Chapter 1
When our cabaret troupe finished its tour of the western states, I decided to rent a car and drive the long way back to Chicago to unwind and catch my breath. The drive through Montana and the Dakotas was breathtaking, with grassy ranch land and undulating wheat fields that stretched on for miles. It was nice to have some alone time to collect my thoughts and appreciate the natural beauty of the external landscape. I'd spent so much time performing in busy nightclubs and holed up in cramped hotels that I was beginning to go stir-crazy. But after a few hours on the road, I felt the need to pee, and I decided to stop at a roadside truck stop to empty my bladder.
The diner was busier than usual with long weekend travelers, and when I headed over to the ladies' restroom, there was a long lineup of patrons waiting to use the facilities. After tapping my foot nervously for ten minutes, I glanced over at the adjacent men’s room, noticing a steady inflow and outflow of customers zipping up their pants. When I couldn't hold it any longer, I said fuck it and walked nonchalantly into the main portico, noticing a long line of empty urinals. Some of the men washing their hands next to the large mirror over the sinks looked up and squinted their eyes when they saw a woman enter the private lavatory, and when I headed over to one of the urinals, their eyes flared open as the water splashed over the front of their pants.
It must have been a strange sight seeing a woman unzipping her pants in front of a urinal, but in this enlightened age of fluid gender rights, it couldn't have been the first time they'd heard of cross-gender bathroom use, even in the redneck state of Montana. But as I pulled out my penis to empty my urine into the basin, suddenly two other men walked up beside me, noisily unzipping their pants and spraying their piss noisily into their basins. I could feel their eyes staring down at my shrinking package while I strained to start my flow, but as hard as I tried, nothing would come out.
Shit, I cursed under my breath. Perfect time to have a shy bladder.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" the man on my left chuckled. "Cat got your tongue?"
"More like her dick," the man on my opposite side mocked. "If you can call it that. That worm looks more like fish bait to me."
"Do you need us to nibble on it to help you wet yourself?" the first man sniggered.
"Or perhaps we could hold it for you while one of us massages your prostate? That usually helps a bit–"
"Fuck you, assholes," I said, stepping back from the urinal and zipping up my pants. "Have you ever heard of bathroom etiquette? Or treating a lady with respect?"
"Possibly," the first man said, winking at his companion. "But you ain't no lady."
"Whatever," I said, strutting over to the last open cubicle next to the far wall and slamming the door shut angrily.
After latching the door, I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet seat with my elbows propped up on my knees, panting in anger while I stared at the graffiti scrawled on the partition. Amidst a plethora of crude erection drawings showing them jetting their loads were a bunch of phone numbers with names to call for a 'good time'. I rolled my eyes as my bladder began to relax and when my stream started to spray into the toilet bowl, I heaved a sigh of relief, happy to empty my bladder and have some privacy while I did my business. But when I felt the last drops dribble out of my hanging appendage and I reached over to the side wall to grab a sheet of toilet paper to wipe my helmet, I suddenly heard some panting sounds coming from the cubicle next to mine.
I angled my eyebrows, thinking it was someone trying to empty his bowels, but as I pulled up my pants to exit my stall, I heard the man's vocalizations shift to a decidedly different kind of noise. Before long, the grunting turned into moaning, and as I paused my hand over the lock on my door, I hesitated while I held my breath to listen to him more closely. When I heard the distinctive fapping sound of the man jerking his cock in the echoing chamber, a small smile flitted over my lips while my jeans tightened around my crotch as my own organ started to twitch and swell.
"Fuck it," I whispered to myself, pulling down my pants again and sitting over my cold toilet seat.
Normally, I would have unrolled multiple sheets of toilet paper from the dispensary stapled to the side wall and folded them carefully over the seat so my bare skin wouldn't come anywhere near the filthy commode, but in this case I was too worked up to think about it. As my dick started to thicken and rise between my legs while I listened to the adjacent patron jerking his tool and groaning more loudly, I grasped my hard-on with two hands and lay back while I stroked it equally fast and hard.
"Suck on this, assholes," I grunted while I peered at my thick instrument popping in and out of my hands. "I'll show you a worm the likes of which you've never seen before..."
