“But remember–”
“I know,” Mia replied easily. She watched but said nothing as he got dressed, opened the stall door, and left. He’s never been an avant-garde fan, can’t stand her band’s music…but the first time he ever laid eyes on Mia was at another performance months ago when he was at another bar and her band came onstage. Stan snapped back to reality, watching as Mia held more firmly onto the toilet tank, bracing herself for his entry. Stan felt a pang of remorse, but the almost painful pressure of his cock straining against the inside of his jeans for release quickly brought him back to reality: do the deed now, or give up and regret it forever. He pushed her forward with his own body, shoving her against the toilet seat’s tank, the punishment of her stomach colliding with it knocking the wind out of the young Asian woman’s sails, and making her fall to her knees atop the closed seat cover. It wasn’t until the sound of a cell phone ringing emanated from Mia’s skirt
