Dustin likes the closet. It’s warm, comfy, and dark. Who needs to be out when you can get all the anonymous sex you want via the internet? And, besides, coming out is messy and gets you nowhere—certainly not a relationship. Real gay love is fiction.
When Dustin meets CollegeJock22 for a quick blow-and-go in the university library men’s room, everything he thought he knew crumbles. He can’t get that man out of his head and will do almost anything to have him. The only problem? CollegeJock22 is even more in the closet than Dustin. He’s in so deep he can’t even see the crack of light under the door.
Hot blowjobs! Call Dave!
Dustin glanced over the phone number scrawled in faded pen, marring the grey paint. A half a dozen more “offers” just like it were scribbled around it. There was something inherently sleazy about hookups advertised through bathroom graffiti.
He had no right to judge, he realized, since the reason he was here in this stall—in the men’s room at the back of the library—was for an anonymous blowjob with some guy he met on the internet.
Dustin barely knew anything more about CollegeJock22 than he did about “Dave,” but it was still different...somehow. He’d at least seen CollegeJock22’s picture, even if it had only been a grainy crotch shot. Of Dave, he’d seen nothing.
His thoughts crashed to a halt when the bathroom door opened. Blood immediately pounded in his ears, so loud he struggled to hear the hesitant footsteps make their way to the urinal. Cold sweat spread across his forehead; he’d done his share of hookups, but this was his first in a public place. The danger of being caught both terrified and excited him.
Dustin stared raptly at the sneakered foot, visible just below the stall wall as the other man stopped at the urinal on the other side of the metal divider. He had to wait for the signal. Until then, he had no idea if this was CollegeJock22 or just some dude taking a piss.
He heard a zipper open, but not the telltale sound of urination. The foot shifted. The pant leg lifted, briefly flashing a white sock. The signal. Dustin flashed his own sock.
Nothing happened. Embarrassment swelled as he realized this was an awkward coincidence, that this was not CollegeJock22.
Then the other man’s feet moved. Another wave of cold sweat peppered his skin. He was wrong; this was the right person. Now he just prayed the man wasn’t fat and ugly, that his profile hadn’t been one big lie. His breathing grew shallow and his heart thudded as the man stood on the other side of the stall door. Dustin had left it unlocked, as planned. It squeaked softly as CollegeJock22 nudged it open.
All thought and doubts vanished as the fullness of CollegeJock22 was revealed. This was, quite simply, the hottest guy Dustin had ever hooked up with. It seemed he was one of the few men who actually lived up to their profile. He easily stood five foot eleven with tight golden curls peeking out from below his ball cap; his muscled chest pulled his shirt taut beneath his open jacket, and his cock...a gorgeous piece of meat dangled from his open fly. CollegeJock22’s thick and semi-hard dick sprouted from a dusting of fine hair. It had to be at least seven inches when erect.
Dustin’s gaze wandered up to meet the nervous eyes of CollegeJock22. Normally, he might go slow, ease the guy into the act, but this setting made that laconic pace awkward. Also, Dustin had gone without sex for three months now—his last hookup being before he moved to Toronto. Masturbation was no longer cutting it. He was fucking horny. He needed a cock in his mouth, he needed cum sliding down his throat, he needed to be nose-deep in the sweaty crotch of another man...