In a Hotel Bathroom

This is a 100% true story that happened about two years ago (Sean’s name was changed out of courtesy)

It’s upward of eighty degrees in Queens, New York and Sean and I are in the middle of a pride festival. Neither of us are super into the festivities, it’s hot and crowded and we’re not drunk enough to muscle merrily through the horde. Instead we break away from the festival (with pockets full of condoms and almost as much lube) and head to a little Mexican restaurant for drinks. We sit at the bar and chat up the handsome bartender idly crushing mint leaves and he talks to us about soccer. Sean is better about sports than me, so he carries the conversation while I let myself be transfixed by the bartender’s perfect, perfect arms. Eventually the demands of making other people’s drinks whisk the arms away from my view and Sean and I continue to drink.

I’m a native New Yorker and he’s only here for a short visit. I’ve showed him around town, but we’ve spent more time in a hotel room seeing sights that aren’t marked on any subway maps. We get thoroughly sauced and Sean starts to get aggressive, grabbing my thighs and whispering to me about what he’d still like to do to me.

The catch is that he has a five o’clock flight and it’s already after three. I figure at this point it’s all talk. We’ve already checked out of our room and we just have to go back to get his bags from the hotel before he heads off to the airport.

We hop on a bus and the dirty talk continues while I grow an erection I can barely hide, even in my baggy cargo shorts — which interestingly enough I’m wearing as I write this.

Sean and I are, shall we say, underwear enthusiasts and so more than familiar with each other’s fondness for undies. Considering we’d dressed together that morning, he knows that I’m wearing black 2xist briefs under my clothes and he takes great care in describing how the hot day has probably made me sweat into the cotton. He imagines aloud how wet the fabric is under my balls and cradling my cock.

It’s almost a relief when we get to the hotel.

At the hotel we find out that we still have another twenty or so minutes to burn before his shuttle comes around and picks him up for his flight, so Sean has me follow him into the public bathroom on the ground floor of the hotel. As soon as we’re inside he pushes me against the sinks and starts kissing me and reaching for my zipper.

I’m not exactly a prude, but caution makes me suggest we move the action to a stall. Sean is having none of it. He turns me around so that we’re both facing the large mirror over the sink as he unzips my shorts. He’s behind me, pressing his hard cock against me as he plays with me.

He massages my bulge through my underwear and enjoys all the sweat and precum I’ve loaded into my briefs. He brings his hands up to his nose and then mine so that we can both savor the smell. I’m crazy turned on at this point. He reaches one hand under my shirt to tweak my nipples as he reaches another back down into my shorts to jerk me off through my underwear.

I’m horny and nervous. We’re doing this in the middle of the bathroom. Anyone could walk in and catch us, but I’m too fucking turned on to stop him.

He tells me that he wants me to cum in my underwear. He wants me to load them up for him. He wants the cum to drip down my leg while I’m on the bus home. And it’s too much, it’s too hot. I shoot my load, moaning and writhing against his hand, right into my black briefs. It’s a huge load and it starts to seep through my shorts before I can even move.

“Something to remember me by,” he tells me before he takes his hand out of my shorts and feeds me a taste of my own cum.

We say goodbye not too long later, but I spend the next few hours in cum-sticky briefs getting raging hardons in public. Not too steep a price to pay in my estimation.

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