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The Stall

By Richard J. Wolf

Jack gazed into his own eyes, letting the water run into the sink. Feeling a knot of tension in his chest, he leveled a disappointed look at himself before sighing and breaking eye contact. He shook his head. He knew he couldn't go on like this, but what could he do? His mind searched for an answer, groping for anything. Anything but the obvious solution. That was too difficult, required too much of a change. He reached down and turned off the water, the final squeaking twist echoing off the white tiled walls. Drawing in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let the hum of the florescent lights blank his mind.

After a moment, Jack looked up at the mirror once again and straightened his tie. He would figure it out, he always did. He traced a wide smile onto his face, nodded and turned toward the exit.

Striding forward, his insides lurched when the door swung toward him. The fabricated smile dropped off his face. A slim, young man about twenty years old in black pants and a black button-down entered the bathroom and held the door.

“Evening, sir,” said the boy.

“Good evening,” he replied and connected with the boy’s large green eyes. Jack's body alighted with a sudden electric awareness. His heart beat at the base of his throat.

“G-good evening,” the boy said again, the skin of his smooth, hairless face flushing an almost imperceptible pink.

Jack knew immediately for certain. His body relaxed, his shoulders slid down his back and the shadow of a smile curved onto his face.

“Close the door.”


Jack approached him, excitement lighting up his chest, a vacant intensity registering in his eyes. He placed his hand on top of the boy's and slowly closed the door.

“S-sir?” the boy said again, swallowing hard. Smelling the soapy fresh scent of detergent rising off the heat of the boy’s motionless body, Jack knew he was already well past the point of being able to stop himself.

“What's your name?”

“Um, Nicholas...Nick.”

“Shut up, Nick.”

Riding the wave of his pumping adrenaline, Jack gave himself over completely to the magnetic pull between them. Sliding Nick's hand along the door and looping his arm around the boy’s waist, Jack locked his mouth on Nick's neck. Almost immediately, he could feel a solid pressure against his hip. This was going to be a very good boy.

“I have...I have to…,” Nick stammered. Jack used his lips to press, suck and tease the bands of muscle running up the boy’s neck. “Fuck,” moaned Nick, melting into Jack’s arms.

Jack kissed and sucked a path up Nick's neck to his mouth and their tongues immediately found a rhythm, chasing and submitting. Each kiss stoking the smoldering energy pulling them together. Jack grabbed the back of the boy’s head and rocked his tongue deeper, while palming and grasping down Nick’s lean frame. Slipping his hand into his back pocket, Jack cupped the curve of the boy’s taut muscle.

The harshly lit, white tiled room crackled with nervous excitement. They both sensed the ease with which the door could open at any time. Their bodies pressed and strained, their heads chasing and angling back and forth. Jack splayed his hand and burrowed his middle finger deep into the fabric of Nick’s pants. The boy shuddered and drew in a breath. Gripping his ass, Jack took control of the boy’s hips and rubbed Nick's fabric-wrapped hardness against his own straining cock.

For a moment, Jack lost himself in ecstasy. The tension in his groin growing higher and higher in pitch, the frequency of thrusts matching the keening note of rising pleasure. He gripped the back of Nick's head harder and pressed the boy's hips deeper into his own. He owned this boy.

Jack disengaged his mouth, their hips still grinding, they stared wildly at each other. Sneering smiles lit up their faces.

“Undo your pants and get in there,” he said, motioning to the stall with a nod.

Nick's gaze drew slowly down and then up. “Yes, sir.”

Jack released Nick and followed the boy’s backward glances to the stall. In synchronous motion, they both wrenched open their belts. Jack fixed his gaze on Nick's shoulders, drew it down his small but solid frame, and then locked on the alternating motion of Nick’s hips. The expression drained from Jack's face and an inaudible rumble issued from his throat.

“Let me see that ass,” Jack said, closing the door behind him and unconsciously licking his lips. Jack reached forward, untucked Nick’s black shirt, and peeled down the boy’s pants. The sight of the smooth, rounded perfection of Nick’s naked ass sent a shock of blood surging into his groin.

