The door leading into the back room of the club creaked open. It was the cue Willis Evans had been listening for, for over twenty minutes. As the sound of footsteps crossing the tiles floated into his cubicle, Willis lowered himself to his knees. The floor in the pokey little space was much the same as he’d always found it—cold, hard and far from clean.

The partition wall shuddered as the door into the neighboring cubicle was pulled closed behind its new occupant. Willis took a deep breath and let it out very slowly when he heard the lock on the other man’s door slide into place.

All his attention focused in on the hole between the adjoining spaces. A few seconds passed, and a foil wrapper was offered through it. Willis stared at it for a moment, as if he’d never seen a condom before. Finally, his brain kicked into gear. He took the packet from the man on the other side of the glory hole.

It was nice of the guy to offer him the choice, but a second’s consideration had Willis slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans. No point wasting it on a blow job when there might be someone who’d be willing to use it for something more than that later.

Fabric rustled. Willis turned his gaze back to the hole linking his world with the other man’s. The edges of the opening might have been rough when it was first cut, but at some point some practical-minded visitor to the club had covered the perimeter with masking tape. The DIY job had been pristine when Willis had first visited the cubicle, several months ago. The strips were peeling away now, battered by constant friction.

Past the circular frame created by the remaining partition, Willis watched strong hands reach for a button up fly.

The lighting was dim, full of shadows, but as Willis stared through the hole, he could have sworn a spotlight shone on the other man’s crotch, as if it was highlighting a personal little peep show, being put on just for him.

The top button slipped through the denim, then another. The hands that unfastened the other guy’s fly were big, masculine—a working man’s hands.

More buttons were quickly undone, it wasn’t long before Willis knew his first ‘date’ for the evening was going commando. Pushing back the denim, the other man exposed a long, thick shaft, already half hard with expectation.

The guy wrapped his fist around his cock, stroking himself three or four times before finally offering his cock up to the hole. He was tall, the hole was only just high enough to accommodate him.

Licking his lips, trying to work some moisture in a mouth left dry by unaccountable nerves, Willis leaned forward and took the tip of the offered cock into his mouth. There was no reason to be anxious. It was just a blow job—he should have been able to do that in his sleep by now.

Willis closed his eyes as simple instinct encouraged him to suckle gently around the head of the other man’s cock while it rested snugly inside his mouth. He took a little bit more of the shaft between his lips, dipping his head toward the hole in the partition.

Just a blow job…

A tiny satisfied sigh drifted through the partition and, as easily as that, something inside Willis settled. The pleasure in the soft little sound soothed a part of him that had been neglected for far too long. It was just a blow job—just a chance to feel another man’s pleasure and know he was the guy who made the other man feel that good. As Willis felt all his concerns about the wider world begin to fade gradually away, there was no just about it.

Swirling his tongue around the tip of the other man’s cock, Willis formed his lips into a neat seal around his shaft. The only important thing right then was the man before him and it didn’t matter if he was on the other side of a wall. And it didn’t matter if he was a stranger rather than the kind of master that Willis would have sold his soul for the privilege of kneeling before either.

The shaft filling his mouth stiffened further and Willis felt himself fall helplessly into the moment. Before. After. For the first time in far too long, everything but the present stopped mattering to him.

As reality started to slip away, Willis helped it along, chasing it from his mind, desperate to live in a world where everything really was as simple as a hard cock and a willing mouth, if only for a few minutes.

Sucking more greedily around the stranger’s shaft, Willis dipped his head further forward, trying to take more and more of the other man’s erection, until his forehead nudged against the partition. A slight change of angle, allowed him to slide his mouth a little further down the shaft. The head of the other man’s cock slipped into his throat as his lips kissed the base of his date’s cock, where it nestled between neatly-trimmed dark curls.

Pulling back, Willis ran his tongue along the vein on the underside of the shaft. Before the tip of the other man’s cock could slip from between his lips, he bowed his head again. Pre-cum begin to leak, hot and salty, onto his tongue, making him all the more desperate to satisfy the other man.

Something about the stranger called to him. It made him hope the other guy would be pleased with him, in a way Willis had thought he’d given up daydreaming about a long time ago.

Willis closed his eyes very tight. Reality wasn’t important right then. The truth surrounding his life didn’t matter. While he knelt there in the shadows, he was free to pretend the world was any way he chose to imagine it being. No one could even catch sight of his expression and guess what he was doing. And he couldn’t be whipped for it, if no one knew.

