After making his way through the narrow hallway, Maytag found the entrance to the men's room. On entering, he saw a line of sinks in front of him, and to his right a row of open stalls. A man stood in the first stall, one hand resting on the privacy panel jutting from the wall.
Following urinal etiquette, Maytag headed for a spot further down the row from the man, but not so far as to give offense. He kept his eyes forward, carefully avoiding untoward glances. Maytag stepped to the free stall, and found a problem. There was no urinal. There were three colored discs in the wall around waist height, with cables running from their centers to eyehooks rooted in the tiled wall, but no urinal.
Now Maytag had to acknowledge the presence of the other man in the room. "Excuse me," he said. "Is this the urinal?"
"No," the man grunted. "Around the corner." His voice was uneven, and Maytag wondered if he was all right. A more pressing concern was the pressure in his bladder.
Maytag scurried around a corner of the white tiled palace and found a more familiar lineup of plumbing. Quickly, he unzipped and fished out his johnson. He unleashed a furious stream and exhaled with satisfaction. While he pissed, he heard someone leave one of the toilet stalls behind him. From the corner of his eye he saw a figure with short, slicked hair in a black leather jacket turn the corner. After finishing, Maytag walked back to the sinks to wash his hands.
There, the man with the black leather jacket was combing his hair. The fellow who had been standing against the bare wall was gone. Maytag noticed that the sinks looked like those found in handicapped restrooms: a long, wide lip protruded far into the room, they had wing style faucet handles, and they were a bit lower to the floor than normal.
"Hey," the guy said to Maytag. He was running a wet finger over his eyebrows. The man wore dark pants and a iron gray shirt with wide lapels that flopped outside his leather jacket.
"Hello," Maytag replied. He reached over the long sink to grab soap and turn on the water.
The man in the leather jacket opened the faucet at his sink as well. Then he loosened his trousers, dropped them around his feet, and pulled his shirt tails away from his exposed genitals. Maytag lost all sense of bathroom etiquette, and watched with open-mouthed shock as the man used one hand to hold his clothes away from his body, and the other to soap up his flaccid cock and balls.
"You're new here, huh?" the man asked.
"Yes," Maytag said. "Sorry for staring."
"No problem," he laughed. "I'm Darius. You'll excuse me for not shaking your hand right now."
"Gerry. Please excuse me for not shaking anything of yours right now."
Darius laughed again. He looked at Maytag's suit and tie. "You're not a rent boy, are you? Back office?"
"More along the lines of security," Maytag replied.
"Well, this is standard procedure for the rent boys," Darius explained. "But you'll have to do it, too, if you want to use the glory hole."
"Damn, Gerry," Darius said as he turned off the water. "They didn't tell you anything did they?"
"Not really," Maytag answered.
A man stopped at a sink to wash up (hands only), and shook his head with a smile. "Tell him, Darius," he said before he left.
Darius pulled a paper towel from a roll next to the sink. He dried his swinging dick and nodded his head to the wall of bare stalls. "The glory holes. For us working stiffs, pardon the pun, it's a good way to get fluffed up before getting back in the saddle. For guys like you, and the valets, the bartenders, the kitchen staff, that is the best fringe benefit this place has to offer."
"How so?" Maytag asked.
Darius pulled up his pants and tucked away his money maker. "Just step up to the wall, pull out one of the plugs at a height that suits you, and then hang hose."
"That's it?" Maytag asked.
"There's also the buzzers. About shoulder height there's a yellow button and a red button. Press the yellow button to say, 'Get off me, I must be going now.' The red button says 'Watch out, I'll be coming now.' You can't talk through the wall, but those two things are all you really need to say. Either way, it's polite to give five to ten seconds notice."
Maytag thought about that for a second. "Do you use the yellow button?"
Darius laughed. "Well, you might think it's a waste, but I certainly use the yellow button. Don't want to waste it unless I'm getting paid for it." Darius slapped his hand on Maytag's shoulder. "Any other questions? I gotta get back to work?"
Maytag looked over at the wall. "Will there be anybody over there?"
"Sure. It just might take some time right now. If you're here later tonight, this place will be wall-to-wall with guys looking to get off or just get hard. Packed stables, just like Sydney likes it, you know?"
"I get the idea," Maytag said.