“Fuck, boy,” Jack said. Then grabbing Nick's bare waist, he lifted the black shirt and pushed the boy’s shoulders down. Nick supported himself on the chrome fixtures while Jack unzipped and released himself from his underwear. Looking back, the boy's eyes widened for a moment and then narrowed to a hungry focus.

“You want this?” Jack said, displaying his full length.

“Yes, give it to me,” Nick said. Jack licked his palm and wet himself with saliva. Stroking his slick cock, Jack stared down at the curving hood of Nick's upper back. The boy’s muscles carved a network of subtle dips and shadows running down the vaguely crenulated curve of his spine to the boy’s beautiful ass. The subtle tilt and nearly imperceptible sway of Nick’s hips begged to receive him. Jack felt an irresistible shock of desire. With one hand he grabbed and positioned Nick, leaned down and precisely spit a final bit of lubrication.

The moment he placed his hard dick against Nick's tight asshole, he froze. The world outside the stall edged toward him. A wave of anxiety constricted his chest. He shook his head, narrowed his vision and gripped the boy harder. Feeling the heat rising off Nick's naked skin, he smelled the vague earthy notes of the young boy. He pushed past his commitments, his life and the consequences and gave himself over to his desire. The high-pitched electricity of the moment washed everything away.

Jack found the angle and firmly pressed. As the tight resistance gave way, the tip of his cock was enveloped by the boy’s luscious softness. Nick winced, inhaled sharply, then refocused and opened to Jack's slow penetration. Sliding deeper and deeper into the slick pressure, the tip of Jack's dick registered a point of growing, static electric pleasure. Jack’s eyes widened and his mind cleared.

“Fuck, yeah,” he said in a breathy exhale. Just before his hips reached Nick’s smooth, naked warmth, his cock hit a deep, narrowing resistance. With one final thrust, the resistance bloomed and stroked him deeper. Nick flinched, arched his back and bit his forearm. A muffled yelp escaped his lips and bounced off the tiled walls. Jack drove down into the arching of Nick’s back, the entirety of his cock now filling the boy. Nick reached back and caught Jack's hips. All movement paused as they exhaled in unison. Raw pleasure and anticipation coursed through Jack's entire being.

“You like that cock?” he said, teasing his hips side to side and smirking.

“Yes, sir,” Nick said, gasping and turning back. Jack kissed the boy’s lusty grimace and as their tongues intertwined, Nick melted into pleading submission. Jack began rhythmically undulating in and out. The movement building from a kneading pulsation to a pounding stroke. With each thrust, the energy between them tingled and expanded. Nick’s body relaxed and enlivened. Anticipating Jack’s movement, he drove back against the rhythm.

The energy, pulsing higher and higher, became whole, sustained and independent of Jack's individual movements. Jack played within the ecstasy, varying the depth and intensity of his strokes. Reading the boy’s rhythm and movement, he found the sweetest notes of mutual pleasure and then drove towards them. He brought Nick’s energy up, and up, letting the boy ride and direct him.

Then grabbing Nick's waist, he took control. Immobilizing the boy’s hips, he looked down, and riding the wave of a single inhalation, slowly, deliberately, he withdrew his rock hard dick. When he saw the edge of the head emerge, he plunged the entirety of his cock into the boy's hungry flesh. Nick bucked and reared up, the air forced from his lungs. Seeing the boy’s uncontrollable spasms, Jack’s body was overtaken by a thoughtless animal frenzy. His arms encircled him, and he began groping and fucking, and kissing the boy’s neck and back. As he gripped and caressed the boy's flat stomach, Nick's stiff cock slapped against his hand. Jack grabbed and stroked Nick’s dick while he drilled the boy’s ass. Each penetrating blow and synchronous stroke eliciting choked bursts of grateful tones from the bottom of Nick's throat.

Just as the orgazmic energy was about to peak, they both froze. The metallic click of the door grabbed their attention and turned both of their heads. The high pitched whine of the swinging door cut through the silence. Struggling to remain still, Jack’s constricted breath strained against his chest and thundered in his ears. He watched a bead of sweat run down his nose and fall onto the furrowed middle of Nick's back. After a long moment, the door clicked closed.


A sober vision of irrevocable changes to life outside the stall spiked into his mind. He shook the sweat off his face and the thoughts out of his head.

