He glances at the stalls as they pass them and is sort of disappointed there's no one else here -- not that he really wants to get in trouble (well, a little trouble), just that getting caught is half the fun of doing it in public. His chest finally hits the wall and his hands come up to brace himself, his head tilted to the side. "Do it," he breathes, "I want you to."
His hand reaches around to yank Brody's pants open and begin to push them down as his other shoves him against the wall by the back of the neck. "Speak. Tell me how much."
He doesn't need much urging. "I need it. Please. Fuck me, I need you inside me, I want this all the time." His cheek is pressed to the wall, eyes closed and nails scratching lightly at it; his hips grind back into his and up against his hand. "I thought about this a lot," he murmurs.
It is certainly not a question. After unfastening his own belt and jeans, he reaches over and slams his hand against the soap dispenser. His teeth tug sharply at the top of Brody's ear again.
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It is certainly not a question. After unfastening his own belt and jeans, he reaches over and slams his hand against the soap dispenser. His teeth tug sharply at the top of Brody's ear again.
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