Men's Room


The camera angle doesn't reveal this new girl's face, but Joanie can tell it's another Saint Barnaby's girl by the plaid uniform skirt and the white knee socks. This new girl stands behind the girl on her knees, running her fingers lovingly through the kneeling girl's hair.

The girl giving head stops tending to the boy's needs and glances back towards her friend. Joanie believes she sees something that suggests doubt. Reluctance. This impression might have come from the stiff angle of the girl's neck as she pulls away from the boy. Or maybe from the hand that she brings first to her lips, without so much as a single caress for the wet penis, newly vacated from her mouth. Or it could be the eagerness with which the girl on her knees seeks out her friend's gaze, even as a boy's erection bobs in her face. Or maybe Joanie just thinks cold feet because of the scene itself: only someone in danger of losing their nerve would need a friend to stand behind them and stroke their hair as they satisfy a boy with their mouth.

The boy grabs himself and wags his cock. He's impatient.

The friend lowers her head, the light changes, and her identity is revealed: This girl is Marcy Storm. Marcy is looking up toward the boy, grinning slyly even as she whispers in the ear of the girl on her knees. Finding Marcy involved in something like this is not surprising. Marcy spends a lot of time at Joanie's house, hanging out with Tammy, Joanie's twin sister. Last summer Marcy's father ran off, leaving Marcy and her mom on their own. And shortly after that, both Marcy and Tammy were busted for shoplifting.

Joanie dons her headphones, but the video has no audio track. Marcy continues stroking the anonymous girl's her head, smoothing her hair. The girl looks up at the boy, and then puts her mouth back on his penis.

Mr. Manley grinds his groin into Joanie's bottom, but she refuses to open her eyes. She can hear the men speaking to one another in the bathroom, but their faint voices seem to echo from faraway.

Joanie notices something familiar about the girl giving head. Her face is still impossible to identify, but something about the way her hair falls, the way she holds her head.

A feeling of dread rises in Joanie's gut.

The people in the video change positions. The girl giving head uses the back of her hand to wipe her mouth. The boy's erection looms into the frame. As the boys turns his torso, the light changes, and Joanie sees the face of the anonymous girl on her knees.

Her sister Tammy is the one sucking cock.

Mr. Manley reach between Joanie's legs, fondling her clitoris. An exquisite pleasure washes over her, but still she keeps her eyes shut. She watches the final reel playing out in her mind.

Tammy takes the boy's penis back into her mouth. Raising her hands, Tammy lets them hover at her chest for a moment, then she rests them both on the boy's thighs. She submits.

Tammy lets the boy fuck her mouth.

Marcy gathers Tammy's hair, pulling it back as the boy's hands come to rest on the crown of her head. He is rocking his hips. His thick penis slipping into her mouth, then coming back out again, wet and slick.

Tammy suddenly turns her face toward the camera, a string of spit connecting her bottom lip with the boy's penis. Her mouth is wide open in a big, silent wail.

A long rope of cum--the off-white color of vanilla ice cream--appears on Tammy's forehead and in her hair.

Tammy's mouth is wide open and some of the semen undoubtedly ends up on her tongue, because she quickly closes her mouth--her gag reflex forcing her to swallow--and then a grim look appears on her face. When she realizes what she has swallowed, her mouth opens again in another silent, helpless wail. She turns her head to her friend and fresh dots of cum appear in dribbles on her cheek. The boy splashes more of his cum on her jaw and her neck.

Marcy wipes the cum from Tammy's face with her fingers. Joanie watches Marcy address both the boy and the girl. First she looks at the boy, a playfully, chastising look on her face. Then, she turns to Tammy, gently tut-tutting words of comfort.

Tammy soon calms herself.

She takes the boy's penis, slightly diminished now, back into her mouth. As Tammy suckles the boy, the camera pulls back. Rides up the boy's hips, past his chest. Joanie knows what is coming. She has relived this moment so many times in the last few weeks, she can already feel the bile gathering at the back of her throat.

Of course, the boy is her boyfriend: It's Roger Bones.

When he sees the camera lens pointing at his face, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. He smiles sadly, extends his hand over the lens and the picture goes black.

Joanie Salinger. Joanie Salinger.

Sister Miriam is repeating Joanie's name, a stern look on her face, only it sounds as if she is far away. Joanie realizes she still has the headphones on, covering her ears. She fumbles to close the video. Hide. Hide what she just watched. Hide her feelings. Hide it all. Stuff it all down deep inside. Her hands feel as if they are moving through thick honey but finally she manages to pull the headset from her ears.

