My heart literally hammered in the silence of the toilet cubicle at work, thudding loudly through the hollow of my expanded chest as I held my breath not knowing what to think or say. I was excited like I hadn't been in a very long time. In fact I felt like a teenager that had only ever daydreamed for years what sex for the first time could be like and I was straining to control myself as I helplessly imagined the possibilities.
In my mind his hands braced my buttocks gently, he pulled me towards him and his wet lips and warm tongue were sliding over my intensely stiffened cock...
Earlier that day, before work, I'd sent him a text message saying, 'hi, I got your message from last night. Bet you can't guess who...'
I'd checked my phone fanatically every five minutes after that moment for the next two and a half hours and all I got was the same old nothing. It began to feel like a bad joke until my phone finally buzzed on the office desk at just before eleven and I'd practically snatched for it in my haste to read the outcome, half expecting it not to be from Him.
One of my colleagues eyed me with a look of suspicion. I had been maybe a little nervous, fuck that, I was shitting bricks because of what I was setting in motion here. Straight old me, the ordinary, boring and somewhat closeted personality of every finance sector of every company in every city. The one that's so unassuming, unsocial and seemingly faultless that everyone wonders just how closeted he really was.
'Wow, somebody loves me after all,' I joked as Helen continued to watch, clearly waiting for me to spill the beans on whatever could have been more important than the morning grind. I raised the phone to eye level, entered the message, saw Mikey's number and exited it immediately, feigning disinterest.
'Who could possibly love you?' Helen replied with overdue sarcasm, since she'd waited a whole weekend to make my days a misery.
'If you mother could love you, then there's always hope,' I replied with a smile. Nobody laughed. The intended humour was lost. 'I'm going for a shit,' I said, to make up for it.
'Charming... with your phone?' Helen observed, my Nokia held firmly in hand. One eyebrow creased and so I wished her entire face would as well.
'Yes,' I answered plainly with a nod.
I'd latched the cubicle door shut behind me and sat down on the toilet seat, entering Mikey's message again. The moment I read it I became excited, nervous to the point that my gut stirred almost painfully and the crotch of my underwear began to tighten.
'Would love to feel your cock in my mouth right now,' he'd sent.
In my mind I began to stammer. I couldn't think straight. Graphic visions began to flash behind my eyes. Immediately, I undid my trousers and wrestled to get my cock through the fly of my boxers as I stiffened and began to slowly massage my foreskin back and forth over the head. I was as stiff as a wooden pole in seconds.
My phone still in one hand, I sent back another message asking, ' so when's your mouth free this week?'
Even the excitement of knowing where this was going made me want to spunk gallons there and then so I did. I went to work on my straining erection and shot into the toilet bowl but still it wouldn't subside so i went at it a second time and unloaded twice as quickly before another message came through.
'You said you have your own place last night?' Mikey replied. 'When's your next day off?'
'Saturday,' I replied. 'Six. Whole. Days. Away!'
Feeling gutted already at the thought of having to wait that long, my excitement began to subside. I was able to leave the cubicle then without taking a trace of guilt with me and then after washing my hands and face in the sink and drying off, I was then able to leave the restroom and return to the office.
My phone buzzed again but I left it until lunchtime so as not to arouse any more suspicion, let alone arouse myself.
'That's okay, we can meet Friday night and get to know each other all over again,' he'd sent.
As if the rest of that day hadn't gone slow enough, the rest of the week dragged like a dead cow having become snared beneath a combine harvester. Not even imagining Helen as the dead cow, nor imagining her stuck beneath a combine harvester made it go any quicker. But it gave me the time to put myself across to Mikey, which I'd need to if we were going to get what we wanted out of meeting each other.
On Monday night I'd asked if I could call him and when he returned confirmation, I hasted to hear his voice. The accent took me by surprise, though I don't know why. I knew he was from the same city as me and it wasn't as if I'd fantasised at all about what he might sound like.
But his voice was at least youthful and gentle, not abrupt or overbearing as I might have feared. I didn't want to be scared away by someone so outwardly gay and feminine sounding, and at least that wasn't him. In fact he didn't sound as gay as I thought he might. The voice almost didn't fit the photo of him online.
We chatted some; small talk. There were some compliments as to what one and the other sounded like over the phone and about how we both looked in our pictures before the conversation got to what we both really wanted.
I lay there on my bed that night, no television or radio; the room in silence except for the sound of his voice close to my ear. Again, my cock strained against my boxers but I kept my free hand away, allowing the tension to build.
'So what made you come back?' he asked.
'I don't know...' I paused.
'You don't know?' he laughed.