Picture Request – 6×6 Matrix: Orgasm #4 – FAIL

Up to this point, Orgasms 1, 2 and 3 had gone down pretty seamlessly.
Number 4 was my first FAIL.

Orgasm #4 – FAIL

1. 6 orgasms in one day – #4
2. 6 different hours of the day – 5:20 PM
3. 6 different locations – Gas station, somewhere off Hwy 55, north of Memphis
4. 6 different positions – On the toilet in the gas station bathroom
5. 6 different masturbation toys – My Njoy Pure Wand
6. 6 different kink accessories – Chains connected to my cunt rings
I have a thing about being made to do nasty things in bathrooms. Probably goes along with my whole bodily-fluids issue.  Add to that memories of the many nasty gas stations bathrooms I have encountered in road trips back and forth across our fine nation, and you have the makings of a hot set-up (one of my dirtiest fantasies is to be shoved down on a dirty, nasty, mens’ bathroom floor (or maybe even into that disgusting pee trough they used to have in them? – EWW!) – and fucked by a couple (or maybe 12) men, then pissed on and left. Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t confess to how thoroughly disgusting and twisted some of my fantasies are.) Anyway…!
This wasn’t it.
While the idea was hot…(go in the bathroom, wearing your chains, and fuck yourself on the toilet)…the implementation didn’t quite work out the way we planned.

My first indication that this wasn’t going to work was the sheer number of people in the aisles of the store. I am not such an exhibitionist that I don’t care if people see my perversions…I love the idea of wearing something that might be visible, like the tit collars, or that is only known to my Owner and I, like a buttplug, but I really don’t like freaking the ‘nillas out. Especially when there are kids around.
And there were…like 5 or 6 of the little monsters, milling about, whining for candy, and generally freaking me out a bit.
Still, I did as told and went into the bathroom, my face (I am sure) burning.
The condition of the bathroom was my second clue that things were not quite what I had envisioned.

Not exactly the dirty bathroom fantasy I had in my head (nor W’s, as he confirmed later.)
But I tried anyway.

There was just no way it was going to work.

1. I couldn’t manage the Njoy, and keep the chains from either clanking against and the porceline or falling into the toilet while diddling myself.
2. Keeping the chains from clanking became absolutely necessary when one of the store patrons came in – dragging in her whining, sniveling kid with her.

Still, I figured if I could get off without the Njoy, it would still be a win. I held the chains with one hand and began to “do the deed” with the other. From the other side of the stall came the following conversation:
“Wait, Tommy, just hang on, Mommy’s gotta go pee.” <Sounds of fussing, whining kid.>
“No, Tommy! Don’t put your hand there!” <More whining.>
“Don’t open that door!”
“Put your wee-wee back right now, young man! It’s not your turn yet. Lemme just finish poo-ing…”
That’s when I beat a hasty retreat.
But never fear, W ordered a do-over, once he and Ad had stopped laughing uproariously at my failure.