While I stroked my pole faster, causing the toilet seat to creak, the sound of the guy jerking off next to me suddenly stopped while silence filled the space between our two cubicles. After a few moments, I heard the sound of strange scratching against our shared partition, and I squinted at an unusual chrome plate affixed to the wall a few inches beside the toilet roll holder at waist height. I hadn't noticed it at first, thinking it was part of the normal fixtures, but when it started to wobble slightly, I saw that the lower bolt holding it to the wall was loose, and I leaned over to press my finger on the latch to keep it secure.
But when I felt a tap coming from the other side of the plate, I wrinkled my forehead and pulled out the bolt, watching the disc-shaped piece of metal swinging from side to side. I flipped it upwards a few inches, and when I saw a large gap cut between our wall with a shadow moving in the space next to me, I quickly let go of the covering, watching it swing from side to side while I caught my breath. Someone had gone to a great deal of effort to fashion some kind of hidden glory hole between the two compartments, and as my heart pounded in my chest, I peered down at my cock watching it bounce excitedly in my lap while it emitted a soft drop of precum out of the tip.
"Hey," a soft voice called from the other side. "Don't be nervous, it's just us two guys getting off in the boy's room. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
I paused for a long moment, alternately frightened and exhilarated at the prospect of jerking off in a public restroom with the guy in the next-door cubicle watching me, then I slowly lifted the latch, inserting the loose bolt into a small hole drilled on the upper edge to prop it open. The hole was a perfect circle, about six inches in diameter, with a rubber sleeve attached to the inner perimeter to protect against sharp edges. I lowered my head a few inches to peer into the next-door compartment, and when I saw the man's hard-on sticking straight up between his legs, I yanked my head back up, holding my hand over my mouth.
Holy shit! I thought to myself. That guy is huge! He's even bigger than me, and my cock is nothing to sneeze at–at least when fully erect.
I could feel him staring at my bobbing pole, and while I sat there frozen in fear, I suddenly heard him stroking his erection again, with the telltale slapping of his hand against his upper thighs.
"It's cool, man," the guy whispered while he stroked his hard-on. "We're alone now. Let me see you jerk that beautiful hard-on of yours. I like how you shaved your pubic hair, that's hot."
"Thanks," I whispered softly, not wanting to reveal my high feminine voice and show that I was actually a ladyboy using the men's washroom.
From his slightly elevated perspective, sitting a few feet inward from the hole in the wall, he couldn't see clearly between my slightly parted legs, so he wouldn't have noticed that I had a dripping slit where a man's balls would normally be. For now, at least, I was happy to continue the fabrication that we were simply two horny truckers stopping at the local diner for some harmless fun. I reached out to circle my throbbing instrument, and as I began to pump my hands up and down over my dripping pole, the guy next to me hummed in approval.
"Yes," he grunted while he jerked his erection in synchronicity with mine. "Pump that dick with two hands. That's a magnificent hard-on..."
"Thanks," I whispered, not wanting to get into a long discourse while we whispered pillow talk between the steel partition.
"Your hands are soft and smooth," he groaned as he slapped his hands harder over his parted thighs. "I'd love to feel them on my dick."
"Mmm," I grunted, not willing to escalate our impromptu encounter to the something more direct and intimate. "Come on my balls. I want to watch you spray your spunk on me."
"Fuck yes," the man grunted urgently. "I'm almost there. Oh fuck–"
Suddenly, he stood up and thrust his shaking erection through the hole in the partition, spraying his semen all over my legs while he groaned and shook his body against the trembling wall. For some reason, I found this brazen display of public sex highly stimulating, and within seconds, I was spraying my own spunk high into the air, commingling our cum as jets of semen flew all over the inside of my compartment.
It took me quite a while to finish coming, and when we both stopped dribbling, the man next to me kept his hard-on stuck through the portal while he panted heavily.
"That was fucking awesome," he hissed. "Are you up for a little more playtime? Because if you want to suck me or have me return the favor, I think I've got a little extra juice in the tank."
"Thanks," I whispered in a husky voice. "But I should get back on the road. I've got a delivery to make, and I'm running a bit late. Thanks for the show. That should get me the rest of the way to my destination."
"Anytime, sweetheart," the man purred, retracting his dripping tool from the hole and zipping up his pants before exiting his cubicle and stomping out of the restroom.