Joanie Salink-ker. Joanie Salink-ker.

The voice still sounds far away and somehow wrong. Joanie is confused. Is she still wearing the headphones?

"Joanie Salink-ker?" she hears. "Is dat you, Joanie?"

The voice is no longer Sister Miriam's, but someone else's. It's a familiar voice, a man's voice.

Joanie opens her eyes.

She can feel the porcelain bowl sticking to her cheek as she raises her head. Her stomach does a lazy roll. The man who said her name laughs good naturedly.

"It diz you," he says. "Joanie Salink-ker."

With dread, Joanie turns her head.

She is eye level with the groin of the man standing next to her. His pants are unzipped. He has his penis in his hand, pointing it into the urinal, but he isn't urinating. He's just standing there, with his dick in his hand.

Joanie cranes her neck up.

The man is smiling. He's got a wide face and a flat nose. He wears his steel grey hair clipped short, and has a thick, muscular frame. He must be close to fifty. His name is Emil Bogdon, but everyone just calls him Bogdon. He's a security guard at the Metro Mall, and he often comes to Joanie's father's store to buy pickled pig's feet from the big jar of brine that sits on the counter.

Joanie is breathing heavily, her mouth open.

Mr. Manley still has his hand between her legs, rubbing her clitoris. It's not an unpleasant feeling, but she's bordering on sensory overload as she tries to navigate this meeting with Bogdon.

Joanie raises herself. Her hands go to the polished valve atop the urinal. She licks her lips. Tries to think of something to say.

Bogdon smiles. Glances at Mr. Manley.

"Joanie," Mr. Manley whispers. He has stopped toying with her clitoris.

"Joanie," he repeats, his voice as soft as a kiss.

He slows his strokes, then stops, his penis filling her.

Joanie turns her head. Mr. Manley has her phone pointed at her face. When she realizes he is videotaping her, Joanie shakes her head. She laughs. It occurs to her that her laughter is exactly the reaction that every boy has had when the camera comes out. She is just like every other boy she has ever met. She blushes involuntarily and then quickly looks away.

Joanie," Mr. Manley whispers. "Will you suck Bogdon's cock?"

Joanie snorts. She grins and shakes her head, more at the baldness of the request and the fact that it's being recorded, than from any desire to preserve her modesty. She looks at the floor, her arms hooked over the valve.

"He's my friend," Mr. Manley says. He grinds his cock into her. She can hear soft wet noises coming from between her legs. She purses her lips. Moans a little.

"Suck his dick," Mr. Manley says softly.

Joanie glances at Bogdon. He is grinning, still holding his cock in his hand. His tight t-shirt hugs his body. He has powerful arms, a big chest.

Turning back to Mr. Manley, Joanie sighs. She looks into her camera and offers a wan smile.

"Maybe," she whispers. Because her mouth is so dry, her voice cracks.

She bites her lip.

Mr. Manley quietly exalts. He chuckles.

Bogdon laughs pleasantly. He sighs and turns his head to the wall in front of him. He starts to urinate loudly. Mr. Manley resumes his thrusts. He moves gentle and slow, drawing it out. Making it last. Joanie hears more wet sounds coming from between her legs, the slap of his groin on her bottom. She grinds her bottom back into Mr. Manley, trying to increase her pleasure before the old man finishes.

Bogdon flushes the urinal, and then turns toward Joanie, his fly still open.

His penis is long and soft and uncut. He holds it in one of his large hands and grins. He raises his t-shirt, showing off a flat stomach covered with a soft wash of dark hair, all tight and curly and dusted with snow.

Joanie sees a drop of something on the end of his penis. She glances up.

Bogdon shakes his dick and the drop disappears. He pulls his foreskin back, revealing the helmeted head. He has a thick cock, soft now and only just becoming hard, but still clearly a tool. As he fondles himself, she watches his cock become a thick length of blood sausage, red and strong, jutting from his groin.

Joanie finds herself drawn to Bogdon in an odd, helpless way.

At her father's store, Joanie had seen Bogdon many times. He liked to stop and chat on his rounds. He'd once found her sitting on Roger's lap, necking in an out of the way alcove of the Metro Mall. Bogdon had winked, raised his hand and moved his fingers in a childlike wave. He'd seemed sweet. She'd never thought of him as particularly interesting, certainly not sexy. But now she can't seem to pull her eyes from the thick cock in his hand.

"You can do it," Mr. Manley whispers. "Suck his dick."

