By: Ryan Michaels
The morning air was still quiet
when I arrived at the large office building. Hoping to make up for having to
leave early the day before, I had come in much earlier than usual, long before
anyone else in my office.
Needing to use the facilities
right away, I hurried inside the shared public washroom off the main hallway
and slipped into a toilet stall. Just a few minutes later, the heavy outer door
clicked open. Footsteps echoed on the tile, and someone walked directly up to
the row of urinals located straight across from the stalls. Through the narrow
vertical crack in the stall door, I could see who it was: my co-worker, the
very person I sat directly across from and collaborated with every single day.
As I turned back to my own business, a peculiar detail caught my attention: he was lingering at the urinal far longer than usual, and there was no sound of him pissing. Peering through the crack once more, I spotted the unmistakable motion of his right arm. A wave of disbelief washed over me as I realized he was masturbating right there in the men's room at work, standing openly at the urinal. My mind went into overdrive with questions of whether this was a one-time thing or part of some secret daily routine. Then the pieces clicked into place, reminding me that he always managed to beat me to the office.
Mesmerized and unable to look
away, a sudden surge rushed through my dick. Before I even fully registered
what I was doing, I found myself quietly stroking right along with him, my eyes
locked on the steady movement of his arm. It wasn't long before he let out a
stifled grunt, flushed the urinal, and zipped up. Panicking slightly, I pulled
my feet up off the floor so they wouldn't be visible under the stall partition.
He washed his hands at the sink and walked out.
The encounter lingered in my mind
all day, a secret electric current running between us across our shared office
desks. Still plagued by the question of whether this was his daily routine, I
arrived early again the next morning and ducked straight into the same stall.
True to form, he walked in and repeated the exact same routine, with me quietly
matching his movements behind the closed stall door.
This secret ritual repeated every
single day for a week, and as I watched him yet again, a sudden, daring idea
seized me in my heightened state of arousal. Acting purely on impulse, I
quietly pulled up my pants, secured my clothing, and decided to follow through.
Silently, I unlatched the stall
door and slipped out into the washroom, moving across the tile with absolute
quietness until I was right behind him. Reaching around his waist, I pushed his
hand away from his cock and wrapped my own hand firmly around him. His entire
body seized in a sharp jolt, a sharp gasp escaping his lips in pure surprise.
But the moment my hand began stroking his hard, horny cock, resistance melted
away, leaving him capable of nothing more than deep, quiet moans. Knowing that
he was a married father of two only heightened the transgression, making the
hidden scenario playing out between us feel all the more illicit.
I stroked him at a steady pace
for a few breathless moments before accelerating, driving us both toward the
edge until he let out a low grunt and came heavily into the urinal. The instant
he finished, I released him and bolted out of the washroom before he could even
catch his breath or turn around. He was left standing there with no idea at all
that the person who had just jerked him off and made him cum in the office
urinal was the co-worker who sat directly across from him every day.
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