Am I a Pig or What? (3)

One day my honey and I decided to go out for lunch to a little restaurant chain called Great Wraps, up in Buckhead. Now I have confessed to everyone how I crotch watch, and on this day in particular I was really “in the mood” so of course my eyes are on high alert!

We got up to the counter, placed our order, and then sat down and waited for our food. You must know that Atlanta is full of eye candy. It’s really hard to go anywhere and not have something yummy to look at. As we chit chatted about this and that, I looked over to my right and saw this guy sitting four or five tables away. He was kind of a regular-looking guy - nothing to write home about. I mean, he was by no means ugly or anything, but still I wouldn’t have picked him out of a crowd. So anyway, I noticed he was looking directly at me. Now you know how sometimes you can think someone is looking at you but then you discover they were actually looking over your shoulder at something or someone behind you. No mistake this time, he was definitely looking at me.

I have this little thing I do when I know someone is looking me over. I say ‘thing’ because I’m not sure what to call it or how I came to do this, but when I know for sure someone is looking at me, I will stare him down until they look away. They always look away. I dunno. Maybe it’s some sort of power trip for me to know they looked away first, but this guy was obviously challenging me. I remember thinking, ‘Damn. This guy isn’t looking away.’ I finally gave in after a good ten seconds of “you look away, no you look away.” I sat in utter disbelief. That stupid mofo got me to look away! I was stunned, all the while my man is sitting across from me completely oblivious to any of this going on.

Now Great Wraps is a small restaurant, with high tables so you can clearly see a person from the waist down even if they are sitting. As I was recovering from my defeat, I glanced under the table where the guy is sitting at and could not believe my eyes. What the guy lacked in looks, he more than made up for in was in his running pants. I was just overwhelmed with everything so I decided I needed to go wash my hands. While I soaped up my hands, I looked in the mirror trying to process everything that had happened. I lost a staring contest, and the guy I lost to is packing some heat. Just then the door opened, and who comes in? Of course, the guy. Now we all know from last week’s column how I am in public restrooms. So as the guy was trying to piss, I was straining my retina trying to look out of the corner of my eye to see the goods. I couldn’t see anything but his stream so I gave up, dried my hands and left.

Great Wraps was particularly busy this day, so when I returned to the table our food still had not come. The bf and I once again engaged ourselves in idle chit chat, but I couldn’t help but steal another quick glance under the other guy’s table. Once again I was dumb-founded because this time when I looked, the guy had his legs spread so wide I could actually make out the veins in his dick. I glanced up at the guy and once again find him looking at me dead in the eye.

Trying to keep my cool in the situation was difficult. I mean I’m bold and all but this guy was whipping my ass hands down. Trying not to let on to the bf despite the very clear signals I was receiving wasn’t at all that hard because—bless his heart—he just doesn’t think they way I do. I am constantly thinking ‘dick,’ and he is constantly thinking.... well...he’s a flight attendant for Pete’s sake. What do you expect? (Sorry babe, you know it’s true.) Okay, so this guy was obviously hungry for more than a wrap, and I decided he needed a mouth-full of Scott Bradley. I fake a juicy sneeze and flit off to the restroom to wash my hands again. Normally I would have wiped my hands on my jeans, but I needed a reason to go back into the restroom to see what this guy was made of. In my head I was thinking, ‘If I get up and go back into the restroom, he is going to follow me.’

Am I good or what? The guy indeed took the bait and followed me, only this time instead of washing my hands I stand in front of the urinal. The restroom was small: had a toilet, a urinal, and a sink. No divider between the urinal and the toilet. I also noticed earlier the door had a lock on it. Hehe.

Ok, so I was standing there and the guy came in. He stood in front of the toilet. My heart raced 90 miles an hour. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see it play like a very loud broken record in my head. My stream was starting to weaken and I figured if I’m going to make a move I better do it fast. I looked over at the guy and Man’O’Man I was right. The guy was housing an anaconda in his pants. He looked up at me and this time I don’t look away. I shook dry, and stepped back from the urinal. He followed suit and turned toward me stroking his cock (which at this point was semi hard). SCORE! I turned and pushed the button on the door handle to lock the door and dropped to my knees. He let out a quiet moan and dropped his head back the way guys do when you’re blowing them. I pulled out his dick to get a good look at it and he reached down, pulled me to my feet, took my rock hard cock into his throat. In my head I am thought, ‘I have never been this hard in my life.’ I’m not sure if it was the fact I was in a public restroom and at any moment someone could try to come in, or what, but this was one of those moments that, as a performer, I’m was like, “Damn! Where are the cameras now?!”

The guy got back to his feet and then pushed my head down to his meaty rod. He was running his hands up and down my back and managed to reach back to play with my hole. As he pressed his finger against my swollen pucker, the reality of what was taking place set in. I told the guy we should probably leave and I asked him for an e-mail address so we could connect another time and finish what we started. He agreed and gave me his e-mail address.

I composed myself and went back out to the table. Our food finally arrived so I sat down and began to eat. Half-way through our meal I told the bf what happened earlier. “Shut-up!” were the first words out of his mouth. It was his turn to sit in disbelief. He could not believe he had sat there the whole time without a clue of what had been going on. “Why does this stuff never happen to me?” he asked. I just laughed. What was even more hysterical was the fact that after telling him the story, he got wood. That’s not saying too much because the boy can get hard if the wind changes direction, but it was still funny because we were in public.

So that’s my story. I ended up forgetting the guy’s e-mail address so we never met again. But he gave me a damned good story to tell! I am amazed I have not already shared this with you. Better late than never I suppose. To all the guys in Atlanta who may read this, if you see me out and about and you are feeling a little dirrrty, keep a close watch to see if I pop into a restroom. Better yet, don’t wait for me to go, just get my attention and I’ll follow you. HAHA!