"Have fun," Darius said on his way out. "Don't forget to wash up first!"
That's how Maytag came to be hovering his midsection over a sink, with his necktie draped safely back over his shoulder and his jacket hanging on one of the thin stall walls by a glory hole. He lathered up his family jewels, and found that his prick was already rolling and expanding in his soapy hand.
It felt odd having his cock wet and soapy, and the rest of him dry. This simply wasn't the normal way of washing his crotch. He felt the need to giggle like a boy.
Maytag just about jumped through the roof when the door opened. In walked a skinny kid with an earring and a white apron. He remarked on Maytag's surprised expression. "New here, huh?" Before he even finished the question, the kid had his dick out in his hand, giving it a good quick wash with a lot of motion in his arm.
"Is it really that easy to tell?"
Maytag rinsed himself off. "I'm Gerry."
"Petey." He was rinsing and reaching for a towel. "I work in the kitchen."
"Security." Maytag said.
"Oh, so you get to watch on camera, huh? I have to settle for action on breaks."
As Maytag dried, the kid headed for the wall. He hurried to join Petey by the wall, in order to make sure he did things correctly. When Maytag got there, though, urinal etiquette took over, and he found himself looking straight ahead, anyway. He did manage to ask one question, though, as he pulled out the center disk and dropped anchor through the padded hole. "Will there be someone on the other side?"
"I sure as hell hope so," Petey said. "My break only lasts so long."
Maytag stood against the wall with his dick hanging over the padded lip of a hole in the wall. He held on to the stall wall, and lost himself in thought. His thoughts did not drift far from his current situation.
After all, he was in one room and his dearest associate was in another. There was no telling what could happen there. Maybe Petey could tell, but Maytag wasn't in an asking mood.
Brooding was more like it. He wondered if he was better off with his nuts on this side or not. With nuts on this side, they might get crushed against the wall somehow. They might miss out on the action. But it might feel funny to have them hanging over the thin wall. Vulnerable, too. Although, he was plenty vulnerable as it was.
Putting your dick through a wall, subjecting it to unknown activity, wasn't the smartest thing to do. He grew tense. He looked back over his shoulder, and saw the bathroom door. Escape was so close. All he had to do was leave.
Maytag wasn't sure if he felt it first or heard Petey moan first, but he was snapped out of his meditations in a heartbeat.
"Mpphh," Petey groaned. "That's what I'm talking about."
Whatever it was was cool and wet. Like sunscreen spread over his skin, only the feeling was along the length of his cock. Then a coiling, tightening wrap. Fingers. It had to be fingers gripping him, spreading the wetness, jerking him into a tight palm.
The sensation changed. This was not the familiar feeling of humping a closed fist. He felt stretched, pulled. Yanked.
There was a ring of pressure just behind the head of his cock, and then a strong tugging sensation. "Ohhh," Maytag moaned. He braced himself against the wall and held his breath to cope with the vigorous cock play. He punched at the wall with the side of his own fist.
Yet he was growing harder. He could feel it. For all the stretching and yanking, he was stiffening. He was being pulled until he seized up hard.
When he was hard, the familiar feel of the fist returned. It worked him up and down, wet and slick, and closed over his tip at the end of the stroke.
As abruptly as it had started, it stopped. Maytag felt a moment of disappointment and then he was jarred again. Wet warmth enveloped him. It began at the tip, then moved down his trunk.
Maytag thought he might be able to see the cause through the hole, but he did not want to pull his cock away. He guessed a sucking mouth for the source, but he really didn't care.
"Oh! That's fucking good," Petey cried. Maytag could not agree more.
The warmth pulled away, and he felt a small pressure point work over his shaft, top and bottom, side to side.
Then it cycled. More rubbing and tugging followed by the wet warmth that encircled him and pulled back gently on him. Lastly the feeling of a marble pressed against his tender flesh and rolled over its length.
Again, more of the same. Maytag thought he could come if only the pulling or the wetness would persist. But again the feeling switched to the singular point of pressure. Each time there was less rubbing, and more of the all encompassing heat. It had to be sucking.
Once more, with so much sucking. Only his physiology had learned that it might end at any point. Whereas before he wanted the sensation to last a little longer so he could reach release, his body had decided to accelerate the process. The pressure welled up in his balls, near his ass. His legs tensed. His climax was coming, there was no doubt.
