Find the staff toilets

I didn’t think about it for too long.

I stood up, adjusted myself as best I could, and headed back inside. Instead of going to my desk, I walked straight to the toilets at the end of the corridor. The door clicked shut behind me and I locked myself in the end cubicle.

The lighting was shit, but it would do.

I undid my belt and pulled my pants down just enough, then sat on the closed toilet lid. My cock was already rock hard, straining against my underwear. I pulled it out, thick and heavy in my hand, the head flushed and leaking a little from how worked up I’d gotten reading all the messages.

I opened the camera, angled the phone down, and took a photo — just my hard cock in my fist, work pants around my thighs, the cubicle door visible in the background. Risky as hell.

Then I took a short video, slowly stroking myself once, twice, the wet sound of my hand moving filling the small space.

I didn’t overthink it.

I sent the photo and video straight to my cousin.

Then I sent the same ones to the goth girl.

And then, after a second’s hesitation, I sent them to Alice too.

The replies started coming in almost immediately.

My cousin was the first.

Cousin: “Holy fuck. You’re actually hard at work in the toilets because of me?”

She followed it with a photo of her own — her hand down the front of her leggings, fingers clearly between her legs.

The goth girl sent a voice note, her voice low and teasing.

“Fuck, baby… look at you. Mommy’s very proud. Keep stroking for me.”

Alice’s reply was simpler, but it hit just as hard.

Alice: “You’re in the work toilets right now sending me your cock? That’s so fucking hot. Don’t stop.”

I sat there on the toilet, cock still in my hand, breathing hard as more messages started rolling in.

My break was almost over.