Ricky waits, listening to the sound of his own breathing, leaning against the cold metal of the restroom stall. The handicapped stall is larger than all the others, and to Ricky it feels like its own little office. It’s fairly clean, as well, which is nice. Ricky spends a lot of time in here, so it’s not like others have much opportunity to dirty it.
He hears the door to the restroom swing, hears a man come in. Ricky waits in the stall, listening. The footsteps move towards the urinals; he can see the neat brown leather of the shoes as they clip-step from the door and along the wall, coming to rest. He hears the zip, then the splashing stream of urination.
This must be well-timed. Ricky likes to wait until the men have finished their business. He walks out of the stall and moves to the urinal next to the man, standing there as though about to open his fly but making no move to do so. He watches the man out of the corner of his eye.
The stranger is tall, with neatly-trimmed dark hair and a small mustache. His clothes seem almost the definition of ‘business casual’—brown pants and an open suit jacket with no tie and a plain blue shirt underneath. He is finishing up; the stream of urine stops and the man grabs his member to shake off the last few drops. His cock is not as enormous as a few Ricky has seen, but sizeable enough to be tempting—it’ll be a good seven inches or so when hard, Ricky judges.
“I like your cock,” Ricky says, finally turning to partially face the man. “I bet it would feel really good in my ass.” As the stranger looks at him with wide, astounded eyes, Ricky turns his back to the man and begins to undo his fly suggestively. At the same time he saunters back towards the large handicapped stall, leaving the stunned man standing there.
Once in the stall, Ricky lets the door close partially but not all the way behind him. He pulls his pants and underwear down to his ankles and bends over the toilet bowl, one hand gripping the handicap railing. With his other hand he reaches down into his pocket and pulls out a small square foil package. He reaches behind himself, placing the condom on the flat surface of the small of his back, and then grips the second handicap rail as well, bracing himself.
This is the dangerous part. Most of the men Ricky approaches leave in this situation; stunned, disgusted, or just not interested. But occasionally, if Ricky has calculated wrong, he will get a violent one. A man who is shocked and appalled that some ‘fag’ would DARE look at his cock, who storms into the handicap stall and beats the living crap out of Ricky. And who then usually fucks him as well, because without fail the men who get that angry are repressing something themselves.
But sometimes, if Ricky is lucky and has calculated it all just right... there it is. He hears the stall door swing open as the stranger from the urinals slips inside, closing the door behind him and locking it with a soft metallic click. The sound of shoes approaches, and Ricky feels a soft touch on his back as the condom is lifted off of it.
There is the light pressure of fingertips on Ricky’s hips. Then, a touch of flesh against his exposed bottom. The man’s cock is still soft, but he grinds the naked member against Ricky’s ass, rubbing up and down, up and down, stiffening himself. The cock glides slickly along the crack in Ricky’s behind; Ricky is incredibly well-lubed, and the slickness seeps out of him and coats the swiftly-hardening cock.
There is a crinkling, tearing sound as the foil packet is ripped open. The pressure of the stranger’s cock disappears for a moment as its owner removes it for condom application. Seconds later it returns, still rubbing as before, coating the outside of the condom in the lubricated leavings of Ricky’s anus as well.
Then another slight pause and the feeling changes. The stranger is lining himself up, one hand on Ricky’s hip and one on his own cock, nudging the very tip of the head against the tight pucker of Ricky’s hole. A little push, a little rearrangement, and then suddenly there is a smooth forward pressure, gliding in, sliding in as the man’s cock sinks into Ricky, inch by inch piercing him.
He gets about halfway in and starts his thrusts. It seems to take the stranger a moment before he realizes that he can go deeper, that Ricky’s ass is unresisting as it swallows every inch of him greedily. Each thrust goes a little further and further in, until the man is balls deep and swiveling his hips in small, tight thrusts.
The hand that had been guiding the stranger’s cock slides up the length of Ricky’s back to grip his hair, tangling his fingers into it before tightening, wrenching Ricky’s head back. Ricky gives a gulping groan as the man fists his hair, hips pumping madly as he fucks Ricky’s ass with abandon. The man’s other hand slides down from Ricky’s hip to his thigh, pulling Ricky back into the thrusts, forcing his body harder onto the spear of the stranger’s cock.
“Oh fuck,” the stranger mutters. His voice is deeper than Ricky expected. “Fuck, that what you wanted, slut? That what you wanted to feel? You like that?”
Ricky groans his encouragement, clenching his muscles as tight as he can around the thick, engorged feeling inside of him. Pleasure shoots up his insides, his own cock twitching occasionally with want of attention. Ricky ignores it, focusing instead on the meaty, satisfying penetration and slick slide of the man’s cock as it goes in and out, in and out, delving deep into him and pulling far out again before the next slam forward.
Too soon the man’s thrusts stutter to a stop as he pushes himself as far as he can go down Ricky’s ass and shudders to his climax. Ricky clenches his muscles helpfully, making the man groan and writhe as his seed explodes from him; Ricky can feel the twitch and pulse of it against his inner walls.
The man pulls out abruptly, swiftly, while Ricky’s muscles are still clenched. It’s so fast, in fact, that his slick cock slides right out of the condom, leaving the latex sleeve half-buried in Ricky’s ass, slowly dribbling is contents down the back of Ricky’s thigh. The contact between the two men disappears completely, and Ricky hears the man’s ragged breathing for a moment before it is covered by the sound of his zipper closing up, an uncomfortable throat-clearing, the click of the stall lock releasing and finally the tap tap tap of his shoes withdrawing.
Ricky remains bent over for a moment, then straightens with a groan. He reaches behind him and yanks the full condom out of his anus, feeling it slide wetly out of his tired and fucked-open hole. He tosses it into the square silver trash bin hanging on the back wall of the stall, and uses some toilet paper to clean himself up a little. Then he pulls up his pants and zips them, slumping to one side against the stall wall as he waits for his heartbeat to calm down, waits for the telltale sound of a different pair of shoes, the swing of the restroom door.
Ricky waits, listening to the sound of his own breathing, leaning against the cold metal of the restroom stall.