Petey slapped a hand against the wall, and his upper body rocked. Maytag, too, was bucking his hips forward. Time to give fair warning.
"Oh, yeah!" Petey called. The kid reached for the red button. Maytag copied his movements.
The warning must have been made, because the warmth was replaced by solid stroking, an unmistakable five knuckle shuffle. Seconds later, Maytag was spurting off through the hole, and groaning with pleasure. His head collapsed against the wall.
Maytag pulled his cock from the hole and leaned against the wall for support. He wiped sweat off his forehead. He took a deep breath.
"God damn!" Petey said. He slapped Maytag on the shoulder. "That's something else, huh?"
"Unreal," Maytag replied.
"Pretty fucking sweet, is what I think," Petey told him. "That was so good, it had to be Sid."
"Sid?" Maytag asked.
"Or somebody that good," Petey said, "Well, back to work!"
"Yes," Maytag murmured. "Me, too."
The suntanned brunette with brown eyes looked at the fairer skinned brunette and her blue eyes. "As long as we're waiting for your partner to get back, would you join me for a drink?"
"Sure," Stanton said. "I'll just take a coffee."
"Manuel!" she called to the bartender. "Can we get two coffees."
"Right away, Miss Sydney."
"So," Sydney turned to Stanton. "What's your first thoughts of 'The Dog and Pony'?"
"I'm wondering how tough a commute from D.C. this would be," Stanton joked.
"So you like it?"
"Let's just say it has its appeals."
"Such as?" Sydney tried to lead her on.
"Oh, you know," Stanton said. "You have such wonderful strong black...coffee."
"Yes," Sydney grinned. "That's a personal favorite of mine, too. Would you like some dessert to go with that coffee? Something strong, black, and a little more solid, perhaps?"
"Chocolate?" Stanton asked.
"I had something else in mind for you."
"Duty calls," Stanton said. "Maytag should be back any second, and off we go to continue our Nevada fact finding. Only this time he'll be enjoying himself a little bit instead of me."
"You can't spare any time?" Sydney asked.
"Don't tempt me," Stanton said.
"Please! My whole business is built on temptation!" Sydney spotted someone and hailed him. "Manny, have you seen the man who was with us earlier?"
"Yes, Miss Sydney. I just saw him talking to Darius."
"Darius?" Stanton asked.
"Talented young man," Sydney said with a smile. She dismissed Manny. "Maybe your partner is picking up pointers."
"Ha! I'll bet he's interrogating him on your business."
"Agent Maytag is diligent, then?"
"When Maytag finds an opening," Stanton said. "He dives right in."
"Well, if he's busy, then you have time for a little dessert."
They finished their coffee. Sydney did not want to press the issue, and Stanton was glad she didn't have to turn her down again. Nor did she get the chance. When they finished the coffee, Sydney simply took Stanton by the hand. "He's still gone," she said. "Come with me."
"Manny!" she called over her shoulder. "Hold him here if he comes looking for us!"
"Of course, Miss Sydney," he yelled back.
Sydney stopped walking when they reached an archway blocked by strands of beads. Over the arch was a neon sign that read, 'Taffy Room'.
"Now," Sydney said. "I can't promise you anything, because things may be slow right now. But at night, this place is buzzing. We charge the ladies a little for this, but not for valued customers. It's more of a warm-up for the clients. For everyone really."
"OK," Stanton said. "What is it?"
"You'll see. I hope you'll see, anyway." She ducked her head through the beads, and came back with a smile. "We're in luck!"
They walked through the hanging strands together. Plush, red carpeting covered the floor of the narrow room. Cushioned chairs lined one wall, while the other was covered in what looked to be soap and towel dispensers. The clear soap dispensers far outnumbered those for towels. Beneath the plastic wall hung units were numerous throw pillows. The room looked like a strange cross between a Bedouin lounge and a public restroom.
"Yes," Sydney said, "It's difficult to see the point with the room so empty. But take a closer look at the end there." She pointed to the far end of the room.
Stanton narrowed her eyes, which had adjusted to the darker room, and took a step forward. Then she saw them. Dispensers were not the only wall ornaments. Two dicks drooped inside the room from holes in the wall, spaced a few feet apart.
