Phil is/was a friend of a friend who was buying some computer
equipment from me that I had laying around...the fact that he was 23
years old, and an Italian cugine from Staten Island kept more than the
merchandise he was buying on my mind, but I didn't think anything would
come of it, since from all reports, he was a real straight arrow.

He was supposed to come over early in the afternoon, but didn't
show up until about six, by which time I was somewhat pissed off and I
wasn't exactly on my best behavior. He was hot, alright, with a really
big basket and a hairy chest (if you read my profile, you know, that's
the quickest way into my heart - and pants!), and I figured, fuck being
Mr. Nice Guy, I was gonna make a play for him.

I made a big deal about the board, showing him the equipment, and
finally maneuvered him into asking what was on it. I said to him, "Why
don't you sign in and find out?" grinning behind his back...

To make a long story short, he did, and started reading some of the
hardcore files. He didn't seem too interested, until he got to this one,
the Sysop's Sex Story of the Month. I could tell he was interested in
that one because he kept stopping the screen, to read it all, but I
couldn't really tell what his reaction was.

About halfway through the file, he looked up me (I was standing
over him, behind the chair he was sitting in so I could look at both the
screen and his basket), with a strange expression on his face, and
asked, "You really give head to other guys?"

I told him the truth - that was my favorite fucking hobby - and
that seemed to satisfy him for a few minutes, because he went back to
reading. After those few minutes, though, he stopped again, and looked
up again and asked, "You really suck cock?"

As I said: fuck being Mr. Nice Guy! I nodded, spun the chair
around, and grabbed him right between the legs. I was right; he -was-
interested, and hard, too. I suppose I was taking advantage of him, but
I like to never miss an opportunity! Before he could react, I started
massaging his cock bulge, and I remember telling him, "Shit, you're hung
like a fucking horse!" and "What a cock, guy!" (You gotta make these
straight guys feel like they're doing you a favor by letting you worship
them, or you'll never get to first base!). As I was talking, I pulled
open his belt, snapped open his pants and pulled down his zipper, and
then started rubbing his cock through his briefs. It felt about
average-sized, but I figured, with the basket he shows, he's got a lot
more than I could feel. I had to have a look.

I then got down on my knees and yanked the pants and the briefs
down, first to his knees, and then to his ankles. I was right. His cock
was average, maybe 6", 6-1/2", uncut, but his balls were huge! Not quite
like lemons (everybody in porno magazines seems to have either
lemon-sized balls or grapefruit-sized balls); more like hefty walnuts,
in a hairy sac. I thought I'd show this straight boy exactly what I do.

First thing I did was lick his nuts, something I bet his girlfriend
never did for him. First one, then the other. I tried to get both into
my mouth, but his sac was just too damned hefty for me to manage. I
could say I was having a ball...

Then I ran my tongue up his shaft, and around the head...then back
down the shaft. Then back up...and then I went down on him, burying my
nose in his tight, curly pubic hair. He was shifting his ass back and
forth in the chair, moaning and breating hard, so I could tell he was
enjoying it as much as I was. Up and down I went, sucking, licking,
running my tongue around his cock, fondling his nuts with one hand and
balancing myself with my other.

I pushed his shirt and sweater up a little bit so I could see his
stomach, and sure enough, it was the kind I like, nice and hairy. I
whipped out my cock, and the hand I was using to balance myself went to
work.

I figured I'd better get him to come soon so he'll remember this as
the blow-job of his life, so I put every trick I knew into it. Running
the wide part of my tongue around the head of his cock seemed to be a
real winner with Phil, probably because he was uncut and not used to all
that stimulation, and after the second or third time, I felt him get
real stiff, and I knew he was gonna shoot.

I pulled off fast and started to jerk him, but he reached up and
knocked my hand away with his and started working on himself. Fine, I
figured, let me watch this straight Italian boy jerk himself off in my
living room while I do the same thing to myself. It was great!

In just a couple of strokes, he spread his legs really wide (at
least, as far apart as he could get them with his pants wrapped around
his ankles!), and groaned, and shot on his stomach, his legs, and me. As
soon as his cum hit my cheek, it sent me over the edge, and I blasted,
half on the rug and half (quite purposely), on his leg.

He kept stroking for a minute or so after he came, and boy, did I
wish I had film in the instant camera! He looked so hot, this studly
Italian straight boy, with his pants around his ankles, his cock in his
hand, and cum all over his stomach and legs...

