sucked on his crown, naked this time, just for a second, loving the warmth of his bare skin and the salt-tinged flavor that invaded my mouth. Then, I rolled a condom on him and took him deeper, taking in the pulse of veins against my tongue as another shudder gripped him. Fuck, he liked it so much, and it was wild that I could discern that with a wooden wall between us. He was expressive enough that his pleasure was obvious, and it was heady as hell.
Primal urge overtook my attempts at being cool, and I sucked him down. Gagging on his tip as it hit the back of my throat, I was rewarded with a tremble I could feel. When he began fucking my mouth, my eyes drifted closed, and with each stroke, he plunged deeper, testing my limits and setting off a wildfire of ecstasy that thrummed through my veins. His pace grew more urgent, his thrusts increasingly erratic while my world narrowed to nothing but the hunger I felt for him, the slickness of his shaft, and the intensity of his strokes as he started to lose control. With a hoarse cry, he let go, filling the condom. I stroked him through the aftershocks until he finally pulled away.
Settling back on my heels, I wiped my mouth with one hand, panting, the other still gripping his cock. When I released him gently, he retreated, and a sense of emptiness washed through me that it was already over.
Before I could get to my feet, two fingers slid through the hole and curled, the unhurried gesture a perfect mimicry of mine. I blanched, suddenly unsure whether he was truly offering to return the favor.
No?
I wasn’t certain if he’d asked that aloud or if it was in my head, but I replied anyway. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”
Scrambling fully upright, I fumbled my zipper lower and pushed my pants down on my hips, my cock popping free like it was spring-loaded and leaking precum over my fingers as I guided it through the hole. I couldn’t believe this was my life, couldn’t believe I was doing this, and as he closed his fist around my aching shaft, the visceral satisfaction of the sensation burst from my throat in a low moan that was a little too loud, judging by the scattered laughter that followed.
“Get it, honey,” someone called, and I froze briefly, muttering a curse. I thought I heard a soft, answering huff of laughter, and then the stranger gave my shaft a harder squeeze before he began working it.
I didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but it felt like magic, like maybe he was using both hands or had suddenly grown an extra set. All I knew was that the pleasure was a relentless assault that never let up. One stroke after the other, smooth and silky and wet, until I was pressed so hard against the wall that a mere slip of physics and I’d become part of it. His hands learned my terrain quickly, the subtle dips and ridges on my cock that made me shiver with need. Then, he slipped on a condom, and the sensation changed entirely. A sizzling hot, tingling tightness spread through me from stem to stern.
“Fuck, oh fuck. Oh fuckkkkkkkk,” I chanted in a whisper, my eyes squeezed shut.
And then it got even better.
The furnace blast of heat that followed made my eyes roll back in my head. My stranger’s lips were firm and ruthless and perfect, from the pressure of his tongue on the underside of my shaft to the way he rubbed over my crown. Even with a condom on, I was breathless in seconds, my body tense and tight like an electrical surge was running rampant through it, sparking in my balls, my gut, beading sweat over my forehead.
Any lingering inhibitions slipped away as I let myself sink into the experience, the stranger’s mouth and tongue worshiping my cock in a perfect primal symphony.
His mouth traveled down my shaft and back up, lips and tongue teasing me with a mix of suction and friction that made my head spin and my body tingle everywhere.
“You like that, don’t you?” The low, smooth drawl of his voice made my hips buck involuntarily.
“Yeah, oh god,” I rasped out. “I’m close.”
I thought I heard him chuckle softly before his mouth resumed its maddeningly slow exploration of my dick. I moaned, arching my body toward him, silently pleading for more. His teeth lightly grazed my shaft, a hint of the roughness along his jaw muted by the condom as my climax built. Pleasure coursed through me like a roaring fire, consuming all my senses.
“Go on,” he urged. “Give it to me.”
His encouragement was all I needed. Pleasure ripped through my body, and the built-up pressure exploded from within, saturating every fiber of my being. Thrusting forward, my hips jerked involuntarily against his mouth as I came.
I gripped the top of the stall to keep from keeling over as I came down from the peak. Aftershocks rippled through me as I tried to catch my breath.
When I recovered, I stepped back, yanking the condom off and tossing it in the trash can next to the toilet.
Once again, I was left with no idea what I was supposed to do next, though I was gonna assume since my stranger returned for a second time that my prior behavior post-blowjob had either been what was expected or maybe even what he wanted, and I wasn’t in any hurry to screw that up. So, I took my time, wiping off my cock before tucking it away in order to give him the opportunity to leave first.
I waited for the inevitable sound of the latch sliding, but he lingered this time. I eased forward a bit but couldn’t see much through the hole.
Then, a flash of movement caught my eye as my mystery man slid his foot toward the wall that divided us, a scrap of paper beneath the toe of his shoe. He lifted his foot, and then came the snick of the latch, his departure.
My stomach swooped as I picked up the paper to find a phone number and, almost illegibly scrawled, “text only.”