He was visiting. He was close. Less than 700 feet if Grindr’s GPS was remotely accurate. A few messages back and forth confirmed this to be true. His a trip here to see an ailing parent, so for him, there was stress involved. Not enough to keep him off Grindr, I noticed.
We traded a few vague messages back and forth, but he was with family and I was working. At some
point, I said I was headed to lunch – and he said the cafeteria was near where he was. Again, vague.
There was no outright invite from either of us, nor was there any confirmation of he’d be heading that
So there I was, eating the salad I brought for lunch. It was a two-top, with a number of other two-tops
around. Most were occupied. The one directly in front of me was not. After a bit of time, a man sat
down at the nearby table, facing me. He looked at me. I looked at him. He kind of looked like the guy in
the profile pic, but enough not that I did not initiate conversation. Nor did he. He smiled weakly once. I
The problem where I was eating is that the reception is SO bad, that it wasn’t easy to get back to then app to see if he was less than 250 feet away. He was. I finally got a signal and he confirmed it was him. He headed back and sat with me while I finished my lunch.
We chatted about mundane things. It was crowded and there was only so much one could say. We
tried to imply certain things – such as he’s been traveling and here, busy with no time on his own. I
translated that to: he’s had no sexual outlet for a while now.
I wasn’t wrong.
The conversation never got explicit, but between the lines, we knew what we were saying. He saw me
try to be subtle when I reached down to adjust myself through my suit pants. He did the same, but said
he had to stand up due to a wrong angle. I think he just wanted to stand up and show me what was
lurking beneath his jeans.
It was such that I asked him if he was going commando. He claimed he was not. So I was somewhat
impressed at what I could view through thicker denim. He was smiling at me the entire time, knowing I
wasn’t really making eye contact when still talking to him. He sat down, I finished my meal and then
said, “do you want to take a walk with me? I know a place.”
In truth I knew of a place. Two, potentially. How good they might be wasn’t clear. One restroom has a
two door entrance system – so you heard people coming, and two close stalls. Not big enough to do
underneath, but so cramped you couldn’t really see under to see if there were two pairs of feel
(assuming you got the far stall). The second option had one stall with way way way too much visibility
underneath. Anyone could see anything. The plus was the door was far enough away from the urinals
that one could get themselves together if need be. For the record – I’ve never fucked around in either
Option one was ruled out immediately, as housekeeping had it blocked off for cleaning. So I kept
walking. He trailed behind by a few yards. The second location was empty. I stepped up to a urinal. He
took the adjacent one. We both pulled out our cocks.
His was nice. If I’m honest, it looked bigger in his jeans than out of them. But it was a good, 6.5” or a
little more. Decent thickness to it. Slight upward curve. This would prove useful in this public restroom
He reached for mine. He liked it, but we both knew, though we never said, that’s not what we were
here for. He took a step or two away from the urinal, presenting me his cock. I bent over and enveloped
it with my lips….and then my mouth….and then to the throat. That upward curve with me bending to get
to that dick was just the right angle.
”Oh, you fucking cocksucker!”, came out of his mouth after deep-throating him a few times in a row.
I’m 91% sure he meant it as a compliment. I was not fucking around here. No edging. No artisanal
cocksucking tricks. This was strictly, or mostly, a blow and go. You know that effort one might put into
the end of the blowjob to finish the guy off? I started at that level.
While he wasn’t boisterous, I was thinking he was louder than he should have been for a public
restroom in a potentially high traffic area. He moaned. He swore. He called me names. Or what I call,
‘said all the right things’.
We were only three minutes in – tops – when he said he couldn’t hold back.
I didn’t want him to.
”Oh fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!!! Take it all you cocksucker!”
The man gushed. And gushed. And gushed again. He’d been at his childhood home, having not gotten
off for 4-5 days (yes, he told me). I was the beneficiary. I took it all, just like he told me.
I cleaned him up….with my mouth. I took every drop. I stood up. We straightened up. He told me to leave
first and I did. I did notice him leave, but trail behind me by a few dozen yards now. He was here for an
I never heard from him again.