Public Restrooms

6 Jul

I’ve never been one to submit to the odd grope in the toilet.  PDA?  Sure, who hasn’t done that.  And what person hasn’t found themselves HAMMERED outside a bar during her college years and ended up making out with someone then blacked out and not remembered it and then 8 people tell her the next day they saw her making out with the weird looking ginger right after midnight?  I mean, come on now, that’s a common occurrence, right??

Monsieur le Baguette has shared seedy stories from his past which include receiving oral pleasures in the middle of a packed bar and then banging the chick in a vestibule.  Romance.

Since we started dating a few months ago he’s tried, repeatedly, to romance me in public restrooms.  He’s been denied, repeatedly.  When I met his friends a few months ago he dragged me into 2 different bathrooms and suggested we do all sorts of naughty things.  I, being the absolute lady I am, politely declined and left him there on his own.

You can imagine his surprise when on Monday, while we were in a upscale establishment during our UK holiday together, I returned from the restroom and told him it was very private and we’d never get caught.  “Are you kidding me?” he asked.  “Nope, it’s very secluded, no one would even know we were in there,” I replied.  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked.  I smiled and replied, “just thought you should know, in case you wanted to go…”  He practically jumped out of his chair and dragged me back there.

Fast forward to 30 seconds later when we’re in the secluded bathroom.  A romantic setting for a rendezvous.

I’ll skip over some of the details.  Let’s just say there were pants around ankles when someone started pulling at the door handle.  “They’ll go away,” I whispered to him.  So we went back to what we were doing (or attempting to do).  A few minutes went by and we could suddenly hear a lot of people outside the bathroom.  “Shhh,” he said, “just keeping going.”  We did.  And then the rattling of the door knob started again.

Awesome.

“We’re going to have to leave,” he said.  At which point we had to come up with the plan of how we were going to exit.  We’d wait a few minutes until it quieted down a bit, then he’d walk out first, I’d skip a beat, and then follow.

Out he walked into the light of day.  “Excuse me,” I heard him say to someone as I closed the door behind him.  30 seconds later I pulled the door at the exact moment the cleaning lady was pushing the door.  She clearly didn’t realize there was anyone else in the single bathroom.  It was evident by the spectacular look of shock and horror on her face when I popped out and said, “hello,” as I brushed past her and kept walking.  Poor woman.

Absolute fucking disaster.

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