I guess the feeling went away real fast; he didn't even bother to
wipe himself off, just stood up and pulled his briefs and pants back up.
As he was tucking his shirt in, he said, "I've never done anything like
that before. I hope this will stay between you and me," and two minutes
later he was out the door.

Sure, Phil. Just between you and me. (grin)

Monday, October 26, 1987:
------------------------

Mondays have never been my favorite day at work, but this Monday
was going to be the fucking pits - I had to be in at 7:30 AM! For those
that don't know, I work in Manhattan and live in the ass-end of
Brooklyn, which meant I had to leave the house at 6:00 AM. Blech!

Usually, when I have to go in that early, I catch some sleep on the
train if I'm sitting or read if I'm standing, but as luck would have it,
I was standing and the lights didn't come on after the train went
underground (the "L" line starts at ground-level, then turns elevated,
then turns into a subway). As usual, it picked up tons of people at each
stop, and by the time it hit Myrtle Avenue (one of the big transfer
stations), the train was pretty full, but I suddenly didn't mind.

I was standing in the corner, right by the connecting door, and
right in front of me was a fucking god! Tall, slim, dressed in a
leather-jacket and half-opened shirt (how come they never get cold?),
and bulging jeans, complete with a thin, dark moustache and slightly
longish dark, curly hair, this guy would be enough to grab anyone's
attention!

Although the darkness was a big factor in this little tale, I'm
sure the fact that he and everyone else standing around were positioned
in such a way as to block us off from view helped as well. We were kind
of standing there face to face, him in his leather jacket, me in my
trench coat, and everytime the train lurched (those that have ridden the
"L" in Brooklyn know how much it lurches), we were kind of bumped
together. After one hard especially hard jolt, he sort of looked at me
and sheepishly grinned. What a smile! 6:30 in the morning, and I was in
love!

I, of course, started to get stiff, what with his looks and the
forced body contact and the atmosphere in the crowded, dark subway car.
I also started carefully checking the guy out, keeping my head sort of
bent, staring at his groin. The only time I could get any kind of a view
was when the car chugged past a tunnel light, and when we were in a
station.

After a few more stops, things were even more crowded, and he was
almost continually pressed against me, face to face, groin to groin. I
was hard as a rock, and was sure that the next time we bumped, I'd shoot
in my pants. I also got a little more brazen checking him out, figuring
he couldn't see me in the dim light. He was a really handsome guy, mid
to late twenties, I guessed, and from what I could make out of his
basket, nicely hung. I guess I got a little too obvious about it,
because after pulling out of one station where I'd spent the time
looking him up and down, he leaned over and whispered to me, "You like
looking at me, don't you?"

I almost shit myself, but as nervous as I suddenly got, I nodded.
He leaned a to my ear again and said something like, "Watch this." I
wasn't gonna miss this for the world! Up until now, he had had his hand
on the sliding door, supporting himself, but now he moved it between our
bodies, right to the bulge of denim between his legs. He started
kneading it (that's the best word for it), and I could feel my dick
getting harder and harder in my pants. Not wanting to miss a second of
the show, I just mouthed the word, "Wow."

His hand disappeared for a minute and I thought, show's over, and
then I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt him grab hold of my
hand. He pulled it toward him, and put it right on his cock bulge! If
you've read any of the other stuff on here, you know I'm not the kind to
look a gift horse in the mouth, so I repeated what he had been doing to
himself, squeezing what felt like a really thick cock through his pants.
In the meantime, he reached over and started feeling mine, which, as I
recall, was tenting my pants almost in a straight line over toward my
hips.

I remember looking away for a second to make sure we were still
unobserved, and the next thing I knew, he was pulling down my zipper!
Even if the train hadn't been crowded and dark, I probably would have
let him do it, just to make it with this guy. He reached into my pants,
and after I shifted a bit, pulled my stiff dick out my fly. Fair's fair,
I thought, and tugged his fly down, reaching in to find he wasn't
wearing underwear. He obliged me by shifting a bit, and soon both our
cocks were out - on the goddamned subway! He moved closer to me, and
grabbed both our dicks in his hand, and was rubbing them. I could smell
him now, a good, clean, macho scent, mixed with the leather smell and
sex smell we were generating. Better than any Rush!

