Chapter One: Rhett & Miles
By the time the clock ticked past twelve-thirty, I was already loosening my tie. Yes it was hot, and not because the office was any busier than usual. It was just one of those days. Constant requests flooded my inbox, a stream of client calls lined up for the afternoon, and a weekly progress meeting with my boss who seemed to take great pleasure in pointing out anything I’d missed. My tie was suffocating me. I had deadlines, pressure and things to do. I felt a little detached from all of it, almost like an out-of-body experience.
I fled my desk to go get lunch, stepped into the heat outside, and walked aimlessly through the same streets I passed every day on my way to work. It smelled like roasted nuts from the vendor at the corner, mixed with gasoline and the faint trace of sweat rising from the pavement. The usual city noise wrapped itself around me, bus brakes squealing, people on phones, the mechanical whir of a delivery cart. But everything felt far away.
I picked up a deli roll out of habit, though I wasn’t really hungry. Something with roast beef and horseradish, too much bread, barely any sauce. I ate it as I entered the lower level of the shopping center, chewing and swallowing without thinking, surrounded by polished floors and mannequins staring into space with more purpose than I had. I told myself I was just killing time before heading back, maybe clearing my head a little, maybe just avoiding my inbox for a bit longer.
Eventually, I ended up on the upper floor, drifting toward the public toilets tucked into the corner behind the management offices. The lights buzzed softly overhead and the air inside was cooler, sterile, tinged with the chemical sweetness of citrus cleaner and whatever body spray the last teenager had used. I stepped into the last stall because I needed just a few minutes away from everything.
I sat down with my trousers still buttoned, resting my elbows on my knees, staring at the floor like it might give me some spark. I heard water running, the occasional squeak of a sneaker against the tile, someone pissing at the urinal followed by the whoosh of a hand dryer.
That’s when I noticed the hole.
It was low, wide, and worn at the edges. I wondered who the fuck took the time to do such a thing? I stared through it, in awe at the ridiculousness of such an intrusion of privacy.
Someone was on the other side, so I looked away.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some movement, so naturally I glanced through it again, even moving my head down a little.
I was just a bit curious.
Through the hole, I saw a hand, tanned and rough stroking a huge, thick cock. This guy’s dick was like something from a porn flick, uncut and milky white. Too invested, I leaned in slightly and that’s when I saw the sleeve.
A construction shirt, faded high-vis yellow, streaked faintly with dust and sweat like he’d come straight off a site. And stitched just above the curve of his shoulder, red block letters spelled out a name.
Rhett.
I recognized the logo. I’d passed the site a hundred times on the walk to work, barely glancing at the scaffolding or the men bent over power tools and lumber. But that logo, that name, was impossible to miss. And now here he was, or someone from that crew, sitting on the other side of a wall, legs spread, cock in hand, completely unaware that I was staring.
Or maybe he knew.
His head shifted forward and for a second we locked eyes, just long enough to register that they were startlingly blue, clear, intense, and sharp. His hair was sandy, damp at the temples, and messy in a way that said he’d been working hard and sweating. He didn’t look surprised to register the hole, just calmly clocked me. Focused, and maybe a little nervous underneath.
I moved back and held my breath, as though I’d been caught. I don’t know how long I sat like that but again, curiosity compelled me. I leaned in again, watching him, pretending my hands weren’t starting to tremble slightly where they rested on my knees. My trousers were suddenly tight and my throat was dry. I began giving myself every reason I should walk out of that bathroom and go back to work and pretend this hadn’t happened.
Instead, I watched him jerk off slowly, realizing he was enjoying it.
He angled slightly towards me, so I could see his big balls, smooth underneath a small bush that told me he wasn’t a manscaper.
I was fascinated. I hadn’t seen a hard cock up close since that threesome with my college girlfriend at the time and that guy.
I’m not often the sharpest tool in the shed, but I did get the message he wanted me to watch him masturbate.
For some reason, my dick got very hard. This was something that shocked me about the situation more than all else.
He angled towards the hole even further, then half stood and moved towards it, gently stroking the foreskin back and forth.
Even as I watched, stunned and confused as to what was going on, that dick moved closer to the hole, then the tip of his cock came through, just slightly.
I looked around me, up over the door, and checked I wasn’t being watched and this wasn’t a prank because paranoia was starting to set in.
This cock throbbed and I could see a little bit of precum.
