Footslave Fantasy: Public Convenience

The cottage is quiet at closing time. One chav lad's been hanging about the cubicles all night, waiting for a knock. It comes. Gloryhole duty, and he takes it like he's done it a hundred times before, right there in the grubby cubicle with the smell of the place thick around him. Then the door swings open and the tall stranger's had enough of the separation. He drags the lad out of the cubicle and puts him where he wants him, down on the cold public toilet floor, serving his feet first. Worn trainers peeled off, damp socks shoved in his face, then bare soles and toes worked over with tongue and mouth until the lad's earned his keep. Only then does the lad get back on his knees, taking everything the stranger's got, face used hard and deep until he's rewarded with a hot, heavy finish he swallows like a good foot bitch should. Filthy public bog filth. Gloryhole service. Sweaty feet served on a dirty floor. One chav lad who knows his place and one stranger who puts him in it.