If we had been alone - really alone - I'd have grabbed in my arms
and started exploring his chest with my tongue while he jacked both our
rods, but I couldn't here. Instead, I just stared into his eyes, and he
stared into mine, his hand only slowing - not stopping - whenever we
pulled into another station.

Finally, we pulled out of Bedford Avenue, and had to ride through
the long tunnel under the river before coming to the next stop in
Manhattan. This was it.

His hand started moving faster, and I reached around with my hand
and came up under his jerking fist, and stuck a couple fingers into his
open fly and started fingering his nuts. We were still staring into each
other's eyes, and he had his half-closed now, and looked so fucking hot!
Wow!

I was getting really close to shooting, and mouthed, "I'm cumming!"
to him. He nodded and half-smiled - he was too. He dropped my cock, and
I grabbed it finishing myself. With the strobe effect of the tunnel
lights shining in through the doorway window, I watched him move his
other hand to cup his balls while he kept stroking. That did it... I had
to half-turn, to avoid shooting the cum on either one of use, and
blasted it all over the door. While I was spurting, I noticed him
creaming too, doing the same thing - shooting on the door, mixing our
loads together.

The strangest thing about the whole experience was the due to the
circumstances, neither one of us could moan or groan or be too obvious
about what we were doing. We just kept our eyes glued to each other's
except when we were shooting, and then we were watching each other's
cocks! We went back to looking into each other's eyes as we zipped
ourselves up, just in time to pull into First Avenue.

For the next few minutes, we just stood there, our breathing
settling back to normal. As we were pulling out of Third Avenue (the
next stop on the line), I realized I was getting off at the next stop,
and since it was still crowded enough to get away with it, I reached up
and kept my hand on his cock bulge until we got there, wanting to
remember this scene and this guy.

As the doors opened, I gave him a quick smile and ran, right up the
stairs to catch the uptown train. I stood there, right at the top of
stairs, waiting for a train to come, and who do I see coming up the
steps but Him! He saw me, too, for the first time in real light, and
walked over to me and smiled.

"Hi," he said, "my name's Paul." I introduced myself, and I knew he
enjoyed it as much as I did when he smiled That Smile again. We rode the
uptown train together and chatted a bit, and since he doesn't work too
far away from me, we agreed to meet sometime for lunch...or maybe
another subway ride.

Saturday, September 5, 1987:
---------------------------

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 curiousity 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!

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...

Friday, July 10, 1987:
---------------------

For quite some time, I had been carrying on correspondence with one
of more interesting-sounding users...since I'm not the type to
kiss-and-tell, I'll let you guess at his name (well, OK, suck-and-tell
is a little different, but I'm still not going to identify him). I will
say that he is in his early thirties, married, and bi, and described
himself as being about 5'7" or so, maybe 150 pounds, brown-haired,
hairy-chested and fairly well- hung.

Well, to get back to the story at hand, for some time we had been
trying to arrange a meeting, and finally we hit on a day and time that
seemed good for both of us. For various reasons, we couldn't use either
of our houses, so we agreed to meet at a straight porno theater on Kings
Highway in Brooklyn that seemed to be well-known for it's all-male
action in the balcony and bathrooms.

I deliberately got their a little early, to check the place out. I
was very surprised to find that they had done some re-arranging to the
place since the person who described it to me had been there last: now,
up the balcony, they were showing all-male fuck flicks. There were
various guys wandering around up there, sometimes making contact with
each other in the balcony aisles, but I guess since this was a Friday
afternoon, things were quieter than normal. I skipped the straight part
of the theater to check out the basement men's rooms, only to find them
empty, except for one stall where a young, Italian-type (the term used
to be "cuzine"), had his pants around his ankles and was beating off. He
had the door closed, so I couldn't tell too much in the dim lighting,
and when I went to peek in through the cracks around the door he turned
his back, so I guess he was one of the straight ones. Shame; he was a
real hunk, just my type!

On the way back up, I checked out the straight section of the
theater, and sat down for a few minutes, watching the straight action.
Seemed much like all-male porn - no plot, no dialogue except for grunts,
groans and moans. I was very surprised when I caught sight of a guy
disappearing off to the side, to standing behind another guy who was
seated, who started playing with his dick - it looked like he was
sucking it! I thought I'd seen everything there was to see down there,
but when I turned around to leave, sitting a few rows behind me were two
fairly good-looking guys, one in his late twenties, another in his early
thirties, seating a seat apart, and the younger one had his hand in the
older one's lap. And this was in the straight part of the theater! Holy
shit!

