The Restroom

All characters are 18+

Let me be clear. I'm gay, and I've known I that I'm gay for as long as I can remember. It's not even a question in my mind anymore. I'm a nineteen year old gay guy, and there's nothing anybody can do about it.

Did that stop me from desperately trying to convince my friends that I was some sort of straight macho man? Absolutely not.

It started in a bar, like so many interesting stories always do. With fake ID's and cheap alcohol flowing, it didn't take long for me to find myself face to face with a pretty attractive young woman. Now, despite the fact that I'm 100% gay meat, I can appreciate a good looking female.

She seemed to have some sort of interest in me, and I'd be lying if I said she was the first. For some reason, girls liked me. I guess I was your typical 'fuck-boy' looking chad. I'd spent most of high school and the start of college, finding new and clever ways of letting chicks down gently. Naturally, none of these ways involved just being honest and telling them that I was extremely homosexual.

I knew that my excuses were beginning to raise brows with my friends. For most of my teenage years, I'd been in a secret, long distance relationship with a girl named Beth. Beth, of course, was nothing more than a figment of my imagination, but it gave me some respite from the usual teenage boy pressures. Now, however, I had to make a choice.

"You're very hot" the woman, who I learned was called Amy, told me.

"T... Thanks" I replied, staring straight across the bar, wondering what on earth I was going to do to get out of this.

"Do you wanna' come to the restroom?"

I knew the others had heard. As soon as she said the words, they erupted with cheers and whistles, and I felt my stomach churn. I had no choice, not if I wanted to keep up this charade. There were no excuses left but the truth, and I was sure as hell not about to come out to my six masculine, sport-loving friends in the middle of a packed bar.

I'll spare you the disturbing details of the restroom, but suffice to say, it was a dreadful affair. We kissed, I felt a vagina for the first time, and she tried to coax an erection from me, and failed miserably, which of course, was nothing to do with her exactly. I made it up to her by using my mouth, and oddly enough, she seemed relatively pleased. So much so, that when we returned, me with blushing cheeks, and her with a grin from ear to ear, she winked at my friend group and the place went wild!

I felt like I was the king of the castle for most of the night. As much as the encounter had been awkward and utterly repulsive for me, I'd succeeded in taking the ever growing pressure off, and now I was free to stay in the closet in peace. For a while, anyway.

The bar was the only place in the town that didn't check our ID too closely. We returned almost every weekend, and three weeks after the fateful night in the restroom, I noticed Amy again. I tried to keep as much distance between us as I could, but eventually I had no choice but to stand at the bar, and she noticed me instantly.

"You're gay, ain't ya?" She said, chewing gum and playing with a pink straw in her drink.

"What?!" I gasped, as though that was the most bizarre thing anybody had ever uttered. "No way! I told you, I was drunk the last time".

"So how about we do it now?" She continued, "you're not drunk now, right?"

I felt my cheeks burn as the bartender placed my drink down. For the first time, I prayed that he'd check the ID very closely. He didn't.

"I can't" I lied, "I'm um... I'm seeing someone".

Her eyes narrowed, a smile grew on her face, but it disappeared almost instantly. I stared at her as her gaze moved from me, over my shoulder, and suddenly she looked nervous.

"You're gay" she hissed, and I scoffed, now feeling rather offended.

"I told you–"

"You're gay!"

I was about to argue, until a shadow fell over me, and I turned to find a guy standing there, his face as hard as stone, and his dark eyes burning holes in me. He was at least six four, or five. He was built like a fucking tank, and I was sure that he was about to flatten me.

"This him?" He said, with a low, growling voice. "This the motherfucker you've been cheating on me with?"

He didn't take his eyes off me, and I could do nothing but tremble. For context, I'm five eight with shoes on. I'm a small guy, and pretty slim, too. All it would have taken was for this guy to flick me, and I'd probably have ended up in the emergency room.

"No!" Amy laughed, as thought he idea of cheating on, presumably her boyfriend, with me was the most repulsive thing on the planet. "He's just a friend".

I wanted to ground to swallow me. Mr. Muscle didn't seem even remotely convinced as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing basketball sized biceps, and prepared himself to end my young life.

"Drake, he's gay" she half whispered, and the man's eyes narrowed further.

For the first time in my life, I told the truth. I told the truth in the most convincing, non-convincing way I could. I needed Drake to believe me, but I needed Amy to believe that I was just a very good liar.

"Yeah" I said, forcing a breath of laughter, "I'm gay, man, nothing to worry about".

His face relaxed slightly, and after another tense few seconds, Drake laughed and took a sigh. "God damn, Amy" he said, ordering a drink with his hand, "you're gonna give me a damn heart attack one of these days".

As they began talking, I used the opportunity to get my gay ass out of there and return to my friend group. It had felt strange, yet oddly freeing to admit my sexuality to the man, and it felt even better that he hadn't been even slightly bothered by it.

