Dean Walsh was happy with his new life, his job, his girlfriend. Until his boss, billionaire Salomon Ellis, discovers his darkest secret. From then on, he will hold Dean hostage to his whims in exchange for his silence.
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"Here?"
"Yeah, there."
"But it's full of people!"
"ITs share toilet cubicles?"
"I mean the restroom! There's a dozen guys right outside this door!"
"Then you better keep it down, right?"
"Please!"
Big Ellie raised his eyebrows at the same time the ring's pad started vibrating behind my nuts. My eyes fluttered closed, anticipating what was coming, no pun intended. Knowing he wouldn't stop, I felt for the toilet lid and closed it to sit down on it.
Like back on Monday, he made me rest the phone on my knee, my legs spread apart to grant him a clear view of my crotch, and he wouldn't let me touch it. So I tried to relax and let him have his way as usual. He changed the vibrating pattern until my boner made a notorious bulge in my slacks. Then I felt the first tiny drops of oil cover the ring pad. I let my head fall back with a shaky sigh, the changing patterns working to rub my skin and spread the oil, gravity making it trickle down to my butthole. It wasn't easy to control the impulse of touching it, knowing so well how that deepened the hot ripples already filling my guts.
At least he let me grab my bulge over my pants, and squeeze it and stroke it, as long as I did it slowly. He wouldn't let me open my fly until a wet stain appeared below my pocket. Then he picked the pattern that felt like a finger running from my nuts to my ass and back.
"Follow the pattern," he said.
It was actually a great idea. Jerking off to that pattern seemed to mix all the sensations into one exhilarating, burning wave that took me over in a heartbeat. He kept pace as I stroked my cock faster, until the pad felt like a patch of steady vibration.
He made me push my slacks down to my heels and bring my feet up to the toilet edge, keeping my knees apart. That seemed to help the pad reach further. Feeling the ribbed tip brush my butthole, covering it in oil, made me shake. I managed to muffle a helpless moan, lost to the ripples and pricks that filled me up inside, and the usual overwhelming need to come and keep going at the same time. Big Ellie's deep voice in my ears did the rest. There was no way to hold back after he whispered the single word I needed to hear.
"Have a good night," he said, as I leaned back against the toilet tank, eyes closed, still shaky and out of breath.
I cleaned myself the best I could with toilet paper and took another moment to bring my heart rate down before leaving the cubicle. Five minutes later, I fell asleep on the van, tired but oddly relaxed.
Back home, I shared a nice evening with Steph and granted her some goodnight action. She casually commented it was a pity we'd run out of lube samples. I could only agree. However, my little moment back in the Square restroom helped me overlook that, once again, sex with her felt like a dull going through the motions. On the bright side, being okay with her always felt good, and covered for the lack of thrills in bed.
