Genres: Gay, GLBT
Editor(s): James L. Wolf
Cover Designer(s): D.M. Atkins
Cover Art Credits:
Production Editor(s): Erika L. Firanc
Length: Short Story (9,000 Words)
Publication Date: December 13, 2013
Serialization Date: April 2, 2017
Archive(d) on April 23, 2017
Tags: bdsm, dirty, m/m, Short Story
Content Labels (What they are and why we use them)
It’s not like I have a chance with him, Simon thought. Rick was probably, likely, straight, but the probability of something happening between them was not the motivation of his concern for Rick’s feelings. It was the possibility.
“Thank you,” Simon said. He caught the key ring in his hands and watched as Rick pulled the loose Dickies up onto his hips again. He noticed the slight swell of his crotch, the lump that shifted down his left leg as he dropped the Lexus’ hood back into place and moved back to the pump. Simon turned and walked around the back of the building to the bathroom. He unlocked the door and went in. It was small. There were two dirt-stained sinks ahead of him, with smoky mirrors above each. Oily fingerprints marred the glass surface. To the right were two toilet stalls. He chose one and felt his bowels churn, which meant he had to sit. He hated sitting on public toilets, especially one this dirty, but he was two hours from home and it wouldn’t wait. Simon lined the seat with toilet paper, then pulled his pants and underwear down and gently sat on the paper.
The wall separating the stalls was filled with graffiti.
Suck my cock!
For a good time call….
Jane M. takes it up the ass and Jeffrey Dahmer burns in hell were some of the witticisms left by previous shithouse poets.
There was something else in the wall as well: a hole about waist-high that could easily swallow Simon’s fist. He glanced through the portal and saw the toilet on the other side.
It was a glory hole. Simon chuckled under his breath. Danny would be thrilled to find this, he thought.
The hand carved addition in the wall slightly disturbed him, the thought of what went on here, and yet, he felt a rush of excitement in his belly as well. Scenarios from the Falcon videos he and Peter had rented came back to him. Hard muscled men engaging in anonymous sex that would be risky in the real world, but exciting in the make believe world of porn. He realized that rarely did a porn movie show a committed couple making love; most were strangers meeting for the first time by swallowing each other’s cocks. Was porn programming gay men to act out these scenes, he often wondered, or were men naturally promiscuous and only restricted to relationships because society directed people in that direction?
He finished, flushed. Just then the restroom door opened and someone walked in. The newcomer entered the stall next to Simon’s and he could hear the rustling of clothing, the familiar rasp of a zipper being undone. He glanced through the hole and saw blue Dickies hanging from thin hips slide down a pair of pale, hairy legs. A set of white briefs that had become gray with age and large dark yellow piss stains on the front, blushed dully in the dim light of the other stall. A large bulge slowly rose from the dirty cloth like a time-elapsed film of a volcano forming on a small island. It was Rick on the other side and he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to do anything but massage himself. He didn’t free himself to urinate and if there was ever an instance when the real world could resemble a cruising scene in a porn video, it was now. Simon’s throat became as dry as the Sahara. His heart banged in his chest like it was trying to get out.
He watched as Rick slid a greasy hand over his basket and massaged it, toying with his balls until the bulge began to grow too large for his briefs to hold it in.
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