Waiting, bodies flexed and tense, Jack's dick, completely enveloped within Nick’s flesh, pulsed with pleasure with the motion of each restricted breath. His eyes rolled back as Nick teased his hips against him in rebellious movements too small to see.

After another moment, they relaxed and exhaled forcefully. “It was just the women's room,” Nick said breathlessly. “Fuck me harder.”

A sneering smile alighted Jack’s face. Fighting the deep urge to laugh, Jack grabbed Nick by the shoulders and drove deep into the boy. Nick responded by planting both feet solidly on the tiled floor and curving the bottom of his spine to its limit. Jack tilted his hips and pumped his considerable length in and out of Nick's ass.

As he pounded his huge cock deeper and deeper, the slapping of their flesh reverberated all around them. The pleasure ramping up and up, he gripped Nick's shoulders harder and drove his hips with savage abandon. The searing, high-pitched ecstasy raced toward its peak, and when the energy was just about to tip, he definitively thrust himself deep inside the boy. A fluttering grip clenched the base of his dick as Nick unloaded three ropey white bursts into the toilet. Jack clapped his hand over Nick's mouth and silenced the boy’s spastic cries. Jack's expression froze, his eyebrows lifted, his face contorted into a silent, anguished scream, and as he unloaded into the boy's ass, the euphoric convulsions deep within him pulsed white hot pleasure throughout his entire being. They both gasped, choked and moaned. He rested his sweaty forehead on Nick’s back and, clutching the lean trembling boy, Jack affectionately drove the last spasming releases deep inside of him.

Tenderly, delighting in Nick’s rapturous softness, Jack pumped slower and slower, carefully setting the buzzing ecstasy down and down until they were both motionless.

Jack’s awareness expanded. The ambient hum of the the room filling his ears, he slid himself slowly out of Nick. They both simultaneous exhaled and then began to chuckle from the bottom of their abdomens. Nick looked back at him.

“Holy shit,” the boy said, his face expressionless from disbelief. “That was so fucking hot.”

“You’re a good boy,” Jack said, affectionately slapping Nick’s ass. They both pulled their clothes back into place, and Nick spun around and looked up at him.

“I’ve never cum without touching myself before. Oh, my god that was so hot. You’re so hot,” Nick said, a lopsided smile alighting his face. “What’s your name?”

Jack paused as the buzzing electricity slowly dissipated. A deep fatigue entered him, allowing a wave of prickling anxiety to rise from the ashes of the orgasm. Jack's mind sprung back to life and immediately started spinning. He glanced in the direction of the door. He had been gone too long, but he knew exactly how to handle it. Baring down, he turned his fears into resolve, reframed and blocked. He wrested his awareness back to the moment, smoothed his face into a stern mask and set his shoulders forward.

“Listen, boy,” he said, grabbing Nick by the neck and sitting him down on the toilet. “You want this dick again?” he said, buckling his belt.

“Um, yes,” Nick said, nodding. “Definitely.”

Jack stared at him and slowly shook his head. “Then this didn’t happen.”


“You want to be my boy?”


“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you have to be a good boy.”

“Um, ok, sir.”

“You tell anyone about this, it can't happen again, got it?” Jack said. Nick nodded furiously. “But if you're a good boy and keep this secret,” he said leaning down and gripping him. “Your ass is mine,” Jack said, then pausing and looking directly into Nick’s wide green eyes. “This was nothing.”

“Fuck,” Nick said, clearly believing every word.

“What’s your number?” Jack said, withdrawing his phone and pretending to access his contacts.

“Um, it's…,” Nick stammered and then rattled off his phone number. “It’s Nick Taylor.”

“Shut up, Nick,” Jack said, winking at him. “I’ll call you.”

Jack locked his lips around Nick's mouth and kissed him deeply. Just as a soft moan escaped the boy, he disengaged, spun around, walked directly to the mirror, pulled and adjusted his clothes, smoothed his hair, and strode out of the bathroom.

Stepping into the long, dim hallway, Jack consciously relaxed his shoulders and pulled at his cuffs. He walked slowly toward the clinking din of the restaurant’s dining room, silently encouraging himself. Exiting the hallway, he immediately locked eyes with Scott, who was sitting at a small table on the opposite side of the room. He swiveled his head and pretended that something caught his attention by the kitchen and began rehearsing his story. Breathing deeply, he casually strolled across the hardwood floor, weaving his way between the well-dressed diners.

