Pacing in Tight Places

Participants are over 18.

"How is that ever going to fit?" I asked myself as I rolled the cart with my tote boxes up to the door of my storage unit. I grumbled to myself that this was a Hell of a way to spend a Saturday.

I was in one of those converted warehouses where you access the units by finding your way through a maze of corridors, watching for the unit number that matched the one on your key. My unit was deep in the labyrinth and my footsteps resounded with a hollow echo; the sound seemed unable to escape so many walls. I unlocked the padlock on my unit, opened the door and light stabbed into the dark space.

I sighed. Large matching tote boxes were piled in two stacks on the right side of the door, four high and four deep, filling all the space on that side except on top. The other side of the unit was filled with odds and ends, from tool boxes to small furnishings. The only way these additional boxes were going inside this unit was if I stacked them on top of the other tote boxes. I muttered a silent curse at my wife and her flirtation with the "minimalism" fad. I would be the one lifting these boxes above my head to settle her discarded items with the rest. No doubt in a few months I'd be bringing boxes home to fill our house back up.

There was no use griping about it. Out of shape as I was, I began hefting the totes up on top of the dusty bins. Then to make room for the next one, I had to reach up and push that one farther back. I had four of them on top and I was getting tired. I heard a wheeze in my breath, but I wanted to get the job done. I exerted myself on the next box, which was heavier than I could easily lift. I felt it slipping in my grasp as I struggled to raise it up. I was on the verge of losing it when I had some unexpected help.

"Easy does it," a gruff voice said.

I was startled but too preoccupied with preventing my tote box from falling back on me. A man had come in behind me and leaned in against me, raising his arms over mine and lending me his strength. Presently, the box was secured on the top tier of the pile.

Job done, the man did not draw back as I expected. I felt strangely enclosed between his warm body and the storage bins. After a few seconds, he took secure hold of my wrists and turned my body around to face the last two tote boxes I was dropping off. I was confused, uncertain what he was doing. Then I felt it against my left buttock: a yielding hardness I easily recognized. Before I could protest, he let go of my wrists and bent me over the bins.

I had worn a t-shirt and sweat pants for these Saturday chores. Now I felt a hand reach around my waist and deftly untie the drawstring of my sweats. I froze, shocked by this sudden turn of events. He probed inside my pants and underwear. My astonishment only grew as a calloused hand closed around my cock. The rough texture rubbed against the most sensitive nerve endings in my body. He started jacking me off and, seeing that I submitted to his caresses, he did so with increasing confidence. I simply stood there, transfixed by sensation and surprise.

I was kindled by his grip on my cock. I could not resist his touch. What followed was not to be forced; within seconds, my tacit consent was sent and received. I offered no resistance and melted into the pleasure he was giving me.

I felt hot breath on my ear. It smelled of peppermint. He nibbled at my ear lobe and kissed my neck and I felt my cock expanding in his purposeful hand. This stranger's exertions turned my breathing into panting. I was being held and handled and, to my surprise, I was enjoying it. I started groaning as I felt the pressure building in my loins. I knew I was going to come soon. I briefly considered the fact that someone other than my wife was going to give me an orgasm for the first time since I began dating her twenty years ago. Never in my deepest fantasies had I ever imagined myself being compelled to have an orgasm by a stranger in an environment as seedy as this. I felt guilty about this disloyalty to my wife for a few seconds before I was swept by a tide of sensation.

With a deep groan, I came hard and long in his hand. I hadn't emptied my balls in several days. He reached around me with his left hand and yanked my sweat pants down so hard that they bunched up at my knees. Then he pulled my underwear down as he pulled out his cum-glazed right hand. I was still bent over the boxes, and now my backside was exposed to my unexpected lover. The front of my briefs had hooked on my still-twitching cock, so while my ass was exposed, my erection still pointed into my soggy underwear.

The fabric of my shorts was saturated with my semen, but most of my silky cum had been collected in his hand for repurposing. The man behind me used one foot to kick my legs wider apart, giving him better access to my ass. I felt him pressing cum-covered fingers into my anus. I knew my load was being used to lubricate my virgin asshole for his satisfaction and all I could do was moan with pleasure. I heard the man spit and felt the moisture fall into the crack of my ass, joining my semen as a lube.

All this while, I had been like someone in a dream. I was being used and manipulated like a common and willing whore. I did not act, but was acted upon.

And I was loving it.

I felt the spongy tip of his cock penetrating my ass-crack and slowly, relentlessly enter my asshole. I had braced myself for pain, and there was a little, but it wore off very quickly. I opened to him completely. There was no discussion, but I had to admit this was consensual sex. I wanted it. I wanted him. Inside me.

Almost from his first thrust, I felt his cock touching my prostate. I had heard of the male g-spot of course, but mine had never been directly stimulated like this. The result was an extreme but unfamiliar pleasure. I noted with interest that my cock remained fully erect, making a tent in front of my briefs, slowly dribbling more pre-cum.

As we continued to move to the natural rhythms of sex, I felt my lover pressing me forward. Soon I was bent right in half over the boxes. My new position improved his access and his cock reached new depths inside me, and he never stopped stimulating my prostate with his thrusts. I felt a weight against the top of my ass and realized that it was the man's protuberant belly bouncing against my backside. My fingers were curled over the edge of the tote box lid I was leaning over. Then I felt a shift in the stranger's weight. He was leaning over my back, pressing his gut against my back and once again nibbling at my neck. I shuddered and sighed. His hands reached down the length of my arms to close over my clenched fists. It was surprising tenderness from a man aggressive enough to simply take a complete stranger up the ass in a public place.

His breathing became laboured and hoarse, and there were little moans interspersed. I could tell my lover was going to come soon. I wanted him to feel good, so I pushed back to meet his increasingly rapid thrusts. He gave out a long, loud grunt and for the first time I wondered if these echoing hallways were amplifying the sounds of our lovemaking for the unsuspecting clients of this establishment. With his groan, I felt, for the first time ever, a spray deep inside my bowels and, with another sigh, I came helplessly in my underwear for the second time in ten minutes.

For a few short minutes, the stranger lay over my back resting and catching his breath, whispering hot and dirty things into my ear about what he would do to me next time and calling me filthy names that made my cock twitch. Then he raised himself up off of me. I heard a zip and he was gone.

I never even saw his face in the dim light of the storage unit.

I was a sweaty, disheveled mess, with my softening cock growing cold in my wet underwear and my t-shirt run up my back from the rubbing with the stranger's belly. My pants were down around my ankles and cum dribbled out of my ass and down my legs. I imagine I was a sight.

I straightened my t-shirt and took off the wet briefs. I pulled up my sweats. I left the last two totes just inside the doorway of my unit, just where they'd been when he fucked me on them. It wasn't where I originally intended them to be, but they might come in handy just where they were... for next time.