Seven Quarters

Dusk was upon me as I pulled into the campground and set up my tent. I had made an early start from back East, changed planes, then drove a hundred miles north and a few thousand feet higher to reach the park. I was wiped out but I had promised myself I would keep my brand new sleeping bag clean for my girlfriend joining me this weekend: no spooge stains on it, no crumbs in it, and zero dust, grime or dirty hairs inside from my head or body. So after locking my snacks in the site's bear locker, I grabbed my towel, some clean clothes to change into, and my ziplock bag of toiletries and headed to the bathrooms.

The campground was pretty dark with only a few lamps here and there. I didn't see any fires but considering it was summer out West, I suppose they would have been a stupid idea. No doubt some folks find the park too dark, but I kinda like the new efforts not to obliterate the night sky with light pollution. From a distance, the bathhouse looked so quiet that I figured I'd be able to rub one out in the shower without making anyone wait in line or my worrying about a neighboring showerer seeing suspicious shadows under my stall.

My hunch was almost right. When I walked in, there was only one guy - or rather I saw one guy's feet visible below the toilet stall door. No problem, he was probably as worried about me hearing him drop one in the bowl as I was about him hearing me in the shower. But then, I saw the badly vandalized sign (why can't people treat public property as well as their own?) taped over the sink mirror...

FUUUUCCCKKKK!! Showers: $1.75 for 5 minutes. 25 cents for each minute more. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I just don't see pay showers back East. I guess I understand the water shortages out West and I really don't care that much about seven fucking quarters but I didn't have any at all. Had I driven my own car I might have a bunch of change in the ashtray, but I just picked up my rental car this afternoon. The store and visitor center are closed for the night. Why not provide a machine that takes singles? Is that asking too much?

The adrenaline was still racing through me over the bad news, but I decided while I was there I might as well trim my beard so the stubble won't end up in the sleeping ba——-FLUSH.

As I stared into the mirror holding my trimmer, out stepped the man who was taking a shit in the stall. He saw me standing by a sink and walked up in his shorts and a half marathon shirt carrying his own bag of toothpaste, toothbrush, etc. I had guessed that the sandals I had seen under the stall door were attached to a teenager trying to sneak away for a private dump or an old guy trying to escape his RV for a little peace and quiet. But this guy was somewhere in his 40s or 50s, with a head of gray hair, a tanned face, and nothing particularly antisocial in his expression. We nodded acknowledgement of one another's presence. He rummaged through his own shave kit and dug out a nose hair trimmer.

I asked myself, what the hell? And then opened my stupid mouth, "Hate to bother you, but is there any chance you could make change for $2? The store's closed."

"Sorry, dude," (I didn't know any men my own age group could call each other dude) "but my wife stole most of my quarters."

Well, shit. "In that case, is there any chance that if you finish showering before your shower stops running that I could I jump in?

He deactivated his nose hair trimmer but kept looking into the mirror without glancing my way. "There's a chance but I tend to take long showers. Always have. Ever since I was 14 and used to jerk off where no one could see me," Without making eye contact, he put the nose hair trimmer in his kit and grabbed his razor to smooth his neck. "But if you're asking for a favor, I don't mind helping you out but don't rush me."

"Thanks," I mumbled. I guess it was nice of him to technically offer to split his 5 minutes, but obviously he wanted his privacy and don't think he had any intention of finishing before his 5 minute shower ran out. Oh well, I'd just have to use my hand sanitizer in my car to do the best I could until tomorrow. Now that I think about it, I'll probably get dead skin, stray hairs and sweat on my girlfriend as soon as we make love, so one missed shower is no big deal.

"Alright then," he said still with no eye contact, just staring at his blade as if weighing whether to change it out. "If you want to make sure the hot water lasts, it'd probably work out best to take care of everything before turning it on."

Wait, what? He's interested? "Oh yeah, right, that makes sense." I started hurriedly fumbling through my kit to dig out my toothbrush and floss. But he interrupted me before I found both.