“Are you feeling ok?” Scott said as Jack approached the table.

“Yeah, I'm so sorry. I had to take a call from work. They wanted me to travel again,” he said, breaking eye contact. “I told them no.” He slipped his legs under the white table cloth and took a seat.

“You got up so quickly, I thought maybe you were sick,” Scott said, his voice flatter than normal.

“Everything's fine, don't worry,” Jack said, looking down and distracting himself with the small, burgundy stain on his empty place setting. Unfolding and placing his napkin on his leg, he looked up to find a strange expression on Scott's face. He became instantly self-conscious of his clothes. Trying, without looking, to intuit any part of his suit that was askew.

“I thought you didn’t feel good, so I-,” Scott said, then stopped and shook his head. He brushed his blond hair out of his face and fixed Jack an uncharacteristic look.

“Is everything ok?” asked Jack.

Scott's face crumbled into an anguished grimace. Jack’s mind flashed to the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. He looked around the room assessing their distance from the other diners within earshot. A layer of cold sweat appeared all over his skin.

Scott shook himself, recentered and focused on Jack. “We've been together for a long time,” Scott said but then began to tear up. “I can't believe this…”

“What's wrong?” Jack said. A single bead of sweat ran down his spine and pooled at his lower back.

“I'm just going to say it,” Scott said to himself.

Jack swallowed hard and unconsciously braced his hands on his legs.

“I can explain-” Jack began.

“Jack, will you marry me?” Scott blurted out.

Jack froze. Dual waves of relief and intense shame washed over him. Fighting the urge to turn away, he looked at Scott and a sweet sadness sunk his chest. Images of their life flooded his mind. Sundays on the couch. Their faces close but not touching in the dark. Wrapping his arms around Scott's waist as he did the dishes. Jack exhaled and felt the energy bleed down his body in a current of despair.

Time stopped. His mind raced, trying to find a solution. He reached deep within himself and focused. His network of disparate thoughts and motivations cohered and found connection and structure. He told himself that this was perfect. If he hadn't rushed away from the table and gone to the bathroom, he would have confessed and lost everything. The proposal was what he needed. Scott was what he wanted. The humid, lusty memory of the stall tried to push into his consciousness, but he forced it down and away. He could do it. He could change. He looked at Scott, beautiful, kind, amazing Scott.

“Well, what do you say?” Scott said, holding up a gold ring, his voice tight.

“Yes, of course,” Jack said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “I love you more than anything.”

A look of delight jumped onto Scott's face as he motioned for the waiter. Jack looked at the floor and focused. The new Jack would start now. He exhaled deliberately, equal parts relieved and scared. The pop of the champagne brought his focus outside of himself once again. He looked up at Scott's beaming face chattering to the waiter who was filling their glasses. Jack consciously relaxed his expression.

“Oh, my god, I need a drink. I can’t believe how nervous I was,” Scott said, raising his glass. “Cheers to my fiancé.”


Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a busboy dressed all in black place a silver bucket next to their table and crunch the bottle into the ice. He felt heat invade his cheeks. In his peripheral vision, he could see clearly that the busboy was Nick. Jack forcibly widened his smile as Scott grabbed his hand across the table and slid the ring onto his finger.

“I love you so much,” Scott said, grabbing and kissing his hands. Nick stared at him from behind Scott's head, but Jack kept a steady gaze on Scott, his salvation, his only hope to be the man he needed to be. Clinking their glasses together, he continued to fight the powerful urge to divert his focus.

Scott, overwhelmed by happiness, looked up to the heavens and shook his head. In that instant, Jack’s resolve broke and his attention flicked to Nick’s lean form and sparkling green eyes. Lust, diminished but no less insistent, traced a tiny, unconscious sneer onto his face. For a split second, he was unable to wrest himself away. Pressure gripped his chest. At the very last moment, he disengaged and reconnected with Scott's loving gaze. As Jack looked at his new fiancé, a tear pooled and flowed out of the corner of his smiling eyes, dropping onto the dry, gauzy white precum stain on his lap.

The End

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