I ought to stop for a minute to explain why all of this excited me
so much. As some of you may have read, straight men turn me on, and so
do men who resemble the "Brooklyn" type. Finding a place like this -
right in the heart of Brooklyn - was enough to get my cock hard by
itself; and finding action like this there was almost enough to make me
shoot in my pants!

I had to hold off, though, since the guy I was supposed to meet was
due soon. Inasmuch as I had promised to meet him outside, I waited until
the bulge in my pants went down, and left to meet him on the corner.

Fortunately for my nerves (he was the first user I had met that I
didn't know before I brought the board up), he was right on time, and
his description had been accurate. Since I had described what I'd be
wearing, he had no trouble finding me, and we soon were inside the
theater, together.

First thing we did was head up to the balcony, and find some seats.
We chatted for a while, and I, starting to get horny again, started
rubbing my cock through my pants. He seemed to be getting horny, too, so
I reached over and closed my hand around the mound in his pants...and
found a nice, hard dick underneath. I whispered in his ear for him to
unzip himself, and I pulled down my fly and whipped out my dick.

Now we were both sitting there, next to each other in a straight
porno theater in Brooklyn with our cocks sticking up out of our laps. I
reached over and started slowly jacking on his cock, and he wrapped his
fingers around the head of my dick and started rubbing and caressing it.
It felt great!

After a few minutes of that he decided it was time for something
new. Since we had both shared the fact that we had taken the test and
tested negative, I sure didn't mind when he lowered his face into my lap
and took my hard rod all the way down his throat. I kept my hand wrapped
around his dick, and stroked his cock while he sucked mine. I tapped him
on the shoulder, indicating I wanted a turn, and we traded places.

I started by licking his big balls, and then working my tongue up
the shaft and around the head, and then took him the way he took me -
deep and fast. I guess I must have been good; he leaned back in the seat
and let my mouth have it's way with his cock and balls.

Soon his breathing quickened, and I felt his cock start to get
stiffer, so I pulled off. He grabbed his cock, moved to the edge of the
seat, and I could just barely make out him shooting his load on the back
of the seats in front of us. Wow!

We took a break to smoke a cigarette and get our breath back, and
after a few more minutes, we were ready to go at it again. This time, I
started sucking his dick first, working my lips and tongue around the
head of his cock while one of my hands stroked his shaft and the other
worked on his balls. I had such a good time, my jaws started getting
tired, and I pulled back and let him do me. He was even better the
second time around, and all too quickly, I was shooting my load across
the back of the seats. Then I was back into his lap, and licked and
jerked him to another orgasm.

It was a hell of an afternoon, but we both had to get going. Before
we left, though, we did agree to get together again for another hot
afternoon!

Friday, July 3, 1987:
--------------------

The weather left a lot to be desired. 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." Not yet
thirty, he already had a big house in East Hampton. He was bi - although
we had never done anything together except talk - and Helen was his
current "live- in." He said she didn't know and that she shouldn't know
(about him), so I figured this would be pretty boring, but they just
wouldn't let me get out of it. The only thing that made it bearable was
the fact that it was supposed to be a "pool" party, and so I'd get to do
a lot of sightseeing of all the guys in bathing suits.

I got there fashionably late, so I'd already missed out on seeing
the guys strip down and change into their suits...and from what I saw
milling around the pool, I had missed quite a bit. There were a lot of
really hunky men there that day, and everytime one of them came out of
the pool, their wet bathing suits would cling even tighter and drive me
nuts!

This went on for most of the afternoon and by the time the sun was
setting, I had to sit to hid the boner in my suit - Speedos aren't great
for hiding sexual arousal! Not only was I horny, but it seemed that I
couldn't do anything about it; everytime a guy would lay down on one of
the chaise lounges, for instance, his girlfriend would come over and
start rubbing lotion on him...I think I was the only one there who
wasn't paired off. If I didn't know Jim better, I would have thought he
was doing this only to torture me!

Eventually things started to wind down, and when it started to get
really dark, the four or five of us guys that were left were escorted by
Jim down to the basement rec room to change out of our suits. He had a
shower down there, so it wasn't too bad, but being there with those
other guys in such close proximity got me even hornier, especially when
they started to get undressed. They were all somewhat modest, so I
didn't get to see too much, but just watching these five straight guys
strip down got my even hornier, and like them, I had to hold my suit in
front of my crotch, except in my case it was to hide my hard-on, not
because I was shy.