"I see now," Stanton said.
"C'mon," Sydney said. "Who knows how long these two have been waiting there." She walked over and settled herself on the floor, resting on pillows.
Stanton followed her example. Up close, she saw the wallpaper had a velvet texture, and a ring of red plastic and padding ran around the hole. In front of her was a circumcised, limp dick.
"Here's how it works," Sydney explained. She pointed to the dispensers. "You take a little lube, get him good and wet, then lick. If they want to leave, they'll flash a yellow light. If they're going to come you'll see a red light. Got it?"
"Yeah." Stanton looked at the dispenser. A hot pink logo labeled the contents as "Nectarz". "This isn't soap?"
"No, flavored lubricant. The Nectarz people give me a discount for the advertising."
"This is our taffy dessert, then?" Stanton asked.
"That's right," Sydney said. She pushed a dispenser lever back and took a handful of goop. Stanton copied her. "Now go for it!"
The two spread the thin jelly over the hanging pricks. They spread it top and bottom. "Now pull it like a taffy," Sydney said.
They did so, tugging on the marshmallow flesh, stretching them down and out. "Smells like peaches," Stanton said as she worked with her wrist.
"I have that, too," Sydney. "That's a good one. We'll try a couple."
Stanton felt the floppy flesh swell a bit in her hand. "I think this taffy is getting stiffer," she remarked.
"Mine too," Sydney said.
"Very stiff," Stanton said. Indeed, what had been hanging loosely was now fighting the women to stand straight out.
"Maybe time to see what the taffy tastes like," Sydney suggested.
Stanton and Sydney both pushed their mouths onto the greased cocks. When Stanton swiped her tongue around, she confirmed that the peach flavor was genuine. It felt like she was sucking a popsicle, but one warm on her tongue. Her own saliva mixed with the lube, and her mouth glided easily back and forth.
"Get it clean," Sydney said. "Some of these flavors don't mix very well." Sydney steadied the prick with her fingertips and ran the tip of her tongue all over it.
Stanton did the same, taking delight in rolling along the underside of the swollen shaft. When she could no longer taste peaches, she stopped. "Done."
"Try another," she said. Sydney was already slopping on a second coat. "Mmm," she said, licking a finger. "Tastes like root beer!"
"Sounds like a soda jerk!" Stanton joked. She worked a fresh coat onto her wall mounted flesh toy, spreading it all over with a tight fist. "I think this one is banana."
"I think he's just happy to see you," Sydney said.
They enjoyed a giggle and then went back to using their mouth's elsewhere. Their heads bobbed to and fro, and settled into a steady rhythm together. They even pulled off at the same time to use their tongues to wipe them clean. To an observer, it would have looked like synchronized cocksucking.
Stanton took a new flavor of lube and spread it on with her slippery hand. "Oh, I love cinnamon," she said.
"I have brandy," Sydney replied.
"That's not a kid's flavor!"
"This isn't kid's taffy!"
It looked less like taffy as well. The flesh at the heads of the cocks was swollen and red, and the residue of spit glistened. The organs resembled hard candy, licked lollipops.
Stanton and Sydney repeated the same motions, this time spending more time on the sucking. They were clearly getting better at stripping the goop away with their mouths and needed less tongue work afterward.
"This is the last flavor I have," Sydney said as she applied a dollop to the hard rod jutting from the wall.
"Me, too. I think this one's ready to burst soon, anyway."
Stanton's prediction proved accurate. The women sucked eagerly, and within a few bobs of their heads, both holes shone a bright red. Stanton and Sydney pulled away in laughter. They pumped with their fists. Stanton grabbed a towel from the dispenser and caught the white load, but Sydney took it square on the lips. Only when he was done spurting did she clean her mouth and chin.
The dicks deflated, then disappeared. Stanton and Sydney waved goodbye.
"Helluva place you have here," Stanton said as the agents prepared to take leave of the establishment.
"Thank you, Agent Stanton," Sydney replied.
"A pleasure meeting you," Maytag said.
"Likewise, Agent Maytag. I'll be sure to call you if I find myself up against the wall with the FBI." She winked.
Maytag coughed and Stanton stifled a grin. Then they looked at each other with a curious, puzzled expression. It was a very quiet car ride to their next stop.
Back to the Cabin