Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
First Edition: 2026
THE LAST STALL - UNLOAD
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced without written permission from the author.
This story is for adults only (+18).
All characters are adults.
You walk into the men’s restroom at the service area looking for a stall to take a shit.
The smell hits you at once: toilets used all day, dried piss on the floor, traces of shit no one cleaned properly, and that warm smell of dried cum that clings to the walls when someone shoots and leaves without looking back.
The door of the last stall is open.
You step closer and see him.
He’s sitting on the toilet.
He’s looking straight at you.
One big hand rests on his package, over the grey briefs, and he squeezes it slowly while he watches you.
He’s big.
Broad shoulders.
The thick white beard covers almost the upper part of his chest, dense and a little messy.
His torso is completely hairy: chest, belly, sides, all covered in grey and white hair that curls over hot skin.
The belly is thick, round, soft, and sinks a little over the elastic of the briefs.
The briefs are tight.
His package shows clearly under his own hand.
You look at his whole body.
You like what you see.
You like it too much.
You like the bulk, the hair, that belly that already looks hot just from looking at it, the way the briefs squeeze his balls and ride up a little on his thighs.
Your cock starts getting hard just from having him in front of you.
“Want to come in?” he asks in a low, deep voice, without letting go of his package.
You stay silent.
Your heart is pounding.
You think about what this man might like if you go in.
What he might want to do to you.
How much you’d like to drop to your knees right now and smell his crotch, touch that belly, pull out the cock he’s squeezing with his hand.
The need rises in your throat.
Finally you ask, almost under your breath:
“What do you like?”
He looks at you.
The smile doesn’t leave his mouth.
“I’ve been driving eight hours straight.
Haven’t come in two days.
So I’d like to unload.”
You step inside.
You close the door behind you.