"Naw, I mean before anyone else comes in, go ahead now and undress and go stand in the shower area, I'll be right there. Take the last one. Leave your stuff on the bench outside the stall and I'll take the shelf and hooks in the stall. That way it won't look so weird if someone comes in and sees two guys' clothes but only one shower going. I don't mind helping you out but I don't any need any shit from anybody if you know what I mean.

I did. I put my floss back in the bag, "Yeah, I understand. I really do appreciate your helping me out."

Then I saw that though he told me not to brush my own teeth, he was putting some toothpaste on his own toothbrush. I had reached the spot along the bench opposite the last shower stall when I heard him brushing loudly. Just as I hung my towel on the wooden peg, I suddenly felt very weird. You might have thought only a weirdo would have gotten this far. That might be a fair point, but I was just trying to solve a problem by asking for something (shower water!) that I figured would have gone to waste otherwise if he took only a quick military shower and then dallied drying off and dressing. I guess I'm naive, or haven't had this problem before, but I just assumed that when he was done, he'd say "It's all yours!" then put his towel on and step out from the curtain or stall door and then I'd step into the curtain or door wearing my own towel and that'd be the sum total of our interaction.

But instead I was undressing out here in the open while he was still in his shorts (now that I looked, I saw they were cyclist shorts), sandals, and his race shirt with a bunch of symbols and logos I couldn't read at this distance. And I was getting in the shower first? Why was that? It seemed to make sense when he said it, but I must've missed something. I sat down, pulled off my socks and shoes, placed them neatly under the bench. Heard him spit. Stood up, pulled my t-shirt over my head and hung it on the peg next to the towel. I glanced towards the sink and saw he had a full view of me in the mirror's reflection. And though he was gargling some mouthwash, he was looking straight into the mirror. Because he was so far away, I couldn't tell where his eyes were focused, but he clearly was making no effort to rummage through his things to give me some privacy. Although I can't say for sure, I really felt he was looking.

And that's when the tingle began. That feeling like butterflies in your stomach, only they're in your dick. And you feel yourself stirring to life. I think you know the one. It can happen during a tv movie, or conversation with friends about their girlfriends, or on Saturday mornings when you wake up after sleeping in. This would not be the very first time another man would see me naked, but it's rare for me to be nude in front of others. I usually get away with not doing it at the gym. I didn't grow up showering in front of friends in school. I wasn't in the military. The idea never scared me, I just never did it. So the novelty of getting naked in front of a stranger must be what was giving me lift. I knew the longer I delayed it, the bigger it'd be when I finally got undressed so I just whipped my shorts off with my back to him and hung them on a 3rd peg. I seriously doubt I looked as cool and relaxed as I wanted to as I took the three steps into the dressing vestibule so he could have the shower first. I heard him spit the mouthwash out. Here he comes, I thought.

A few seconds later the man opens the stall door and steps into the tiny dressing area, "You're gonna have to back into the shower dude or I might elbow you in the balls getting my socks off." I pushed the mildewed curtain to one side and stepped back into the poorly painted concrete block shower stall with its old drain in the corner of the floor. "Or perhaps, he grinned, "you'd've poked my eye out instead." So he definitely knew I was fluffed up and probably hard. I say probably because my dick felt heavy but I was honestly afraid to look down and confirm.

He was quiet as he went through the ritual of placing his items deliberately on the shelf and hooks. I saw him pull out his body wash. Damn it. I'm so freaked out by all this, I forget to bring my own body wash into the stall. I could ask to use some of his, but hadn't I already asked enough favors? Unlike me he pulls his shorts off before taking his shirt off. But his t-shirt didn't hang down far and with his back to me, his powder-white butt cheeks looked like they'd pad him well on a long ride. I tapped his (clothed) left shoulder, "I need to slide by, I forgot my body wash."

Still facing away from me, he straightened up a degree and stepped ever-so-slightly forward. Since he couldn't see me, I grabbed the tip of my dick and held it against my lower belly hoping to slide by without detection. That turned out to be a poor decision. Why didn't I just scrape my hard on against the vestibule wall instead and let my cheeks graze his cheeks? My plan resulted in the full length of my erection and balls getting dragged across one of his big cheeks, then into the warmness of his crack that proved to be furry in contrast to his smooth glutes, then back up and over the second cheek. I bet folks have crawled over each other on an air mattress with less contact than I caused. No, I didn't forget that he just shat before my bush brushed across his bare skin like a car wash roller. It felt good to release my cock once I stepped out of the door to grab my body wash. At the risk of someone walking in and seeing me standing there sexually aroused with a toiletry bag in my hand, I slowed hoping by the time I returned he'd finally be busy showering. But I still didn't hear any water running.

