He should have felt guilty enough to stop, but the intense pleasure of her warm mouth on his cock drowned out his conscience. Neil leaned heavily against the cold painted metal wall of the stall, breathing in the sharp tang of cleaning chemicals and the heady musk of wet pussy. He shouldn’t have let this happen, but the girl was so cute, it was so easy, and fuck it, this felt so good! She knelt on the rust-colored tiles, her shoulder-length blond hair falling messily around her flushed cheeks, her head bobbing up and down on his shaft. Her blue eyes flicked up to meet his, shining with eager lust. Her jeans hung open, and Neil could hear the squishy sound of her fingers working her pussy in rhythm with her bobbing head. She swiped her tongue across the head of his cock, and Neil shivered, almost blowing his load. She was surprisingly good for someone who couldn’t have had much experience.

Neil knew it was wrong. He’d told himself this morning as he dressed that his clothes would stay on today. No recolorings. No making some woman eager to put his cock inside her. No more using women like they were disposable fuck dolls. Just a normal, average, boring day.

He’d meant it, too. He always meant it when his conscience scolded his libido. But his conscience was weak, and his libido was strong. His conscience was loud when he was alone in his hotel room. In public spaces, his libido responded to every woman he saw. It grew stronger with every pretty face, every sexy curve, every swell of tits beneath a shirt, every hint of cleavage, every delicate hand, pair of shapely legs, and set of pedicured toes. It smothered his conscience and pummeled it into silence.

The girl paused and pulled back, her lips glistening, her chest heaving. “Touch me,” she commanded, pulling up her shirt and bra. “Play with my tits.” They were small and firm and topped with stiff pink nipples.

Neil cupped her breast and rolled her nipple between his fingers. It was cute that the girl thought she was in charge. She gasped, the sound muffled by his cock. His manhood in her mouth and her small hand around his hard shaft were the reasons she and Neil were in this stall. It was his passing desire for her body, not her lust or pleasure, that had her wanting to suck him off in a bathroom stall, touch herself, and beg for his touch.

Neil had noticed the group of teenage girls while he was waiting for his coffee. Their loud giggling drew his attention, and their bodies held it. They were all dressed similarly in tight, low cut crop tops, shorts, and sandals. His conscience told him to be good and look away, but his libido kept him glancing at their toned thighs and flat stomachs, their pretty faces, their perky tits and deep cleavage, and their sexy, painted toes. He wanted them. Wanted to pull up their shirts and grope their tits, tug down their shorts and slide his fingers into their cunts, use every part of their bodies to make himself feel good. His libido reared up and gave his conscience a knockout punch, and his conscience hadn’t managed as much as a whisper of protest as it went down.

There were five of them sitting around the green café table, talking and laughing. He could have picked any of the girls to swallow his first load of the day. The blonde had happened to be drinking her coffee, and the way her pink lips pursed around the straw made Neil want to see them around his cock. He had contrived to stumble against her as he walked with his coffee from the counter to a table. A moment of skin-to-skin contact, his bare arm brushing hers, was all he needed.

Time stopped, and Neil saw a curtain of colored orbs which seemed to hang just in front of him, superimposed on the cafe. Long practice let Neil immediately identify the orb that represented the girl’s sexual energy, glowing a pale, subdued yellow. Neil recolored it to a bright throbbing orange. He zoomed in, and the orange ball split into dozens of orbs, displacing others in the curtain. He fiddled with their colors. They were small changes, and it would take only a few minutes for her to feel them. When she did, she’d be hornier than she’d ever been, with a specific, overwhelming desire to swallow cum and a predisposition to find Neil incredibly attractive.

The orbs disappeared, and time started again.

“Oh, sorry!” Neil said, feigning embarrassment.

“No worries,” she replied with a pretty smile. She continued her conversation with her friends, the guy who had momentarily bumped into her already forgotten.

Neil sat at a table in her line of sight and sipped his coffee. He could tell when she started to feel the changes. She licked her lips, her nipples stood out against her shirt, and a flush rose in her cheeks. After five minutes, she was stealing glances at him, squirming in her seat and pressing her thighs together. At ten minutes she was openly staring at Neil, her mouth open and her tongue writhing. She looked like a girl who was thinking about sucking his cock. She locked eyes with him, and he raised his eyebrows and smiled. He knew her pussy was dripping, and his cock was rock hard in his jeans. He glanced down suggestively at the bulge in his pants and back up at her. She nodded and stood abruptly, murmuring something to her friends. Neil waited a beat before following her.