I was the last one in the shower, and I came real close to just
jerking off in there to cool the tension, but I was so worked up I
figured I'd just save it and go out cruising after the party. Still, it
felt good soaping up my boner and tugging on it a few times - a promise
of things to come, so to speak!

I finally stopped so it would go down enough to let me get out of
the shower, but when I turned off the water, it was strangely quiet -
none of the macho banter that had been going on before, but since the
shower was in a kind of alcove, I couldn't see the rest room, so I
figured they'd changed and gone. I finished drying off and grabbed my
suit and just sauntered out naked.

Right into the middle of a circle jerk!

The stuff I was carrying dropped to the floor, and so did my jaw.
I've been into a lot of sex scenes, but I never expected this shit! Jim,
my buddy, was laying on the floor stroking his hard cock, and the other
three guys were standing over him pulling their own cocks. It was all
absolutely silent - no one was talking - and the only sound you could
hear was the heavy breathing and the moist sound of cocks being stroked.

I moved into the circle, my hard-on back in full force. They
glanced at me, glanced at my cock, and kept stroking. Jim was still on
the floor on his back, one hand pulling on his meat, and the other
stroking his balls and every so often moving up to his chest to toy with
his nipples. The other guys, all about the same age as Jim and I (there
was maybe four years between us), were looking at him and looking at
each other, all almost in the same pose - their right hands wrapped
around their dicks, and their left hands holding their balls. One guy,
though - I think his name was Jeff - was a little shorter than the rest
of us, and had about as hairy a chest as I did, and also had the biggest
dick of the group, and he kept taking his hand off his big nuts and
stroking his cock with both hands. I wished I had a camera.

What made this so fucking hot was the fact that these were some of
the same guys I had been watching all afternoon being fawned over by
their girl- friends! I had thought all day that these fucking hunks were
straight! Christ!

I was too horny to hold out for very long, and I felt like I was
gonna come quickly - too quickly, in fact. The other guys were starting
to look like they were going to shoot, too, and Jeff (I think), was
starting to almost bounce up and down on his toes, taking long fast
strokes on that big dick of his. And then with a groan that they might
have heard upstairs, he raised himself up on this toes and shot a huge
stream of cum all over Jim's chest. >From then on, it was like a chain
reaction - I started to cum, and then the other guys, all over Jim (he
seemed to want it; why else would he have been laying on the carpet?),
grunting and groaning and heavy breathing and a few "splat" sounds
everytime another volley of cum hit home...Jim was creaming too, and his
load was almost as big as the loads from the four of us...everytime
another shot came out, he muttered, "Fuck!" Jesus Christ!

Finally we'd all shot our loads, and then just kinda around looking
embarrassed. Without saying anything, the other guys moved into "their"
corners and started putting on their clothes. I looked down at Jim, who
was still laying their on the floor milking his softening cock, his
chest and legs covered with cum, and he looked up at me and winked. He
started to get up from the floor and I helped him up. By now the other
guys were starting to go upstairs, so Jim said, "You better go up. Tell
Helen I'll be up in a minute." He clapped me on the back and disappeared
into the shower alcove.

I moved off to the side and grabbed my clothes, stuffing my damp
Speedo into the back pocket of my jeans. Boy, was I glad I hadn't jerked
off in the shower!

Wednesday, May 6th, 1987:
------------------------

It had been an awful day at work, but a really nice day outside,
and I didn't particularly feel like sitting on the bus for two hours
going home. It's funny that the so-called express bus actually takes
longer than the subway, and costs $3.50 to boot! Not only that, but I
invariably get some huge woman who hasn't seen her feet in years sitting
next to me, whether there's room or not. No, I thought, I just don't
feel like going home... but I couldn't decide what to do.

My dilemma was solved when I opened up that day's edition of the
Village Voice to check out the movie listings. "Century Mining" was now
playing at the Adonis! Having jacked off to some of the photo sets from
that flick, I realized where I could find my salvation: at the movies,
and without Siskel and Ebert!

