Page 62 of Tagging Bases

I bite back a moan as my cock literally jumps at the forbidden sight. Fuck, I can’t believe how turned on I am right now. Over my best friend’s ass, of all things. I’ve seen it hundreds of times—in the locker room, in our bathroom, even when we’ve come home drunk from a party and he strips in the hallway.

This is too much. I need to do something about these urges before they consume me. Before they ruin our friendship beyond repair. But how? I’m not on any hookup apps; I prefer to find my one-night stands at parties. And it’s only ten in the morning. There aren’t any parties at this time of the day, at least that I’m aware of.

And then it hits me like a line drive to the chest. The dive bar from New Year’s Eve. The one with the glory hole in the men’s room.

I remember how I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to stick their dick through a hole in the wall for a stranger to suck. But with my hormones raging out of control and confusion swirlingin my head, the idea doesn’t seem as far-fetched now. In fact, it might be exactly what I need to figure out if this attraction to Daniel is a one-off or a sign of something else.

The dive barlooms before me, its dingy exterior belying the salacious secrets within. My heart pounds as I push open the door and weave through the midday drinkers to the men’s room.

The door creaks as I slip inside the dimly lit space. Graffiti covers the walls and the urinal reeks of stale piss. But my focus zeros in on the infamous stall at the far end.

With trembling fingers, I slide the lock into place. The glory hole stares back at me, its edges worn from untold encounters. A far cry from when it was brand new on New Year’s Eve.

God, I can scarcely believe I’m about to do this. What would Daniel think if he knew? What would Roy say?

Swallowing hard, I undo my jeans with shaky hands. They pool around my ankles as I sink onto the toilet seat. I softly gasp when my bare ass touches the cold porcelain. My cock juts out from between my thighs, flushed red and dripping with need.

I wrap my hand around the rigid length, hissing through my teeth at the jolt of pleasure.

Minutes tick by with agonizing slowness. I stroke myself languidly, trying to stay hard despite the growing anxiety gnawing at my gut. No one comes in—not to piss, not to shit, not even to wash their hands.

Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe no one else is as desperate and depraved as I am.

Suddenly, the sound of the bathroom door swinging open causes my hand to freeze on the upstroke. The stall door next to me creaks open. The lock slides shut.

A heavy breath. A shuffleof feet.

My cock throbs in my grip as I strain my ears for any hint of what’s to come.

Silence stretches, taut and electric. My pulse roars in my ears, nearly drowning out the tinny music filtering in from the bar.

I realize with a start that I’m the one who has to make the first move. Sucking in a shuddering breath, I tap my foot beneath the partition, the universal signal for “suck my dick, please.”

For a long moment, nothing happens. Humiliation burns in my cheeks. Of course, they don’t want me. This was a mistake. I should just?—

A slim finger pokes through the hole and curls in unmistakable invitation. Beckoning me. Urging me closer to sweet release.

In a daze, I rise on unsteady legs and shuffle to the wall. It’s only a short distance from the toilet, but to me, it feels like miles.

With a racing heart, I line myself up. The head of my cock kisses the stall wall.

This is it. No turning back now.

I slide my cock through the glory hole. A moment of stillness, then the wet heat of a tongue flicks over the sensitive head. I gasp, my hips jerking involuntarily at the sudden sensation.

Whoever is on the other side wastes no time. Their lips wrap around my shaft, sliding down the full length until I hit the back of their throat.

Holy shit.This guy knows what he’s doing.

I close my eyes and lose myself in the building pleasure. But behind my eyelids, an unexpected image takes shape. Pink lips stretched obscenely around my cock. Shaggy blond hair tickling my thighs. Piercing blue eyes gazing up at me with mischief and desire.

Harrison.

I don’t know where the thought comes from. But now that it’s there, I can’t shake it. Harrison is on his knees and worshipping me with his talented mouth. His fingers dig into my ass cheeks, urging me to thrust deeper. His pleased hum vibrates around my length.

The vision is so vivid, so arousing, that my orgasm takes me by surprise. With a strangled shout, I explode, painting the back of the anonymous man’s throat with my release.

I slump against the stall, spent and sated. Confusion quickly settles over me. Why did I imagine Harrison and not Daniel? I assumed if I fantasized about anyone, it would be my best friend. After all, these confusing feelings started with him. It was Daniel’s body that stirred this sudden attraction to men within me.

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