In the men's restroom at the first floor of the building I work in is a stall for the disabled. It was built to accommodate wheelchairs and other personal conveyance devices, and so walled off a large area, almost half of the room. This, coupled with the fact that it was located at the far end, past the two urinals and a second, much smaller stall, made it a conveniently private place for masturbation. I've had a lot of sessions in there, seated at the toilet, with my legs stretched out, and I didn't have to worry about the other guys coming and going. Sometimes, they'd walk to the other stall, and I'd watch their feet through the slots at the bottom of the dividers, and tried to guess who they were through their shoes.
One pair of dark brown loafers I liked particularly. They belonged to our systems administrator, Jim. He is a classic nerd in some respects - shy, very smart, very much into computers, and as far as I knew, straight but no girlfriend or significant other. But I thought he was gorgeous. Jim had wavy dark hair, deep set blue eyes, and a square masculine jaw. Medium build, but walked with a slight swagger that oozed with sex appeal. And best of all, the two perfectly round buns of his butt that just begged to be grabbed. I heard some of the women had a crush on him. So did I. We were on friendly terms, but I never revealed my desire for him, this is, after all, a workplace, and I didn't want to do anything inappropriate.
So I was content to fantasize about him while jerking off in the bathroom stall. Sometimes I'd be rewarded by the brown loafers walking in, getting into the other stall, pants dropping, sitting on the toilet, and me staring at his hairy legs as I imagined myself in there with him, on my knees.
I was in one of these sessions when I heard Jim's voice from the other stall.
"Hey, man, I ran out of paper," he said, "could you pass me some, please?"
I wasn't ready for it. I was in the middle of an ejaculation. I heard him, but it didn't register fast enough.
"Could you pass me some paper, please?" he repeated. I saw his hand appear under the divider.
"Hold on," I managed to say.
My right hand was covered with semen, so I used my left hand to pull off a few sheets from the roller. As I stood up, my pants fell all the way to my ankles. It was probably a comic sight, me with my right hand holding my dripping cock, my left hand holding the toilet paper, shuffling over and nearly tripping on my pants.
I handed him the paper. As I did, a large dollop of sperm fell off my dick and landed on the floor, barely missing his outstretched fingers.
"Whoa!" he said in surprise.
Shit! My mind went blank. I held my breath as I waited for what he would say.
Jim laughed.
"Looks like I caught you in a bad time, there, buddy," he said. "Or a good time, I should say."
"Yeah," I gave a sigh of relief. He seemed okay with the whole thing.
"Sorry about that," I added.
Jim didn't answer. He continued going about his business, so I shuffled back, grabbed some paper, and wiped myself down. I buttoned up my pants, debating whether or not to walk out. He could probably guess who I was from my shoes and my voice, but I didn't want to confirm my identity. I decided to stay in the stall, standing.
I heard Jim flush, buckle up, then walk to the sink and wash. I waited for him to walk out of the room, but he didn't. Instead, he walked up to the door of my stall.
"I know it's you, Alex," he said, laughing. "Don't bother hiding."
I opened the door. Jim had his hands on his hips, with a smirk on his face.
I gave him a sheepish grin. But I noticed the bulge in his crotch, so I couldn't resist teasing him about it.
"Looks like you're itching to get off, too," I said.
Jim reddened and gave me a guilty look.
"Well," he said, tentatively, "I've had a few sessions in there myself."
What a revelation! I decided to push him a little further.
"I could help you out, you know," I suggested, "if your hands are too tired from typing on the keyboard all day."
He gave a start of surprise. Oh, shit, I thought. Bad move. But the growing grin on his face told me I was on the right track.
"Just what kind of help are you talking about?" he asked.
I motioned for him to come in the stall.
"Why don't you have a seat and I'll show you," I said.
He hesitated for a moment. Then he walked in and sat on the toilet. I knelt in front of him.
"Isn't this a little dangerous?" he whispered. "What if someone walks in?"
"We'll just keep quiet," I whispered back. "They can't see us unless they look in, and nobody does that."
I was worried that he would back out, so I grabbed his zipper and pulled down his pants and underwear. Jim's dick had gone soft, probably from fear of discovery, so I lost no time in getting it into my mouth.
As I played with his dick with my tongue, he gave a small whimper. I pushed my face into his pubic hair, enjoying the sensation of his cock as it hardened and lengthened in my mouth, his cockhead pushing at the back of my throat. When his dick was fully hard I let it glide out of my mouth. I had to take a look at it - cut, not overly thick, but long, probably 7 or 8 inches, with a nice helmet head -- perfect for sucking.
"You like that?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Suck it, man," he said in a husky voice.
Jim put a hand on my head and guided my mouth back on his cock. I went down on it with gusto. My lips formed a comfortably tight fit around his shaft, with room for my mouth for my tongue to slide around it. As I bobbed my head up and down, I cupped his hairy low-hanging balls, making him whimper.
"Oh, yeah," he groaned. "Ohhh!"
He stood up on his feet, put both hands at the back of my head, and started humping my mouth slowly. I grabbed his ass, and felt the muscles there working. After a few minutes, his thrusts started to come faster and more forcefully.
"I'm coming soon, man," he groaned softly.
With each thrust, my nose hit his crotch, and his cockhead slid down my throat. I started to gag, but I held on and tried to relax my throat, encouraged by his soft groans and whimpers. I felt the first spurt of his cum at the back of my throat, followed by several others. I swallowed as much as I could, but some of it ended up dribbling down my chin onto the floor.
I looked up at Jim. He was smiling.
"Looks like your sperm's not the only ones swimming on the floor," he said, as he grabbed some paper from the roller and wiped my face.
I got on my feet and smiled at him. Looks like we're in for some good times.