Bogdon has another drop of moisture on the tip of his cock. He smears it over the head of his penis this time, making the skin softly glow as if it were dipped in butter. With one last look back at Mr. Manley for encouragement, Joanie leans toward Bogdon, closing her eyes. Tilting her head, she scoops his cock into her mouth.

He is warm. Salty. She puts her hands on his thighs and lets him take her weight. His cock fills her mouth and Bogdon sighs.

Joanie has to change her position to work on Bogdon's cock. As Mr. Manley shuffles around to accommodate her movements, Joanie realizes that--with a cock in her mouth and another between her legs--her body is the lynchpin holding the three of them together. For the first time in her life, she has two cocks in her at the same time.

Joanie is pulling a train.

Mr. Manley stops fondling her breasts and even moving his hips. He watches Joanie wash Bogdon's cock with her tongue and work it with her hands. For a few minutes, the only sounds are wet noises coming from Joanie's mouth. Fully erect, Bogdon's cock is long and proud, a sight to behold--a great clipped head, attached to a long shaft that twists a few degrees to the right, like a comet turning as it glides through space.

"You boyfriend," Bogdon says. "He here? Roger at basketball game tonight?"

Mr. Manley says: "Her boyfriend is the game tonight."

Joanie's eyes twinkle. She removes Bogdon's wet cock from her mouth, lowers her head and laughs. Everyone laughs. Joanie uses her fist to wipe the saliva from her lips.

"Switch?" Bogdon asks Mr. Manley. Looking toward Joanie's bottom, Bogdon nods his intentions. He is holding his thick cock in his hand. "We take turns," he says, pressing his lips into a thin smile.

"You can have a shot," Mr. Manley says. "Hell, I don't mind."

Joanie vaguely grasps that the men have left her out of the process of deciding who will take her next and how, but she doesn't mind. It feels good to turn it all over, allow someone else to take the lead.

Mr. Manley insists Joanie remain bent over as he switches places with Bogdon. He holds his cock at its base and presses Joanie's head to his abdomen. The head of his cock waves lazily near her face. Bogdon moves behind her.

Holding onto his hips for balance, Joanie smiles up at Mr. Manley. Kisses his cock, waits for Bogdon to mount her.

When she feels Bogdon slides his cock inside her, Joanie groans. She stands bent over with her mouth agape. The difference between Mr. Manley and Bogdon astonishes her--she feels so full. Bogdon begins to swing his cock in and out of her, using long strokes that fill her completely. He ends each stroke with his groin lightly kissing her bottom.

Joanie's pussy is making loud sloppy noises. She wonders if Mr. Manley didn't quietly come inside of her during his turn. Her bottom is soaked. She can't quite focus enough to give Mr. Manley head or do much anything but hold on. Pressing her sweaty head into his abdomen, Joanie screws her eyes shut. Enjoys the ride.

Joanie orgasms, girting her teeth and moaning loudly. The muscles in her groin clamp down on Bogdon's cock, and her body rides wave after wave of pleasure. Her pleasure trips Bogdon's own orgasm and he groans. Joanie can feel him filling her pussy with his old man cum. When he finishes, he laughs. Sighs.

Joanie wants to rest, but Mr. Manley is petting her head, and she feels obligated to make him come. Joanie takes his cock in her hand and strokes him. Licks him. She can taste her own juice on his dick. When Bogdon slips his cock out of her, Joanie is grateful for the extra mobility. She squats in front of Mr. Manley, slanting her knees out in front of her. She lifts Mr. Manley's cock high and lowers her head to lick his balls. She runs the flat of her tongue along the bottom of his shaft. Rubs the length of his cock.

Mr. Manley takes his dick from her.

He strokes himself. Resting his hand on her head, he tilts her face up. Joanie knows what will come next--Mr. Manley is going to come on her face! She wants it. Wants to feel his warm cum. Taste her reward. Placing her hands on Mr. Manley's hips to steady herself, she watches as his fist slides along his cock. Joanie hears Bogdon say something, but she doesn't move her head. Mr. Manley glances up for a second, but he keeps stroking his cock.

Joanie hears the bathroom door sigh.

Her heart is thumping in her ears. Something wet is dripping from between her legs. She wonders what it is, then realizes that Bogdon's cum is draining from her pussy, even as she is waiting for Mr. Manley to splash more on her face. Another deliciously warm wave of forbidden pleasure washes over her.

Joanie opens her mouth a tiny bit and moans. She closes her mouth to swallow, and then opens it again. This time she opens it wide. Extends her tongue.

She waits. Anticipates the taste of his semen.

