Time to meet Summer, but let's stop by the bathroom first.

You figure stopping to use the bathroom might be a good thing to do. Not to mention, you think you should wash up, so you don’t smell like the local strip club when you meet up with Summer.

You walked into the bathroom and looked around. It was empty and inconspicuous with all the same lighting from the lobby, perhaps a little more natural and clear to prevent any accidents from happening inside.

Before washing your hands anything else, you walk over to the last stall and lock the door behind you. Plastered along the walls are graffiti. At first, you regard it as patron vandalization, but when you start rereading, however, you find that it’s just part of the décor.

A steady stream of urine flows out of you, and you sigh. Then, finally, a wave of relief and the subtle sound of splashing pushes out the white noise. Meanwhile, your eyes start wandering over the words on the walls; it’s nonsense mostly, but it’s kind of entertaining.

Tired, you let out a long yawn and glance down. The last time you seriously thought about pee was when Alexandra pissed all over you during your brief yet memorable night with her. You pucker your lips and shift your weight, changing the direction of where your piss is going to pass the time.

Once you’re done, you tuck yourself away and then glance to your right and notice there’s something you missed... There’s a small, fist-sized hole in the wall, smoothed out with soft fabric, perhaps some kind of carpet or blanket. You squat down and study the wall. You deduct it is a glory hole step away. You didn’t want to see a dick coming out of it, so you stood up and left. However, just as you unlock the door to the cubicle, a voice calls out.

“Wait,” it’s a woman’s voice for sure. So you pause and turn around. There’s only one place where that voice could have come from. Around the glory hole, fingers were holding onto the edges of the port. “Didn’t you come in here for me?”

You look around and shift your legs. “Uh…Ivy?” you ask the mysterious figure, who is now tapping their fingers.

“No. I’m not Ivy. She and I don’t even work the same positions. But, she knows about me and my,” the girl behind the wall giggles. “About me and my little hole here.”

‘You two friends then?” You inquire—another giggle.

“Yes, sir. We’re friends. And just like her, I take tips, but not just the tip if you get the drift~.”

“I get your drift.”