Five o'clock finally rolled around, and I took off like a shot.
Even though I work on Seventh Avenue in the thirties, I figured I'd
rather save my energy for cruising the theater, so I walked over to
Eighth Avenue and took the bus up to fiftieth. There is was on the
marquis, "Century Mining," and the co-feature, "A Night At Halsted's."
Oh well...the B-flick was almost as old as I was, but with Pierce
Daniels (who I'd actually met a few weeks earlier), in the other movie,
I figured I couldn't lose!

I went in, paid my $6, and then bumped into at least five seats
while my eyes were getting accustomed to the dark. That's the fun part -
the anticipation, the mystery, of not knowing what would happen. I
wandered over to the smoking section, not just because I smoke, but also
because the sign that says "Smoking Section" is lighted, so you can see
a little better, and, having found myself a seat, started watching the
movie until my eyes got used to the darkness.

Well, at this point, I must digress from this narrative. Anybody
can give you a film review...what's important here is what I (and just
about everyone else the theater), was up to that evening. If you've ever
been there, you're familiar with what goes on, but bear with me. The
parade of men up and down the aisles may not have been the best, but it
certainly was above average. A couple of young, yuppie types; a few
twinkies, more than the usual number of jocks, and the usual number of
trolls. On a scale of one to ten, the crowd so far was a seven.

After watching the procession of horny men go past my seat a few
times I decided on the one(s) I wanted. My first target: a guy about
twenty-seven or so, business suit, good-sized basket (anybody who can
show a basket through a three-piece suit is worth knowing, believe me!),
six feet tall or so, dark curly hair. A moustache. And a wedding ring.

I guess I ought to stop again for a minute and tell you that
married men are a favorite hobby of mine. They seem so sexy...and
afterwards, most are soooo grateful! With most, it's not that they don't
get enough at home from the wife; it's that they were always attracted
to men and thought they could supress the feeling by marrying.
Unfortunately (for them, anyway, not for me), it doesn't work.

This guy was hot, and as soon as I saw him coming again, I leaned
back in my chair, unzipped my fly and hauled out my cock. I'm certainly
not the biggest in the dick department, but my eight inches is pretty
good-sized, and I've learned how to work it to my best advantage, to
make it look even bigger. I started tugging on it, using both hands, and
stared up at him as he passed, licking my lips (yeah, I know, I'm an
awful slut!). He stopped dead in his tracks, and stared back at me...and
then kept moving. Damn!

I would imagine that if you ever went to any of these places, you
know the type of games that go on, almost an elaborate ballet of sex.
There are certain moves, certain actions, that have a universal meaning
in these situations, whether it's a backroom bar or a alley in the
Village or a movie theater. Men are men.

As I saw him coming around again, this time from the other
direction, I started my little show again. This time, he stopped,
stared, started moving again...damn! Oops, wait a minute...he was
doubling back. He stopped and stared again...and then moved into the row
of seats behind me. Bingo!

He picked the chair right behind me to my left, and sat down,
spreading his legs wide. I kept one hand on my dick, and slowly reached
around, putting my left hand on his right knee. God, it felt good! I
looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back. Geez, gorgeous white
teeth, and now I could see his eyes - a beautiful green. I moved my hand
up his leg, and as I got closer to his groin, he started thrusting his
hips out, trying to get my hand on his cock as soon as possible.
Finally, paydirt! My hand closed around his bulge between his legs, that
big, pinstripe-covered basket, and I squeezed, gently. It was already
hard, and felt thick...and he had a good pair of balls, too. I rubbed
some more, and feeling his cock start to grow some more, I reached my
hand up for his zipper. As I started to pull it down, he put his hand
over my mine. Electric! I looked up at his face again and smiled, and
sort of motioned him to come down and sit next to me. He got a sort of
strange look on his face and got up, looking like he wouldn't do
it...but he did.

Aw, God, he smelled good! It almost hurt...just thinking that one
guy shouldn't be that good looking. It also hurt a little bit thinking
that no matter how good it was, he belonged to someone else. But then he
put his hand on my dick, and it was easy to forget all about that. I
turned to him, and found my lips against his...and then all over his. He
sure knew how to use his tongue, and I returned the favor in kind, our
mouths dueling in the darkness, my lip being tickled by his moustache.

Still with my tongue in his mouth, I reached down his body, feeling
through his shirt...hairy chest, good sized muscles, erect nipples. I
toyed with his nipples for a few seconds, felt him respond...heard him
respond as he almost groaned. Then lower, down to his groin. I rubbed
his cock through his pants again, and then reached for his zipper, still
not looking. Once again, I felt his hand cover mine, restraining
it...only this time, I could hear/feel him opening his pants and
unzipping his fly. Victory was mine!

