(mh=UbqeDehVM7GDaKpm)1.jpg)
The dressing room's harsh fluorescent lights flicker overhead as he begins, the cool air contrasting the heat of his hand on his throbbing flesh. He pictures strangers, their eyes on him, unseen in the crowded space. His fist tightens, speeding up, the sound of skin smacking skin echoing. He's close, his body tensing, toes curling. With a gasp, he comes, painting the wall with his white, sticky release, the scent of sex briefly masking the room's usual aroma of leather and perfume.