He raised his voice a little over the stall, "Find it?"

"Yep, thanks." My eyesight isn't what it used to be, but it was good enough to be able to see my dick sticking straight out in the reflection of the same mirror he had used at the other end of the bathroom. Took a deep breath and opened the stall door.

In the few moments I had been out, he had removed his t-shirt and was now facing the opposite direction as before. He had a swab in one hand exploring his left ear. He looked me straight in the eye instead of checking out whether I had deflated any, advised "Go slow so you don't make me puncture my ear drum." I kept the gaze too and refused to break it simply to satisfy my curiosity about his dick since he had already seen mine.

I had half a second to decide whether to slide by face to face or with my back to his front. I still don't know what the better choice was, but I figured the best course of action was to be consistent and face the same direction I had before, which would make for a chest-to-chest transverse. Also, one reason I needed a shower was because my own ass was dirty and I really didn't want to risk it if his dick fit as snug as mine had.

As you might have guessed from his cycling shorts, he was more slender than a lot guys that age, but not skinny. In fact, now that I was inches form his face, I think he was a little older than I first guessed. Even though my first impression of him earlier was that my belly was probably bigger than his, I couldn't feel it against mine. I also didn't feel his cock or bush or balls. All I could feel was my long stiff cock getting caught on his hip as I very slowly side stepped. As our noses passed each other, his hip released me cock and my so head then dragged across his belly. He looked remarkably relaxed cleaning out his ear despite my feeling like I was keying the side of his car. When I finally got passed him, and his other hip came to an end, my dick sprung back from the release and boinged a bit side to side.

He rearranged his coins and car key on the shelf while suggesting I get in the corner against the wall while he's showering because that way I'll be getting some hot water the whole time as it sprays and he moves around. Finally, thank God, we are going to shower and in 5 minutes this will all end.

It's a relief to be staring into the corner like a naughty school kid. I hear the water start. He laughs and asks me whether I'm counting spiders or boogers facing the corner. I turn away from my peaceful corner to see his upper back under the shower head. He closes his eyes. At last a chance to check him out without getting busted. If he has a bush, it's mown tight. Unsurprisingly, he's cut like me and almost all the other guys I see at the gym (at least the ones who are less bashful than I am). But I do admit that I am surprised he's completely soft. Is my ego wounded that he didn't respond at all to contact with my body? Maybe, but—-

I can't believe what I see, and try to rouse him from his closed eyed shower meditation, "Hey, dude, you're pissing and it's getting on me! That's not cool."

He kept his eyes closed and replied, "Can't help it. The hot shower makes me go as soon as it hits me." Then he reaches down and redirects his stream from my feet to my midsection. "Good thing we're in here to get cleaned up, right?"

I don't know what to say to a guy who thinks it's ok to pee on you. I just watch him go rather than look at his face that I feel like punching. I was getting way more warm water from his cock than shower spray, that's for sure. I don't understand men's bodies because you'd think getting hosed down by a stranger would kill an erection, but mine seems to be straining ever higher to get above the splash zone. At least one of the 5 minutes must've gone by by now.

Then he suddenly turns around and steps back towards me slightly away from the shower head. He lathers up his armpits and chest and I can tell he's soaping up his balls. Soon he squirts a big handful of it and begins cleaning out his ass. He really put some tricep muscle into it and of course the back of hand is practically stroking my hard on because I have nowhere to go from this corner.

"Might as well get as clean as we can as quick as we can," I heard him suggest as he turns his hand's attention from his butthole to my dick. He gobs soap up and down my shaft then presses his back as far as he can against my chest. The stall wall is cold against my back and butt. My cock slips right between his upper thighs below his asshole. I feel him contract then release his quads and glutes, milking my dick.

