Michael held his breath as someone entered the opposite booth.
He hoped that by not breathing, moving, or even blinking, they'd realize that no one was there and leave. It worked the past several times, so why not once more? And besides, it wasn't as if his friends knew that he was chickening out. If he could just hold on for another half-hour, he'd be given his freedom and a generous payout for going through with the bet: a bet that he had made and barely remembered.
Honestly, it should have been illegal to hold someone accountable for their promises when they were face down on the floor after downing a single shot of of 151 proof rum. After this was all said and done, Michael swore he would never drink hard liquor ever again.
With a hand held to his mouth, Michael sat crouched over in a far corner, barely safe from anyone willing to get down on their knees and peer through the hole in the wall. Thankfully the room was dimly lit, and so he'd been able to trick the three or so other men by being completely still and silent. It amazed him that it actually worked, and kept working. Besides, there were other booths filled with eager and hungry mouths far talented than his own; it wasn't as if they left empty-handed.
Like the others before him, the man in the other booth hadn't caught on to the 'game' yet, too busy unzipping and shimmying his pants down over his thighs to notice that he may have been alone. He was being as quiet as Michael was being, other than the barely audible groan he gave that made Michael's eye twitch. Then, with confidence, the guy stepped up to the hole and politely slipped two fingers through.
Michael merely looked at them, his dry eyes hurting with the need to blink. The guy had nice nails, Michael had to give him that. They were clean and neatly trimmed like he'd gotten a manicure before coming over, though the rough pads of his fingers looked like they belonged to someone familiar with physical labor. They curled as though trying to entice Michael to touch, but Michael held his ground. He liked giving head, but only to people he'd actually held a conversation with. A curse, he reasoned, and one of many reasons why he stayed far away from establishments like this. He never judged anyone for seeking their pleasures, but this was not for him.
After a minute of awkward waiting, the guy withdrew with a sigh. Michael felt bad. He started to open his mouth and say that he never meant to hurt anyone's feelings when the guy abruptly rapped his knuckles on the wall. Michael jerked his head back in response, his eyebrows hitched up. Did he think that Michael hadn't seen him? Once the knocking stopped, the fingers returned and resumed patiently waiting. Michael closed his eyes in the hopes that he'd soon awake from this nightmare. This was so humiliating. And unfair. Hugely unfair, even.
"Hey..."
Michael jumped.
Oh fuck, the guy was trying to talk to him!
"I know you're in there."
The voice was low and playful, the embodiment of patience and manliness and also... familiar? Where had Michael heard him before? He stared, waiting for the guy's next move, and as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn't resist a swallow. The sound was thunderous in the booth. The guy had to have heard it.
The fingers waggled in agreement. Damn it.
"I need this bad, please don't ignore me."
Michael slowly lowered his hand, his eyes wide. He did indeed know that voice. It belonged to Gary, one of his closest friends since the first grade. Michael opened his mouth, ready to ask a million questions like:
' What are you doing here? How do you know about this place? Since when did you start getting your dick sucked by mysterious men? Aren't you supposed to be three hours away visiting family right now? What the actual hell? '
But nothing came out.
The depth of their situation slammed into him as Gary cleared his throat and tried coaxing him again. It was the same voice he used when he wanted Michael to do something nice for him like picking him up from the gym or covering a lunch bill. Michael almost began to instinctively move. He'd do anything for Gary. He loved the guy. But that was the whole problem.
Gary had no idea it was him, and if Michael were to give himself away by speaking, their friendship would go up in smoke. Gary, as far as he was aware, was straight. If he knew that Michael knew about his activities, then where would that leave them? Gary would probably beg him not to tell the others (which Michael would never ever do to anyone) and never look at him the same way again. Not only because he knew Gary's deepest secret, but that Michael had only found out because he was camping at a damn glory hole.
The whole thing was a mess! What were the odds that they'd meet like this? It should have been hilarious.
"Hello?"
Michael bit his tongue and winced. Gary was making this nearly impossible. Why'd he have to sound so frickin' upset? All he had to do was go to another booth...
Gary let out another sigh and stood up. Michael relaxed his shoulders, his heartbeat going back down to normal--only to increase in cadence as Gary eased his cock and balls through the hole. Being in the booth for so long, Michael's eyes had long since adjusted to the crappy lighting, and as such, he could easily see that his friend was stupidly gorgeous. His cock wasn't atrociously long, perhaps about seven and a half inches in length, but he was decidedly very thick from the wiry blond hairs surrounding the root to the squishy mushroomed head.
More than once Michael had sized him up through his gym shorts alone, but the real thing was much meatier than he had envisioned. It reached out with a slight upward curve, the veins protruding along it a dark contrast to his pale skin. It wouldn't take much for that snake to gag someone, Michael realized, and for the sweetest of moments, he could almost envision the girth stretching his lips to the fullest while the head pressed hard against the back of his throat.
Before he realized it, Michael uncoiled from his hiding place, once more swallowing. Gary made a little chuckling sound under his breath, then much to Michael's confusion, pulled himself free from the glory hole, knelt, and for the third time, presented his fingers. Michael gave up on wondering why he was so adamant that they do this. He crawled forward on his knees and gently grasped Gary's hand.
Gary hummed. "There we are. Small, soft hands, I like that."
Michael blushed and jerked his hand back. Satisfied, Gary got back up onto his feet, then without preamble, eased his genitals back through. A bead of clear precum surfaced from the slit and began making a quick descent. Michael leaned forward to catch it with his tongue and follow it back to its source, his eyes losing a bit of focus at the soft moan Gary let out. His cum had a sweet undertone to it, a clear message that he had come prepared to treat the man giving him head to a delicious meal; it definitely urged Michael to seek more of it.
Slowly, he ran the flat of his tongue over the mass of head, starting from the sensitive glands then up over the now weeping slit, all the way until Michael could arch his neck comfortably and let the bulbous head slip inside the warm confine of his mouth. Gary sucked in a breath, which he let out a moment later in bliss as Michael tenderly sucked on it. His tongue circled the slit, catching each drop of sugary cum until it was the only taste he could remember.
He closed his eyes, and wrapping a hand about the lower portion of Gary's shaft to hold him steady, started stuffing his friend's thick cock further inside his mouth, his lips stretching pleasantly as he did so. Getting about halfway down, Michael paused, reveling in the feel of Gary's cock throbbing eagerly in the safety of his mouth. Gary didn't push or say much of anything. He seemed to enjoy the light holding as well, though Michael did give him an occasional suck and squeeze with his fingers to remind him that he didn't forget his initial goal.
After a moment, he began to ease back and let Gary's head reappear from between his moist lips with a quiet wet pop. Pearl after pearl of precious cum dribbled from the tip, and already the pit of Michael's mouth was heavy with cream. He fought to hold back a horny moan as he swallowed it down bit by bit, the taste of Gary's spunk making him hungry for more. He wanted all of it, every last drop until the well ran dry.
Michael licked at his lips to catch any runaway traces, then taking hold of Gary's root once more, brought his friend's cock back to his mouth. His free hand reached under to cup Gary's ballsack, the weight of it surprising him. Gary had been saving up for a while, he realized. Whatever the hell for? But it was none of his business, and besides, how would he even bring that up in casual conversation?
' Hey bro, I noticed you've been blue balling yourself, need a hand? '
