I said fuck it; I went into the stall next to him and pulled out my dick. After all these times, I learned to go slower to make the experience last. I pulled it out, put a little spit on my hand and began to massage the head. It felt so good as I would rub the tip and go down to the base and back up. I was in there enjoying myself for maybe five minutes when all of a sudden, a hand comes underneath the stall. A white hand.As I was not at all familiar with cruising (look it up), I had no idea what was going on. I thought what an idiot to have sat in there this whole time and just realize you do not have any toilet paper. But he wasn’t just holding his hand there, he was motioning me over. It took longer than I care to admit for me to realize what he was asking. I kneeled on the floor and got closer to the divide and moved my dick closer. He reached out and grabbed it and began stroking it. I had never been touched by another man, but the feeling of his warm hand on my dick felt. It tells me when you’re around?” She blushed and looked down. She handed the Thingy back to me. It stopped ringing so much and just kind of dinged its bell every second or so, like a pulse monitor hooked up to an excited person. “Who else?” “What do you mean?” “Does it just… do things like ringing… for people you know?” “Well, no. I don’t know you, do I?” “No…” “I’m Jacob.” I extended my hand. “Cynthia.” She shook it. Score one for the home team. “I meant, what kind of people does it ring for?” “Umm. Women.” “Just women? Never men?” “That’s right.” It was my turn to blush. “This is some kind of joke, right?” I put the Thingy down on the seat next to her, holding it with two fingers so she could see I wasn’t doing anything to it. “Pick it up and fiddle with it. If you can figure out how to make it stop ringing, tell me. I swear to god I don’t know how it works.” She picked it up and its ring started to sound like a fifty-pound cat purring into a megaphone. “I mean, this has got to be.
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