At the Canarsie Pier

By Michael Stewart

Published on Jun 26, 1996

Gay

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This is a true story by Michael Stewart, written for NYC's Pier BBS in 1987. Copyright (c) 1987, all rights reserved; permission granted to the "Nifty Andrew" archive for online "publication" and distribution.

Comments and lewd propositions may be sent to Michael at brooklyn@yorick.ny.cybernex.net


"At The Canarsie Pier"

The Diary of Michael Stewart: 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 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!

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...

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