Having lived around here for a while, I had, of course, heard about the infamous Canarsie Pier, and had (again, of course), checked it out a few times, but never during the supposed "peak" hours. This being Labor Day -- the last weekend of summer -- I decided I ought to get down there or spend all winter kicking myself in the ass for not going!
I procrastinated most of the evening, but finally got myself in gear about one in the morning. I got in the car, and after a very quick drive -- I live maybe a half a mile from the place -- I was there.
Just like the stories I'd heard, I decided to sit out in the car for a while to get a sense of who or what was going in and out the tearoom that serves as the center of action. Although a lot of stuff goes down (pun intended), in cars in the parking lot, it was reputed to be standard practice that you meet in the 24-hour mens room and, assuming you don't just do it there, you can go back to the car.
I sat there for a about an hour, and didn't see a whole heck of a lot going on. There were the usual trolls that would pull up in the big Cadillacs, go in and come back out right away, and the one or two hot guys that did go in -- attracting a small group that followed them right in -- came out just as fast. Eventually, I was going to give up, but had to take a whiz, so I decided to (gasp!) use the bathroom for it's god-intended purpose.
I got out of the car and walked toward the door, trying not to look too conspicuous; after all, I was sure I wasn't the only one sitting there keeping my eyes open! I walked over to one of the urinals - situated next to the two stalls - to do my business, and noticed a pair of sneaker-clad in the stall right next to me.
I did what I had to do, but finally curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned over, to get a better view through the gap between the wall and the stall partition. I couldn't see much, but the guy on the other side must have figured out what I was doing, 'cause he leaned back. I could, through the small gap, see a curly head of hair, a shoulder clad in a green-striped polo shirt, and that's about all.
I started to get hard, and thought I heard the door creak, so I pulled back and stood up again. As soon as I knew the coast was clear, I leaned forward again, peering once more through the small gap. This time it didn't take the guy very long to lean back, and this time he must have leaned a little further, since I could see one hazel eye and one half of a thin, dirty-blond moustache. That was all it took; my cock zoomed to it's full length, and I knew I'd hit paydirt, finally!
He picked me up hitchhiking, and I knew from the moment that I slid onto the seat why he had picked me up. I was returning from visiting my girlfriend at college. He was cruising for boys. I knew because of his eyes. They were wide open, as if they saw everything about me, but behind them there was only lust and begging. As soon as I he looked at me, I knew that I would let him.
I was goalie and well lets say most hockey players are sexy. Like always some of us shower after games and practices. "By the way im Mark 18 years old and im one of them punk kids you stay away from in school. SO as you can imagine im not loved by all. But i am cute. Standing five foot nine and two hundred ten pounds of goalie muscle. The rest is for you to imagine. (or so i thought).
Darryl was my first case, and I was eager to try out all the many theories I had in mind as to how to bring the handicapped out of their shell. I've often wondered about that assignment. Believe me, it occurred to me on the drive there, but of course, then it was too late to ask. He was handsome. Except....
I was 22 years old, light brown hair, blue eyes, about 5' 10, and weighed 165. It was a Saturday night in July and I was oh so horny. I made my way to the bathhouse on Halsted. After I found a parking spot, I entered the front door. The line was long, as usual for a Saturday night. There were no rooms available so I settled for a locker. I got my key and towel and was buzzed in.
As I drove by the adult bookstore, I noticed a really hot number get out of his pick up and head for the front door. The man was in his late-forties with blondish-grey hair & thick meaty arms. He was a short dude; about 5'6" with a dark blonde moustache and a solid stocky body and as he reached the door of the bookstore, he stopped to look up and down the street.
Recent laws have pretty much shut all glory-hole video stores, but if you look hard enough you can find them. I had stopped at a few places, but they either had security cameras or some local idiot watching over you. Well, I finally found the place, about 20 miles out of town in the burbs. Very small sign, open 24 hours the usual stuff.
That whole thing started on a Saturday afternoon, when I went to visit my friend. I didn't know it at the time, but he, his younger brother and his parents had left early in the morning to go to the beach. The only one at home was Tom, his older bother.
It was after 6 PM, and they had sneaked in to steal their furtive moments of pleasure. When they were done, they would sneak out, act like their straight friends and stay hard until they were able to do it again. The only light was from the sunset outside that entered from the high windows above.
It was hot, humid and sticky, and all I wanted to do was stay home in the air conditioning. . . so naturally, a friends have to invite me over for a party. I tried to get out of it, but it didn't work, and by mid-afternoon, I was wandering around Jim and Helen's "estate" out on the Island. Jim was a friend of mine from school who "made it big.
I held onto my dick and walked around the edge of the stall, to get a better look at my catch. Wow! Much better than I'd hoped for, and I have a habit of setting high expectations! The guy was about my age, or a little younger, good build, really handsome, a head of curly black hair, two nice, hazel eyes, his thin moustache... His pants were down around his ankles, his right hand wrapped around his cock, and he had a good tan, and really sexy tan lines around his waist and finely-haired legs.
