Go in to the middle cubicle and wait
From Create Your Own Story
You step inside and close the door behind you. The walls are covered in graffiti—crude drawings of cocks and scribbled phone numbers. One, freshly scrawled on the back of the door, reads: *Italian daddy dick needs sucked. Call me.* As you fumble with your jeans, your eyes catch two large glory holes on either side of the stall. Your pulse quickens—every filthy rumor about this place was true.
Then, movement. On the left, someone presses their denim-clad bulge against the hole. You can’t see much, but the outline suggests something thick, straining against the fabric. What do you do :