Mr. Manley groans. Joanie closes her eyes, but she doesn't feel anything on her face or in her mouth. Opening her eyes, she sees he's still stroking himself. He moans again, and then the cum bubbles out from the head of his cock and dribbles down his shaft, covering his fist. Some of his cream drips onto the tiles between her legs and onto her blouse.

Joanie giggles. He did come earlier, inside her. Mr. Manley looks disappointed with himself. He shakes his cock and some of his cum dribbles onto her face. With a lusty sigh, he wipes the head of his penis on her chin.

As Joanie clambers to her feet, she spies a small puddle of cum on the floor in the place where she just squatted. She looks for Bogdon, but he is already gone.

Mr. Manley fishes her panties out of the urinal. Balling her undies into his fist, he gives them a mighty squeeze. Liquid run from between his fingers. He shakes his fist into the bowl--once, twice. The spray hits the back of the bowl.

"Here," Mr. Manley says. "Your panties." He says this in that firm, fatherly voice that Joanie has such difficulty refusing.

She tries to politely decline, but Mr. Manley insists. He steps to her, puts his hand on the back of her neck, and then uses her damp panties to mop his cum from her cheeks and chin. He swabs her whole face, her blue bangs.

Joanie didn't expect this. She thinks what he's doing is disgusting, but it turns her on to submit to him one more time, and she feels a satisfying warmth spread through her body. She stands stock still and mewls through tightly sealed lips.

She waits for him to finish.

When he's done, he takes her hand. He puts her moist panties into her palm and then closes her small fist around them with both of his hands. Holding her hand in both of his own, he looks into her eyes. "Put them on, Sweetie," he says.

Joanie exhales noisily, already knowing she will do whatever he asks.

"You can do it." he whispers.

She takes the waistband of panties in her hands. Stepping into the wet underwear, she pulls them up, high on her waist, raising her skirt. As she tugs them on, she watches him. He's got that serious look on his face men get just before they come.

As she finishes, he exhales. He looks suddenly relieved and grins. Joanie wonders if maybe he just came again, this time in his pants.

Joanie can feel the sodden cotton of her panties, clammy against her skin. The idea of pulling on the wet underthings for him was more satisfying than actual having them on. She holds the hem of her uniform skirt out a little, away from her bottom. As she tries to determine how best to save her uniform, he runs his hands over her ass, pressing the material of her skirt against the wet, ruined panties.

She shakes her head. Mr. Manley is such an asshole. She knows it now, and it no longer frightens her, if it ever did. It's her own needs, she realizes, that frighten her most.


The door bursts open with a dull boom. Roger steps into the bathroom, Moe on his heels. Joanie feels a stone drop into her tummy. Once again she is humiliated, but she feels relieved they didn't arrive just ten minutes earlier. Mr. Manley turns to face the boys. If he feels any guilt or embarrassment, he doesn't show it. He seems confident, completely at ease.

"Roger," Mr. Manley says. He laughs. Folds his arms across his chest. Tilts his head.

"Fuck you," Roger says. He glares at Joanie, then back at Mr. Manley.

"Motherfucker," Roger hisses.

Mr. Manley smiles and shakes his head. "Oh, Roger," he mutters. "Roger, Roger, Roger . . . "

The two stand toe to toe. Mr. Manley has his back to Joanie, but she can see he isn't afraid. He uncrosses his arms, puts his hands on his hips, and engages with both boys. Mr. Manley starts speaking in a low voice, and Joanie can't make out much of what he's saying.

Roger glares at the tile floor. He is either ignoring Mr. Manley or doing his best to appear as if he isn't listening. He doesn't do anything. He just stands there looking pissed off. Mr. Manley is using his hands to explain something. He keeps his voice low, a calm expression on his face. Joanie wonders how many times Mr. Manley has explained something like this in the past. A chill makes her shoulders quiver.

Moe sidesteps past Mr. Manley and sidles up next to her.

"You okay?" Moe asks.

Joanie keeps her eyes on the others. Roger's face is red, as if he's about to pop. He glares at her and she smiles, more to let him know she can't be intimidated than any desire to cozy up to him. Moe quickly averts his eyes, though he still refuses to look at Mr. Manley's face.

Moe leans down and kisses Joanie softly on her cheek. Joanie grins, aware that he just kissed her on a cheek Mr. Manley recently swabbed with another man's pee. She looks at Moe but says nothing. He's got those warm brown eyes, full lips, a delicious looking boy.

He runs his tongue across those lips.

"Did you . . ." Moe pauses. He cuts his eyes to Mr. Manley. "Did you two . . ."

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