I moved in a little closer to let him see my cock, and he reached up and took hold of it. Always a proponent of "a dick for a dick," I reached down and grabbed onto his stiff meat, rubbing it a few times and feeling his heavy balls. This guy was a real fucking hunk, a lot better than some of the ones I'd seen going in here tonight!
I let go of his dick when he sucked my hard rod into his mouth, and started bobbing his head up and down on it. I sure enjoyed it, and sagged against the stall wall, letting him work on my meat with his wet mouth and swirling tongue.
He did it for a few more minutes while I ran my hand through his curly hair, and then I noticed a pair of eyes peering over from the next stall. Slut that I am, I shifted position a little, raising myself up on my toes, and looked back. Another young hunk! Christ! And I'd been sitting out in the car for an hour looking for action while they were in here all the time!
As soon as he noticed I was looking over the wall, he sat back down on the seat - he was probably shy and embarrassed that he'd been caught, but it sure gave me a better view! He was a real Italian type, and had his pants down, shirt open, and legs spread, and I could just see the tip of the cock he was vigorously stroking. He seemed more content to watch me getting blown through the glory hole than participating himself, so I lowered myself back down and figured I'd let bachelor no. 1 suck me off and give the guy a real good show!
With him bobbing his head up and down on my cock and playing with my balls at the same time, and the young stud in the next stall jacking himself off watching me get blown, I was ready to pop in no time! I was so damned hot my knees were starting to shake on me! I let him suck a bit more, and when I finally couldn't hold back any more, I pulled my cock out of his wrapped my hand around it, and jacked myself, shooting a really big load on the stall wall while Mr. Mouth jacked himself off into the toilet. Hot fucking scene!
I never did find out what the Italian kid in the next stall had to offer; I had no sooner dumped my load and watched my new friend shoot off than I heard the outer door creak. I jammed my softening back back into my sweat pants and headed off before whoever it was got the right idea. Shame, too, since the new arrival was a really good-looking guy about 40 who looked like he had quite a bulge in his chinos.
I hope to find out soon whether there's any autumn action on the Pier.
I was hitchhiking up to San Francisco. I had hair halfway down to my ass and was deeply involved in hippiedom. I had some pot and some reds and I headed out to SF. I got a ride in Santa Barbara from this chick. Next thing I knew, we were in SF. So much for that.
You pull me into a tight hug, holding me close. I feel the rest of the world slip away. I bury my face against your neck and breath in your scent. I feel your beard tickle the side of my face. The only sound is our breathing. Gently, you touch the side of my face. I look into your eyes. I see nothing but love. We move closer to each other a millimeter at a time. Our lips meet softly. I am home.
Tom and Drew find out that they would both consider doing something with another guy, but who would have thought that the pool talk would actually turn into some sexy hardcore action. Who sucks who? Who fucks who?
As good as they were, I didn't know how special this day would turn out to be. Just off the food court of the terminal was the Mens' Room, a rather large Mens Room. It had the noisy double doors, and the main restroom was subdivided by having the twelve urinals and matching washbasins in the front portion, and trough the archway to the rear was the four sit-down stalls.
To continue, I first realized I had gay inclinations in high school, but I didn't act on them (out of ignorance and fear). When I moved out of the old home at age 19, though, I decided the time had come to explore.
I had just started college and wasn't having a good go at it. So one night I was at the campus library trying to study and had to take a piss real bad and the only bathrooms were in the basement computer lab and the upstairs stacks. I went down to the basement I don't know why I just did. Ive always been pee shy so I chose a stall. That's when I noticed the hole in the wall.
I went to the back booth to watch my favorite type of videos and dropped a coin in the slot. Shortly after I started to notice that a black man entered the booth across the way and proceeded to watch his video, but keep an eye on the aisle.
The fellow mentioned is George Jones (honest , but not The George Jones. George was my introduction to sexual bliss while I was in that area, a sort of " country rake " known by one & all if you needed to get a blow job from 'heaven'. that was Georges' specialty, and he was known far & wide there abouts. I didn't know it then, but this was one of Georges' favorite 'pick-up' places.
It was about 2 in the morning, and I hadn't had any luck with the schmoes at the bar, so I decided to see if there was any cruising action going on at a local park. As I headed towards my car in the lot, I caught a glimpse of a white Mercedes sedan pulling in. Inside was the hottest black guy I'd ever laid eyes on. If I turned around now and went back in, it would be too obvious it was for him.
I have been unable to sleep, I am incessantly hard and aching all the time, not even a stiff wank suffices for there is nothing can substitute the sensuality of just being with Richard.
After twelve straight hours of shooting half naked men for the new international male catalog, my eyes had become totally desensitized to beautiful, buffed bodies. Maybe I should get out of here for a while and shoot, I mean, take a load off. I head for the dark room at the back of my studio. Waiting for me was the guy from page 23. He was around 23, blond hair and dark blue eyes and a perfect six pack.
I try to keep fit and think I look younger than my 38 years - though I don't think it would matter too much if I didn't. Young chinese gays are only too willing to have sex with "gweilos" the local term for Europeans - the word means "foreign devils" but no-one takes offence at it.
Better than reading.
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