I reached into his briefs, finally, going past his cock and cupping
his balls. He stiffened a little bit at that point (maybe nobody played
with his nuts at home), but we still didn't lose mouth contact. Good
sized nutsack...felt like they would be real low-hangers, and pictured
this married son-of-a-bitch getting out the shower, stark naked, his
balls hanging down and his cock half-stiff. Umm! I massaged his nuts for
a time, and then moved my hand up, up his shaft, not stopping 'til I got
to the head of his dick. It was thicker than mine, not quite as long,
though, and I felt a pang of jealousy for the bitch who could have this
any time she wanted it. Not now, though, I thought viciously, right now
it's all mine!

As I rubbed his dick, even though I still couldn't see it (well, a
little, out of the corner of my eye), I could tell he was cut. He was
also working on my dick, and seemed to be enjoying it, so I felt the way
he was rubbing my cock and started working his the same way. That's
always the way to handle these guys...see what they do to you, and then
do the same to them. They usually don't have enough experience to do a
routine, so they usually do what comes naturally. God, I love a real
man!

Finally, I needed some air and broke away from his kiss, glad of
the chance to see what I'd landed. Christ! His cock, sticking out of my
hand, was gorgeous...thick, and cut, and beautifully proportioned, his
balls resting on top of his briefs, his shirt hiked up giving me a
tantalizing view of his hairy gut. He leaned back, and I felt his hand
leave my dick and caress my face...his fingers run through my hair...his
hand rest on the back of my neck. I knew what that meant. He looked
clean, no precum, and I had no open sores in my mouth...so down I went.
I started at his navel, working my tongue through the wispy hairs that
drew a line down to cock, feeling his big dick against my neck...I
worked my way down, bypassing his cock, and licked his balls...a fresh,
clean sort of smell, macho but gentle. Then I worked my tongue up his
shaft, and, still being in a safe-sex frame of mind, took my hand and
wrapped it around the head of his dick. He groaned, audibly, but who
gave a shit? I lathered up his shaft with my spit, then went back down
to his balls, and started to let my fingers do the walking - up and down
his wet, slippery meat. Fast on the way down, slowly on the way up,
making sure I got in a lot of friction on the head. He spread his legs a
little wider, and took my cock in his hand again, jerking it faster than
he had been before.

I half wanted this to go on forever, but the other half really
wanted to see this married stud shoot his load. I started working my
hand faster and faster, and I was getting so hot that I thought I was
about to shoot my jizz as well. My mouth sought out his again, and we
played dueling tongues again while we jacked each other off. We must
have made quite a sight, the two of us sitting there, our hands on each
others cocks, our faces mashed together like we were trying to swallow
one another. He spread his legs a little wider, and I felt his cock
surge, getting even thicker...and that sent me over the edge too. We
broke the kiss in time to watch each others load shoot from our
hands...I felt weak, but watched him shoot five good blasts of cum onto
his hairy belly...he aimed my out between my legs, and I shot all over
the back of the seat in front of me. Whew!

He pulled a handkerchief out his one of his pockets, and wiped up
the cum...while I kinda sat there, just idly milking my dick, enjoying
the last of the sensation. He looked over at me again, smiled, and we
kissed one last time...not as intensely this time, but nice...almost as
if he was saying, "thanks." It gave me one more chance to rub his
now-soft cock. He tasted so damned good, I didn't want it to end, but
finally he pulled back...looked at his watch...I guess he had to catch a
bus home to the little missus or some- thing like that. I watched him
put his equipment away, and I did the same, almost catching my dick in
the zipper since I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. He sat
back again for a minute, and smiled again...and then looked down to find
himself still holding the cum-soaked handerchief. He looked up at me
again, and reached over, putting the damp rag into my hand. He smiled
and got up, rubbing me once on the shoulder and running his fingers
through my hair once more...and was gone.

I scrunched back down in the seat and pulled out a cigarette, lit
it, and turned my attention to the movie that I'd come to see, fondling
the handkerchief. In the dim light of the theater, I could see the
embroidered intials, "DTS." I wondered what they stood for.

But not for long. There were some new men wandering around, and
that rag came in handy a few times that night!