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Restroom Encounter III

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[He continues smiling as he does so, and just for a moment, only a moment, I could have sworn he looked at me…]


As the compression shorts brush slowly past, they shut out the light once more and squeeze the hairy mounds together. The air hadn’t yet cleared from my previous ordeal and the new elastic wall only serves to trap that awful smell. I feel my eyes water in the heat and heavy air, as the blond hunk begins to move once again. I hear a clunk and feel him rise as he mounts what I can only assume to be a piece of gym equipment. I hear the machinery hum into life beneath me and the titan’s thighs start brushing rhythmically back and forth. The speed gradually increases and I go limp in despair. He must be on a bloody treadmill! As he breaks into an all-out run, I find myself squeezed and jerked from left to right, becoming dizzy and confused. I close my eyes and try to focus on anything I can, in an attempt to escape this rough handling. I find myself dwelling on the events in front of the mirror, this guy clearly gained some kind of sadistic pleasure from what he’d let escape his helacious arse - and I couldn’t help but believe he knew that I was there. No, surely not, I argue with myself. But my gut tells me otherwise. Why would anyone do that? Surely he didn’t have anything to do with my shrinking? I’d encountered him quite by coincidence… hadn’t I?

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