He swung the door open and looked inside. Quiet. No feet under the stalls. He ducked into one. He tapped a message into his phone. Moments later, the door opened again. He tapped his foot twice. She ducked into the next stall. “I only have a minute,” she whispered.
“That’s ok. This will only take a minute,” he said.
“A minute? Somebody got you worked up.”
“Deliveries always get me worked up.”
“You were already worked up.”
“Yes. Yes I was.”
“Shhh! Not so loud. Somebody might hear.”
“There’s nobody here but us,” he said. “This whole floor is only half occupied. And today is Friday.”
“I know, but still. What if somebody comes?” She trailed off.
“Somebody?” He laughed. “Somebody’s gonna come alright.”
“Someone else.”
“They can come too if they want to.”
“Degenerate bastard. I knew you were going to say that.”
“It’s alright. I’ll be quiet. You know me,” he said.
She snickered. “I do. You’re a pervert.”
“And yet. Here you are.”
“And yet. Here I am. And here I sit. You have it in your fist already, don’t you?”
“I do. I had to.”
“Is it hard?’
“Like a damn rock.”
“Is it wet?”
“Yeah. Very.”
“Good. Are you…pumping it already?”
“I can’t help it. Yes.”
“Does it feel really good?”
There were a few quiet smacking noises in the silence. A sigh. “Extremely.”
“I can hear you, you know.”
“I know.”
“Filthy bastard. You like it when I can hear it.”
“And you like it too.”
There was a long quiet moment and the rhythmic wet noises seemed to echo on the tile. “I do,” she sighed.
“Show me, then.” he said. “Hurry.”
“Hurry?”
“Yes. Hurry.”
“Oh, my. An urgent need.” There was a rustle of fabric and a swoosh of satin. After a moment her hand appeared under the divider wadded with girlish silk. “Here, then.”
He took her panties from her hand with body warmth still clinging to the fabric. A slight whiff of perfume. And something else.
“Mmmm,” he muttered. “Fire engine red today.”
“It seemed appropriate somehow,” she said.
“Appropriate?” he snickered. “I beg your pardon. There’s nothing appropriate happening here.”
“No, I suppose not. We don’t have much time. Are you going to…umm…”
“…use them? Yes. Yes I am.”
“Now? Right now?”
“In a minute or two.”
“You’re all backed up.”
“I am. I’m leaking already.”
“You better let it out then.”
“Heavens, Miss. These undergarments are already soaked.” There was a long snuffling sound.
“As you can see, I needed to take them off anyway.”
“As I can smell, you mean.”
There was a pause. “That too.”
“What kind of filth have you been thinking about?”
“I’ve been thinking about a certain panty pervert I know. About hand-delivering my panties to him. About what my smell does to him. About how he’ll use them. ”
“And what else?”
“And about…getting them back. Seeing the result. The mess.”
“My mess.”
“Our mess. Yes.”
“A big mess?”
“Huge,” she sighed. “For me.”
The smacking noises grew louder in the reverberant room. “I can’t hold it.”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Let it all out.”
“Where?” he hissed.
“You know where. You’ve got them in your hand.”
“Say it.”
“On my wet spot. Where I was sitting all morning. Where I was leaking. Thinking about you, about this.”
The smacking noises slowed and stopped. A series of quiet grunting snorts came from his side. After a moment he was quiet again, and gave a long sigh of relief. “Mercy.”
“Better?” she asked.
“Yes. Better.”
“Good. I like helping you feel better.”
“Do you want to see how much better?”
“Show me.”
Her hand appeared under the divider. He folded the fabric and dropped them into her hand.
A sharp intake of breath came from her side. “They’re heavy. You fucker. You were full, weren’t you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize for…for that.”
“I should have taken my shoes off. My toes are cramped from curling so hard.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Jesus. Look at all that. You really needed it, didn’t you?”
“I did. I’m sorry.”
“I said, don’t be sorry. I like…I like getting you worked up that way. I like…helping you.”
“I know. But I still feel….”
“Making your toes…curl.”
“It’s just…”
“Shhh. Hush. Don’t ever….” There was a long pause as her voice trailed off for a second. In the quiet an urgent rhythm could be heard.
“Don’t ever what?” he asked.
There was a long pause and a gasp. “Apologize,” she finally forced out.
“Are you…?”
“…yeah.”
“Right now?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Please do.”
“Here I go,” she muttered quietly, holding her breath as the release built between her legs.
“Let it go. Hard.”
In the silence there was a slight trembling rustle of fabric and a shoe skittering slightly on the tile. One muffled grunt and a series of snorts echoed from the walls.
“Jesus.”
After a long pause she exhaled shakily. “I needed that.”
“Hard one, huh?”
“Yes. *Whew*. Very.”
“Feel better?”
“Much better.”
“I know. I can tell. I’m glad I could be of service.”
She giggled a little with relief.
“How about some laundry service, you bastard? You violated my underwear here.”
“Me? I just hit the target you left, Miss. We both violated your underwear.”
“This is true. But I did need to take them off anyway.”
“Give ’em here. I’ll wash ’em up.”
“Eventually,” she said, handing them back under the stall.
He laughed. “Yes. Eventually.”
“But you’ll inform me of any further…violations, yes?”
“In lurid detail.”
“Wrap those up nice and neat. You wouldn’t want anything…seeping out.”
“Oh, they’re already tucked away. Nice and neat.”
“And available at a moments notice.”
“A moment of urgent need. Yes.”
“It’s always urgent with you.”
“It is. I’m—”
“Stop saying that. You are not sorry and I don’t want you to be.”
“Ok. I’ll stop.”
“Well.”
“Well then.” The sounds of clothing and snaps echoed on the tile. “You first or me first?”
“You. It’s supposed to be the men’s room after all.”
“Alright. Back to work then.” She heard him exit, the door swishing closed. In a moment, her phone beeped. “All clear,” the text said.
She stepped out just in time to see a flash of dress slacks disappear around the corner. Discrete, anonymous and dirty. It worked for both of them.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/f6c9yt/in_the_stalls