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The Stall

The Stall

My boss is yammering on and on about the latest earnings report like I give two fucks. The conference room is stuffy and crowded with coworkers who are as fidgety as I am.

Then, I feel it.

My phone is set to vibrate, and it does, right against my crotch. Discreetly wriggling the slippery device from my pants pocket isn’t easy, but I’m so fucking bored I’ll take any diversion.

“I like that dick pic you sent me this morning, want to see how much?”

My thumbs fly. “Yes, damn you.”

When the photo comes into focus, I grit my teeth. Red boxer briefs worn thin from laundering, so thin, I can see the outline of his erection and the damp spot his pre-come has left.

“Remember the last time I wore these?”

 Hell yeah, I remember. I licked his cock through those raggedy underpants until they were translucent from my saliva.

“Tease,” I text back.

“You want more, do you?”

Sometimes, I feel like his goddamn sex toy. I like that. I like that a whole fucking lot. Maybe not so much in the middle of a work meeting, but his teasing, no, make that his tormenting, gets me hot like nothing else. My thumbs practically crush the screen.

“YES!”

“Here it comes.”

Fuck. Naked cock. Glorious naked cock, veins bulging, crown wet, I can almost taste him. My engine revs and my balls feel like they weigh five pounds each. I am just about to type “YUMMY!” when I hear my name. Double fuck. I almost forgot. I have to present something to the group.

“One second,” I say to my boss.

I shove my phone into my pocket and button my suit jacket. Praying like hell that the bulge in my pants is sufficiently covered, I stroll to the front of the room. In a blink, I’m 15 again, walking around with a book in front of my crotch, hiding my erection from the rest of my freshman class.

The phone vibrates, tingling my balls and distracting me from my presentation. I can feel sweat trickling down between my shoulders and my voice cracks like I’m going through puberty again.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

I try not to think about what he’s sending me, but I live for the man’s cock. In my mouth, up my ass, between my fingers, somehow I manage to push the thoughts away and finish. My boss calls for a brief intermission and I turn into a gazelle, gracefully dodging coworkers while I head towards the men’s room.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

My balls are heavier and so is my breathing. I lock the stall, face the toilet and unzip. After freeing my eager cock, I hit speed dial.

“Let me guess, you’re in the little boys room.”

“Talk to me,” I say in a harsh whisper while my other hand tugs. “I’ve got five minutes.”

“You want me to talk dirty?” Brian. What an ass.

Will Brian help Nathan in his time of need? You can read the rest of this story on Radish Fiction, the app for readers.

Want more wanking? Of course you do…

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