“I’m gonna come, James, fuck… faster, I need you…” Michael shudders, and then he cries out, body stilling with the force of his orgasm as he spurts into James’ throat, fingers curling desperately. His hips jerk twice involuntarily, and James gags slightly, trying to swallow. A string of sticky cum trails down his chin from the corner of his lips, dripping off Michael’s cock as he pulls away, shaking and propping himself up with his hands.
James doesn’t know how they got to this. He doesn’t care either. He saw something he wanted and took it and as he palms his own swollen crotch, staring up at Michael burnt out and panting in satisfaction, eyes begging Michael for something in return, he’s regretting nothing.
Michael’s head hangs back against the stall, his eyes shut and his chest heaving. “What…” Michael starts, but trails off again to catch his breath. He opens his eyes a little to glance down at James, face twisting into one of curiosity and confusion. He lets out a breathless laugh, unsure what else to do. “What brought that on?”
James’ eyes slide away from Michael, dropping to the floor, his hand falling to his side again. As his head swims with questions of what he is doing here, on the dirty floor of a public toilet, he begins to feel humiliated and remorseful. There is no part of him that doesn’t feel the guilt of what he’s just done, after the argument, after confessing his sins to the woman he’d married. James begins to think there is something wrong with him, as he pushes himself up off the floor and turns away from Michael. He can still hear the other man’s heavy breathing, and the question is still hanging in the air. He clears his dry throat, pacing a few steps further away and putting a closed fist to his lips, trying to think of a sensible answer.
“Anne kicked me out. She knows.”
It’s as blunt as he possibly could have put it but James doesn’t care. Michael doesn’t need the truth sugar coating.