“Perfect…”

Willis couldn’t hold back a responding whimper as the word crept through the wall. Blinking his eyes open, he looked up at the battered partition, as if there was really some chance he’d see a dominant there, pleasure in his eyes and praise falling from his lips.

“That’s right…” The other man coaxed, his voice rough with pleasure.

Willis moaned his reply around the guy’s shaft, doubling his efforts to beg the other man’s orgasm out of him. A movement high above his head caught his attention.

Fingers curled over the top of the wall. The other man rocked his hips, making the most of the leverage his strong grip on the partition could grant him. He fed his shaft into Willis’ mouth again, moving faster with each thrust as he raced toward the edge of pleasure. A glance down and Willis saw the toes of a very well polished pair of boots poke under the barrier.

It wasn’t enough. Closing his eyes, Willis pictured the wall disintegrating between them. He imagined one of those wonderfully powerful hands sliding into his hair, holding him in place. Even without the other man’s fingers tangling in the messy blond strands, Willis stilled, willingly giving up all control to the other man, as he let him take his mouth however he pleased.

As the shaft thrust deep between his lips, Willis licked and suckled around it, praying for another word of praise. The stranger’s rhythm faltered. Willis sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing out as his lips tingled with friction.

The man buried himself inside Willis’ mouth as he came, spilling across his tongue almost faster than he could take. Willis swallowed rapidly, determined not to miss a drop, and for once it had nothing to do with fear of being punished.

He wanted so badly to make it perfect. Even if there was no way the guy would see if he failed or succeeded, even if there was no reason why the hell he’d even care how a casual blow job from a faceless, nameless stranger ended. Just for a few seconds, Willis wanted to believe he was good enough to make it perfect for another man.

The guy’s hips stilled, but he didn’t immediately pull away. Even if it hadn’t been perfect, at least the orgasm had been good enough to take his breath away. Willis heard the other man drawing in deep lungfuls of air as he recovered. Willis stayed pressed up against the barrier between them, letting him soften gently in his mouth, suckling tenderly around his cock, drawing out the moment for as long as he could.

“Good boy.”

Before Willis even had time to relish the words, the other man pulled away, his shaft quickly disappearing back through the glory hole. Willis sat back on his heels. He couldn’t remember the last time kneeling in that gloomy little space had left him hard. Pressing the heel of his palm against his straining fly, he quickly wished away his erection before anyone could notice it and set about reminding him that wasn’t supposed to be there for his own pleasure.

When he heard the other man unlock the door into the adjacent space, Willis remembered that his job wasn’t quite finished. Scrambling quickly to his feet, he managed to open his own cubicle just in time. The guy already had the door leading into the club half open, but he looked over his shoulder as Willis stared across at him.

It wasn’t a crowded room, but their eyes did meet across it. The other man was older than Willis and darker. He was taller and broader across the shoulders too.

The larger man smiled slightly. Willis found himself smiling back, somewhat shy now that he was face to face with the man he’d just gone down on. The guy didn’t say anything before he left.

As the door closed behind him, Willis leaned his temple against the cubicle door. He barely had a moment to close his eyes and memorize the smile before the door into the club swung open again.

Phil, one of the doms who worked for Willis’ master, stood in the doorway. Willis waited for a command, to see if he was going to be ordered back into the cubicle, or if his master had other plans for him now.

“Out,” Phil ordered with a jerk of his head. He grabbed hold of Willis’ arm as he led him through the main rooms of the club. Pain shot through his shoulder, as the dominant half dragged him into another, rather different, back room on the other side of the building.

His master, Marshall, sat on a high backed chair at the far end of the room. Phil pushed Willis forward until he stumbled and fell to the floor at his master’s feet.

”Rawlings just left,” Phil reported.

Willis pulled himself up onto his knees, settling his hands behind his back, presenting himself the way he’d been trained, as the other men spoke over his head.

“You made sure he got a good look at you?” Marshall asked, as he turned his attention to Willis.

Keeping his eyes on the carpet in front of his master’s feet, Willis nodded.

“He’ll recognize you if he sees you again?”

Willis nodded again. “Yes, sir.” He tightened his hands into fists behind his back, praying his master wouldn’t guess how his heart rate kicked up a notch at the idea of being allowed to see the other man again.

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