Now, I wasn't that excited about getting pissed on, but fucking hell, have you ever had a cyclist with power legs basically fuck you with his leg muscles? I can't fairly complain about that. I could even feel hot shower water on the head of my dick when it poked completely through his thighs and faced the nozzle. I sort of got nervous about the smacking sound of his butt against my lower belly but he didn't care. Seeing this guy's back made me realize he was maybe a little older than I had thought at second glance because he had some age spots and wrinkles on his neck, but this guy was in great cardio shape and his quads just wouldn't quit. He showed no sign of needing a break. I had lost most sense by this point and didn't object to him jerking me off with his thighs, but it seemed to me the five minutes must surely be over.

On one of my thrusts forward when my cockhead made it through his legs into open air, he ran his fingers underneath it in a way sort of like scratching a dog's chin and I started oozing cum before I even realized it. I couldn't see over his shoulders whether my cum had trajectory or just oozed down his legs or dripped from his finger tips. The shower was quickly rinsing it down anyway. He relaxed his lower grip on my softening penis and turned his back to the shower once more, "Now for your top half."

He took my body wash shampoo and filled his palm. Then began massaging it into my scalp. He was just a little bit taller than me, but not much. It always feels good to get your head shampooed, even at the barber. Having just unloaded a wad on the shower floor, I was about ready to fall asleep but mostly just thankful I was actually getting clean despite this very bizarre evening. But then my relaxation yielded to a growing awareness that he was using his strong grip on my scalp to slowly lower my head and body down. "You're too tall, my arms are going top sleep." Of course, he could have reasonably instead let me wash myself, but he was grasping my hair like a handlebar. I felt myself sink. Felt my legs bend to play a trick on my face. I didn't dare open my eyes because I knew the body shampoo would sting. Damn, he used a lot. And with his back blocking any shower spray, it wasn't rinsing away. When his hands moved to the sides of my skull and began opening my jawbones, I pretty much knew he wasn't going to brush my teeth for me.

I didn't have any religious hangups about sucking a cock, and in fact I have had a sort of scientific curiosity about what it might be like. I even guessed it was probably a lot of fun or so many women and men wouldn't do it. But did I ever want to go to the trouble of posting or answering personal ads from a bunch of weird flakes? Nope. Had any of my friends ever made a discrete offer? Nope. You might not believe me, but you can go your whole life without ever having an easy opportunity to suck a dick. But this did seem like one, so I opened my mouth and even moved my lips a little forward until I felt hard cock.

But, I didn't. Instead my mouth met a soft one. I could feel him rise on his toes to lift and lower it into me, then lower back onto his heels. So I had a spongy, chewy penis in my mouth. It was easily squeezed between my tongue and teeth. When I sucked it like a straw, the base grew small from my suction, when I rolled it on the roof of my mouth, it flattened. How could I be such a terrible cock sucker even on my first try? I felt I was chewing Hubba Bubba or Bubbalicious bumble gum until...

The rhythm of the head massage he was giving me began to change, slower and more deliberate almost as if my hair was being a little uprooted. He pressed my face so tightly into the area where I would guessed there should have been a bush, that it was a little hard to breathe. By doing that he also seemed to be asking to get his dick mangled in my mouth. I thought the shampoo was getting into my mouth, until I heard him moan and realized he has juiced himself all inside my cheeks. It was sort of like warm unsweet tea, without ice, but also weird. When the aftertaste struck, I recognized it from eating my own cum when I had to.

I heard and felt the water stop. How long had we been in there? I think at least 10 minutes. There's no telling how many quarters he must've put in. I really can't believe he didn't have seven extra to start with when I first asked him, so I could have avoided this whole incident. I opened my eyes. He suddenly let go, backed away, stepped into the vestibule and closed the shower curtain to separate the two of us. He toweled off quickly and quietly. I used some puddles to clean my rank ass while I waited on him to dress. After he opened the stall door, he made his way straight to the exit. I went out to the bench and grabbed my things, putting on my clean clothes. I finally brushed my teeth and got the taste of him out of my mouth. I had a hell of a time trying to the get the rest of the shampoo out of my hair using the faucet at the tiny sink.