South Street Nine

The officer viciously wrenched down the boy's pants, the force of the yank made his now bare bottom jiggle. The boy flushed pink and lowered his head in embarrassment, trying to hide his face. The cop grinned wickedly and—eyes fixed on his prize—mouthed something in a provocative way before giving one cheek a firm squeeze. His ass filled his hand to the brim, so ample was he. I began to fantasize an encounter with an officer as handsome as the one before me, groping my ass just as greedily, massaging it just as hungrily...

I found my hand rubbing the length of my stiff cock under the veil of my pants, and I quickly withdrew into my pocket, glancing around the lobby to see if anyone else had seen me. It was empty, though the bedrooms were clearly not. I worried about my face. It was burning up, and I was afraid that it might deceive me to anyone who speculated what I was doing. In a fret, I promptly headed for the clearly marked restroom on the northern wall.

I pushed through the door to find a spacious room that hosted the basics of a men's bathroom. The spotless tiles and bright florescent light made everything appear sterile. Upon entering, though, my brisk pace collapsed into an uneasy and hesitant gait. A soft moaning echoed through the room. I tensed a little, not wanting to intrude on anyone's encounter. I managed to slink my way to the nearest sink, twist on the faucet, and immerse my hands into the cool flowing water. The lusty sighs continued to hang in the air and over the rush of the tap. I tried to focus on the dilemma of my reddening face, watching the clear liquid pool into my cupped hands. The sinks all shared one mirror that rose from the top of the faucets and almost to the ceiling, reflecting all the stalls behind them and a glimpse of the urinals in the farthest corner. The mirror rose slightly from the wall at a tilt, enabling the viewer to see more of their lower half and the edge of the basin. I glanced up to take a view of my face, only to see it ripen scarlet.

Reflected behind me in a stall whose door was swung wide open was a plump man with a boyish face and rosy complexion, pressed against the stall and slowly pumping his hips into it. A lacy black pair of panties laid wrapped around the heels of his sultry stilettos, and with one hand he hoisted up the skirt of his short, frilly maid's costume, revealing his pink, shapely rump. The wall he was thrusting into led to another stall, its door only slightly ajar, the only thing in sight was a pair of scruffy, dirtied tennis shoes and ashen ankles.

I splashed the water on my face, the sharp chill helping to bring back my paleness, though the combat with color began once again, as—from the corner of my eye—I saw the full-figured maid ogling me. For whatever reason, I made brief eye contact with him through the mirror, and he read my conflicting expression. His eyes were hazed with the heat of his own passionate breaths. He took a finger and pressed it to his lips as he cooed cutely, then slowly passed his tongue over it in an extremely lewd fashion. I abruptly broke away, stiffly walking over to the paper towel dispenser that was so favorably out of his sight. With each step I took, his effeminate whimpers and gasps swelled in sound. I wiped my hands dry and left with the dying tones of seduction in my ears and the thickening sensation of arousal in my pants.

I sat on one of the couches, my hand over my now very prominent bulge, screening it from view of anyone who decided to waltz in and notice. If I had decided to walk home then, I would have put myself through the torture of having my erection grind against the rough fabric of my pants for several long minutes. So far, my impression of South Street Nine was a fuck fest for the horny and strange. I snatched a pillow and placed it over my lap, concealing my hand. I stared at its plainness for a moment, the muffled din of the music and masses downstairs rising from beneath my feet.I was strange.I was horny—most definitely! So then, why was it that I felt like an outcast? I probably watched the same porn as the men I had encountered here, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Why was it that when I finally get to witness the very things that make me lust, I scurry away in a huff? I couldn't be so shy as to deny myself my first experience, right?Fuck it, I thought.Everyone else here is doing it, so I might as well...

I unbuckled the belt to my trousers and worked to undo the buttons. Successfully loosening them, I pushed my thumb down on my zipper's slide until it reached the base of my groin. Still covered by my briefs, my rigid cock fell free of the restrictiveness of my pants. It had been afflicted by these deep, burning sensations all throughout the night, and finally it would get its pleasure.

Trousers and underwear low on my hips, I had only but touched it when something gripped me.

"Hey there," sang a rich voice. I flinched, yanking my hand from under the cushion to clutch my knee, looking up perturbed to a fetching man with broad features and fair hair. He tapped his fingers over my shoulder in short, sporadic rhythms as he smiled coolly.

"What are you doing all alone out here, hmm?"

I bit my lip. His eyes glanced at the pillow. I felt a heat rise to my ears, and I knew my face was giving me away.

"I... was just sitting." I forced a laugh at the end of my questionable response, almost choking on it. He at least was a good sport and chuckled with me, never breaking eye contact.

His fingertips trickled down my arm.

"You don't mind if I sit next to you, do you?" It was less of a question and more of a selfish declaration. He slipped around the couch and plopped down next to me before I could stammer out an answer. I attempted to slide my hand discretely under the cushion, but then stopped myself as he leaned closer to me, flopping one hand over the couch and the other on his knee. His loose manner made me more apprehensive than before.

"So, you do business?" he asked, referring to my white-collar attire. I nodded, perhaps a bit too quickly. He lifted his eyebrows in intrigue, his lips still curved in an alluring smile. I felt my neck being tugged ever-so gently. I lowered my gaze to find him fingering my tie, only to watch as they slid down the tie and onto the pillow, pressing down firmly on it and—consequentially—me.

"Working hard, or hardly working...?" he posed, whispering provocatively, his voice sweet as honey. He kneaded the pillow into my lap as he asked, and my mind couldn't lift its focus from the massage of that satiny fabric over my twitching, aching rod. I gripped my knees even tighter, my bottom lip quivering a bit from this overwhelming feeling.