As the night went on, I mostly forgot about Amy and Drake. I returned to the bar a few times, but it was close to midnight when I went up for my last round.

"Fine, go then!" I heard Drake snap, and watched from the corner of my eye as Amy grabbed her belongings and stormed from the bar. I kept quiet, and pretended that I hadn't heard a thing.

"Yo, you're that gay guy, right?"

The barman glanced up at me, but stayed silent as I cringed, and Drake stood next to me. Admitting it again was more painful, now that someone else was listening, but I nodded discreetly and Drake handed his card to the barman.

"Drink's on me" he said, and my heart began to race.

Was this some sort of mafia style interrogation? Was he going to pretend to be nice, then murder me? My mind went wild as the barman swiped his card and walked away.

"Come have a drink with me" Drake said, or rather ordered, and I could think of no good reason not to.

Chances were, he was going to kill me anyway, so I may as well enjoy a free drink beforehand. Plus, my two remaining friends were already making plans to go home with two young women, so I was going to be left alone, anyway. I sat down, Drake sat next to me, and he clinked his glass off mine.

"Cheers" he said, his strong hand almost crushing the glass, "cheers to staying as far away from women as possible" he laughed, and swallowed his drink in one go. I sipped mine gingerly.

"What's your name?" He asked, and when I told him, he said "Josh, I sometimes wish I was gay, you know that?".

We spoke in detail about Drake's life, and I found myself being comfortable for the first time ever. I didn't have to watch what I said, nor did I have to hide any evidence of me being gay, I was allowed to speak freely, and it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

"You're right" he finally said, when I'd explained how difficult it is to be gay, "I suppose I have it easy compared to you".

"I'm happy to swap" I joked, "your life for mine".

Drake chuckled to himself and looked around as the bar began to empty out. "I don't know about swapping" he told me, in barely more than a whisper, "but how about you give me a taster of what I'm missing out on?"

I gawped at him, he stared at me, and I couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. He cocked his head toward the restroom, the same exact one that Amy and I had been in a few weeks prior, and I gulped.

"Come on" he said, taking my wrist, "I won't hurt ya".

It happened so fast. One second we were wading through crowds of people who were on their way home, and the next we were alone in a small, brightly lit restroom. Drake slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside, and suddenly we were kissing.

His strong hands closed around my face, he pushed me back against the tiled wall, and his tongue pushed into my mouth. My entire body seemed to explode in a passionate release. Finally it was happening. Finally I could understand the hype that all my friends had when it came to kissing.

I kissed him back, but he was too strong to fight. Eventually, with his hands holding my wrists above my head, I made the decision to let the man do whatever he wanted to do. I was already hard. The excitement of feeling a man's touch for the first time was enough. If I had died in that moment, I would have died happier than I'd ever been before. I wanted to scream with joy. I wanted to fist pump the air. Instead, I felt my pants being undone as Drake held me in place and continued kissing me.

He was a good kisser, too. He was strong and dominant, but gentle and sweet, as well. He wasn't too fast, nor was he too slow, he was perfect.

I felt my jeans fall to my knees, and then his hand groped the outside of my underwear. No man had ever touched me there. Two girls had tried, and both times it was a painfully dull ordeal. Truth be told, I had wondered if my dick was simply broken, but Drake had dispelled that worry instantly.

I moaned into his mouth as he squeezed my bulging cock. He jerked it through my boxer briefs, making me squirm with pleasure. He kept my wrists together with one hand, and with the other, he released my eager rod from my underwear and let it slap against the bottom of my t-shirt.

Drake looked down, I did, too, and without a single word, I watched the muscular man get to his knees and take my cock into his mouth.

Fireworks went off. That's the only way I can describe the feeling. He swirled his lips and tongue around my sensitive cock head, and now it made complete sense why my friends were all addicted to being blown.

I almost crumpled. The pleasure was something that I'd never experienced before. Having Drake swallow every inch of my six inch cock was literally breathtaking. I could hardly get air into my lungs. Each time I tried, Drake seemed to suck it out of my dick. My knees began to tremble as he held my hips and kept me pinned against the wall.

He went faster, gagging on me as my cock disappeared and reappeared in his mouth. My balls were wet with our juices, my eyes were rolling back, and after almost five minutes of the most spectacular sensations I had ever known, I gasped, grunted, thrust and moaned, and Drake began to gulp down my seed.

It felt like the small restroom was spinning around me. I had to hold onto him to stop myself falling over, and when the orgasm eventually came to a halt, it was like my soul had been fucked into his stomach.

He got to his feet, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smiled at me as I stood there, my pants around my ankles and my wet cock twitching.

"That was better than I expected" he said, his eyes travelling over my half naked body, "we should do this again sometime".

With those words, Drake opened the door and I scrambled with my pants.

"See you around, Josh" he said, disappearing, and I held my jeans up, fell back against the wall and laughed manically.

"Yeah" I smiled to myself, "see you around".