He was giving me permission, or baiting me. I couldn’t tell the difference.
I leaned forward. Not all at once, not with any kind of confidence. Just enough to blur the line between watching and doing. My hand moved before my mind could catch up. I didn’t grab it, I just reached out, two fingers brushing lightly across the tip. He twitched in my hand, a faint gasp escaping through the partition. Not loud, just audible in the suddenly quiet bathroom.
My heart pounded so hard I thought I might pass out.
This was insane! I was in a public bathroom, touching a stranger’s cock, and my wedding ring was still on my finger. One step too far, one noise too loud, and this entire moment could explode. I should have pulled away and I should have run.
But instead, I continued to touch it, slowly stroking it. When I wrapped my hand around the shaft, more curious than anything, more precum came out.
I pulled my hand away, staring at it like it was foreign to me.
The big dick disappeared, and once more I could see his face on the other side, watching me. Then, his tongue wriggled, and moved forward.
Under the partition, I saw him drop to his knees.
It did not take a genius to know what he intended.
Whatever this was, we were already past the point of turning back.
Then his tongue slipped through the opening.
Moving as though on instinct, I stood, about to run out the stall and back to the known safety of my office.
But what shocked me more than anything, was that once I stood, I unbuckled my belt, undid my button, unzipped my trousers, and pulled them down along with my underpants so they were around my knees.
And then I did the unthinkable. I moved forward and put the tip of my cock, not quite as girthy as his, but possibly around the same size, right up to his mouth and I let it touch his tongue.
He licked it.
My legs trembled, my knees threatened to drop me to the ground, and sweat began to pour down my back.
I had reached a point of no return. There was no way I couldn’t explore something that was right in front of me.
My cock wanted it. It demanded what that tongue offered, so I forced my mind to stop questioning and let my dick decide.
What the hell could go wrong?
I pushed it in further.
His mouth wrapped around me like he’d done it before. There was nothing clumsy about the way his tongue moved or the way he kept his pace slow, letting me feel everything. His lips sealed around the base, his hand wrapped around what didn’t fit, and I leaned against the stall wall with one hand bracing myself like I might collapse if I let go.
What happened next made my entire body jolt like I’d been hit by lightning. His mouth was hot, it was soft and it swallowed all of my cock.
I could feel it pulsating in his mouth. I bit my lip. Hard. I couldn’t make a sound, someone could walk in and someone could hear.
But I was terrified. And excited. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
The more I tried to stay still, the more my hips shifted forward, slow at first, then with urgency. I could hear myself breathing now, short and shallow, my legs still trembling.
His mouth was incredibly talented. I felt his tongue underneath my shaft, his hand stroke my balls as he swallowed all of my cock. He’d let it out a little, suck some more, release a bit, lick the tip, suck the head, tighten his mouth around it and then suck to the base.
My hips were pushed right up against the glory hole at this point, pushing it into his mouth as far as it could go, refusing to think about it, but letting the incredible pleasure overwhelm me.
He sucked it all the way, and I felt myself suddenly ready to explode. I couldn’t help it, and there was no warning. At one point, I tried to pull away, but he gripped it tight and continued sucking it.
He knew and he wanted what was coming next.
With my hips pressed up against that wall, I ejaculated what felt like torrents of jizz.
I stood there, still trembling, staring at the wall in front of me, breathing like I’d run a marathon as the final wave of my semen flooded his mouth.
Through the wall, I heard him gulp and swallow.
Then I stepped back, tucking myself away and quickly fastening my trousers. I rushed out, and washed my hands without looking at myself in the mirror.
I nearly ran back to the office like I was underwater, as though I was running from something.
That afternoon, normally I’d be far too busy to be distracted with the workload I had on, but all I could think about was what I’d done.
I told myself it would never happen again. An itch had been scratched and a curiosity sated.
But meeting after meeting, instead of seeing the mountain of work in front of me, I saw the blue eyes through the hole, and the name stitched into the shoulder of that construction shirt.
Rhett.
If you thought that was hot...
Rhett’s just getting started. And Miles? He’s about to find out what it feels like to be wanted by a man who doesn’t respect rules.
The next part is up now, and it goes way further.
Read The Straight Construction Worker Through the Glory Hole Part Two on Patreon. Bring tissues.
👉The next part of this story will be published on my Patreon, where things get deeper, dirtier, and way more complicated.