"Uhn... Working... hard..." I managed to breathe. My suit began to tighten around my body, my tie was strangling me. The thrashing pulse of my heart gradually began to drown out the stifled noise that rose from the floor below, and my panting grew sharper, shallower.

He kissed me. He mistook my answer. He pressed his plush lips against mine, nipping my bottom lip, only to pull away with a greedy smirk. I did not respond. I stared at him vacuously. The heat clouded my mind, my eyes. He kissed me again--more roughly, more eagerly. He forced his tongue through my lips and I gave him way. He lured out mine so that they could dance, our breath their heavy summer night's air. He invited my tongue between the softness of his lips, and he suckled its tip hungrily, soon devouring it whole. From whence began the courtship once more. His masculine hand cupped the back of my head, forcing me into our kiss, his cold fingers pleasurably stroking my scalp. I did not resist. He knew I wouldn't.

Amidst the sweetness that was my encounter, I felt something creep up my inner thigh, its frostiness sending the most delicious chill up my skin, straight through my cock and lingering so delightfully on its raw tip. My beefy stock strained against the plush cushion, begging to be touched and stroked, begging to be teased by another. The very thought made my kisses deeper and my hands tremble. The pressing chill of my fellow's fingertips crept upwards at such an unbearable pace, and I dug my nails into the couch as if to retain my growing savageness. The trail of iciness pressed forward until it finally happened.

Contact. Sweet, sweet contact. His touch was so intense, so sublime, it griped my base, cupped my sac, surged blissfully over my flexing shaft, and overflowed through the head, dripping in thick, warm globs. I gasped sharply in reflex and shuddered violently as his fingers ticklishly stroked alongside my staff and lightly over the tips of my plentiful hair. He enjoyed my response, suckling my neck playfully and rolling his tongue sensually over the ridges of my ear...

"Nathan!" The scream made us start. My flirt thrust his head around to glare at two men hanging around the ledge of the stairs. One of them wore a stuffed donkey's head over his shoulders, the rest of his attire a simple undershirt and jeans. The other was a very tall man with light features and militia garb.

"What the hell do you want, Franc?" Nathan hissed as he slid off me. "Can't you fucking see I'mwith someone?!" I pressed my lips thin at the disruption. I wanted to get back tome...

The sergeant brushed off the hostility.

"Jared is waiting for you." His face was hard with disappointment. There was a faint Germanic accent that crept through his words. The ass beside him held his arms at akimbo, also waiting impatiently for their wayward friend.

"It is almost twenty-two hundred hours, Nathan. Your shift starts in ten minutes. You will be late."

Nathan groaned, stood up and gave the odd pair a nasty look before turning around to me with a kittenish guise. He leaned forward and pecked my ear.

"You're very cute," he whispered cheekily, "You ought to stick around if you really like me." He straightened up, gave me a yummy parting wink, and sauntered over to his escorts, leaving me, once again, to my lonesome.

I stared down at the cushion in my lap, feeling a shivery dampness on the head of my penis. I had soiled it. I pushed aside the pillow and gripped it in my hand, indecently exposing my private. Its tip was still moist with pre-cum. I slipped it back into my briefs and fastened my pants and belt. It took me a while to realize that I was soiled, too.

I slumped in my chair. The overhead light of the kitchen stove was the only source of glow in the forlorn darkness. Back to where I started, I thought. I poured myself a glass of the wine I bought from South Street Nine just before I left. Light trapped in the liquor's vivid yellowish-green translucence. I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip, brooding. Why did I still feel alone? I had no reason to feel this empty, I concluded. Those men were ordinary men like me—they were of my standards.Theywere happy amongst themselves. Perhaps their joy came from their likeness in interests? I sighed once more, taking another sip. The rich flavors intertwined in my mouth, overpowering the bitter taste of disappointment. I set my glass beside my laptop, the screen flickering hypnotically. I stared glazed at my rental service page when a notification chimed from my instant messenger. I switched to another window. Jay was on.

Jayboy1453:hey babe,

Jayboy1453:had a nice day?

I thought, that throughout all that I had witnessed today, despite the turmoil and the return of the clash between my curiosity and self-consciousness, Idid enjoy myself. But—God, help me—agay bar? The mere notion made me slump back in my seat with incredulity. Whatever possessed me to end up there, I still don't know. I tried to rationalize my own guileless curiosity, and I ended up in such a sinful place.

Oh, but how delicious was that sin! Never had I imagined that I could approach it, that I could accept it, that I couldattain it. Somehow, I felt it would never happen. Renting out movies and collecting torrent files... I watched a stream of distant fantasies cycle through a screen every night. It was almost as if I was watching a parallel universe. But is that not what a fantasy is? So how could it ever become my reality?

Stumbling upon those people, in retrospect, I saw them living out their dreams. They didn't deny themselves of their pleasure. Some may call them beasts for wanting to indulge so greedily in such raunchy affairs, but Iwanted that. I wanted that so badly. I only got a second of it. I would have gotten so much more from that time, too, if I hadn't been so modest! Iknow it! I curse my modesty sometimes, but even out of my timidity, I suppose I would have never experienced this most erotic side of me. At least, not by my lonesome...

Maybe one day, I could experience it with Jay.

Jayboy1453:babe?

Jayboy1453:u there?

a_shyguy99:Yeah, sorry!

a_shyguy99:My day was okay

a_shyguy99:Went to a restaurant today

Jayboy1453:which one?

a_shyguy99:South Street Nine

Jayboy1453:.........

Jayboy1453:babe......?

a_shyguy99:Yeah?

Jayboy1453:thats not a restaurant

a_shyguy99:p;',