Bullheaded

for the restroom. It smelled of disinfectant but was surprisingly clean, with a row of white sinks, urinals, stalls, and farther back, shower rooms with pay slots in the doors. He set his kit on one of the sinks and crossed to the urinal where a man in a suit was already standing.
    Idly wondering why a man wearing a full-on suit with his shirt buttoned to the neck and his tie perfectly in place well after business hours would stop here at this time of night, Johnny took care of his business.
    As he shook off, he glanced up to see the man in the suit trying to catch his eye in the mirror. Purposely, the man dropped his gaze to his cock. Normally Johnny would have zipped up and fled, but he was curious to see if this was a blatant come-on or a misunderstanding on his part. Resolutely, he wouldn’t allow himself to think about Cody, but stories of his restroom encounters were swirling in the back of Johnny’s mind.
    The man looked so normal, so mainstream. After traveling in bull-riding circles for most of his adult life, Johnny found it hard to read a man so far outside his normal experience, but then the man looked up at his face again and jerked his head toward one of the stalls before going inside and closing the door partway. There was no mistaking the invitation.
    Johnny was surprised to find that not only was he hard, he was standing out in the open fondling his own dick while trying to decide whether to follow. The man was older, maybe in his early forties, with a shaved head and a body meaty with muscle under the well-cut suit. Despite the man having thirty pounds on him, Johnny wasn’t afraid of him. He could handle himself. He just wasn’t sure this was what he wanted, a casual suck-off at a rest stop, although at least the restroom was clean.
    What if somebody else came in? What if Vern or Reese felt the call of nature again and interrupted? That’d be the end of Johnny traveling with them. Hell, it’d be the end of the team or him being a bullfighter in the NBR.
    While his brain was spinning like a rabid hamster on a wheel, the stall door banged open, making Johnny jump.
    “You coming in here or what? I don’t have all night,” the man growled in a loud whisper.
    Well, who could resist a sweet-talker like that? Besides, a blowjob was a blowjob. Johnny entered the stall to find the man sitting on the seat, his pants around his ankles, hand wrapped around his short, thick meat. With his free hand, he reached around Johnny to lock the door. Then the businessman grabbed Johnny’s ass cheek and pulled him closer.
    “You clean? I am,” the man said and licked his lips, staring at Johnny’s erection.
    “Um, what? Oh, yeah, I—”
    The man’s mouth enveloped Johnny’s cock instantly, flooding it with wet heat. The man’s eyes closed and he moaned, gobbling the length in hunger until he gagged and withdrew.
    Johnny braced his hands on the walls and hoped no one would come in and look under to see four feet in the stall, one pair in cowboy boots, because he didn’t think he could move except for the flexing of his hips. The man licked up and down Johnny’s shaft before slurping it in again, his stubble rough when he scraped it against Johnny’s belly.
    Johnny began to thrust harder, aware of the frenzied action of the man’s hand on his own cock. The other hand was still gripping his cheek, fingers digging in as if the man feared Johnny might bolt before he got what he came for. He felt sorry for the guy when he pulled off and rubbed his cheek against his cock, as if he didn’t get this chance often, before diving in to swallow it again.
    Johnny couldn’t believe he was doing this, in some stall with a random stranger, but somehow that made it all the hotter. He wanted it fast and dirty so he didn’t have to think. When he felt the familiar pulse in his belly, he couldn’t hold back. The man managed to take him in deep, and the feeling of hot, tight throat muscles around the head pushed Johnny to the brink.
    “I’m gonna—”
    Before he finished his sentence, the man pulled off, released his butt, and used his hand to jack Johnny in time to his own stroking until he shot over the man’s face.
    “Nice cock,” the man grunted. He swiped at the strings of come on his face and wiped his fingers with toilet paper.
    Dazed, Johnny looked down to see the man had shot also, leaving a white puddle on the tiled floor and his own expensive shoes.
    Hastily, Johnny wiped off with toilet paper,