Sloane House Y

It was the early 1970's, and I had just turned 20. To celebrate, I decided to take a trip to New York City. Not having a whole lot of money, I had asked around before the trip to see if anybody knew of a cheap place to stay.

"Sloane House Y," one of my fellow students informed me. "Just don't drop the soap, if you know what I mean."

The guy didn't know me very well, obviously, because that sounded like an unexpected bonus to me.

........................

Chapter One: Checking in.

The place was as cheap as could be, given the proximity of the Sloane House to Times Square. Something like 5 bucks a night, which was a lot less than I had even dreamed.

The room wasn't much; with a single bed, a table with a couple of drawers in it, and a TV crammed into a 6' by 10' space, but the price was right. After tossing my things in their places, I locked the door behind me and walked around entire floor where my room was located.

Located halfway down the hallway was a communal bathroom, with a long row of urinals and stalls accessible from both sides of the hallway that went around the entire perimeter of the floor.

Down at the end of the bathroom, I could hear the sound of water running, so I walked in that direction and came across a large tiled room. There were hooks on the wall in the outer portion of the room, and there was a large portal that separated the changing area from the showers.

Not hearing any noise except the splattering of water dripping, I ventured inside and peeked into the shower area, which was empty. There were about a dozen shower heads along the three walls, and there were even plungers under each one which dispensed soap.

Conspicuous in their absence were any dividers or partitions of any kind between the showers. which meant that when you took a shower in here, you could see and be seen. The thought excited me, because there was nothing I wanted to do more than to look at other guys, and picturing being in there and watching some big, hairy guy lathering up next to me was as good as it could get for me.

If this place was as it had been derisively described to me, I was right where I wanted to be. Heading back to my room, I tried to figure out what would be the best time to take the first of what I had imagined as a frequent series of showers.

..

Chapter Two: Checking out.

After walking around the immediate area of the city, around Madison Square Garden and up to Times Square before coming back to the Y, I figured that I had worked up enough of a sweat to need a shower.

Getting off the elevator, I casually walked down to the bathroom to take a leak. The shower room was empty, and after I got done I headed back to my room and waited for a time while watching some television.

I grabbed the white towel that had been left on the bed and took my walk around the floor, pausing near the entrance of the bathroom again but hearing nothing. Just my luck to be on the wrong floor, I thought to myself while walking back to my room, but when I turned the corner I heard a door click behind me. When I peeked back I saw a man walking toward the bathroom clad only in a towel.

Excitedly I ran back to my room and stripped down, grabbing my shampoo and room key before wrapping the towel around me and heading back to the bathroom at a brisk pace.

...

Chapter Three: In the shower.

The steam billowed from the shower room as I put my towel and room key on a hook opposite the one already hung there. Giving my dick a couple of quick pulls to make it a little more respectable, I took a deep breath and walked inside.

The man who was already in the room was facing me, and smiled when he saw me enter the room. I nodded and headed toward a shower head kitty-corner to him.

He was not the type of man I was attracted to, but I was happy to at least be in the company of a naked man. He was about my height and weight, but was probably in his sixties. The age and the build were fine with me, but his body was almost as hairless as mine, and his cock was pretty nondescript as well.

Not as small as mine, of course. The grey haired senior seemed to be normally endowed, and I had yet to find the man who was as pathetically endowed as I was. I was sexually attracted to bigger men - much like many of them were drawn toward me. This fellow was pretty much what I would look like in 40 years or so if my dick managed to grow a few inches longer, and I wasn't really interested in that right now.

The older gentlemen certainly was interested in me however, and he made little effort to hide the fact that he was brazenly staring right at me. For my part, I pretended not to notice and just went about my business, washing my hair while positioning myself so that he could see all of me he wanted.

It was then that I realized that what I had been told about the place was true. The man made no move toward me, as he may have sensed my lack of interest in him, but that didn't faze him in the least, because as I squinted through the suds of the shampoo, I could see him and what he was doing.

The man had his cock in his hand. He was hard, and he was stroking himself while staring over at me, glancing toward the door every few seconds to make sure no one was coming in. This excited me, and it took all of my willpower not to get hard myself.

I heard a couple of grunts, which I assumed was the signal that he was cumming. I pretended not to notice, and rinsed the shampoo out of my hair while he turned off the shower and walked toward the door. He gave me one last, long look before walking out into the drying room, leaving me alone.

....

Chapter Four: Done? No.

I stayed under the spray for a couple more minutes, wondering whether I should have given the guy some signal that I was willing. I could be taking showers for the next couple of days and not get another opportunity like that, and I was so horny that he was looking better in retrospect every second.

Finally, I turned off the shower and headed toward the drying room. The elderly gent had left, leaving only my towel and me. I was reaching for the towel when I heard somebody whistling in the distance.

Momentarily uncertain, I moved back into the shower and turned it back on, jumping back under the warm spray and waited. The whistling grew louder, and I heard some movement in the drying room. I got the sense that someone had just peeked into the room while I faced the spray, and then the whistling was replaced with some soft singing which got louder as the man padded into the room.

.....

Chapter Five: Scared.

This was a different feeling that I had, being the one who was already showering as someone else came into the room, so I kept facing the wall and squirted shampoo into my palm. The man who had just entered did not go to the other side of the room, but chose a shower on the same side that I was on, and only one space away.

When I heard him turn his spray on, I glanced quickly over in his direction before turning away. The man was black.

I had rarely come into contact with any black men, as my school was almost entirely white, and the social interaction was virtually non-existent. I was scared, but not for any particular reason other than a fear of the unknown and unfamiliar. The man was singing while taking a shower and certainly wasn't bothering me.

Hazarding a look over his way, he seemed obvious to my presence. He was tall and very slender, and seemed to be in his 40's or 50's. He had a sprinkling of salt and pepper hair on his chest, and while I was curious as to what was between his legs, he was busy scrubbing down there, and that obstructed my view. But not for long.

Almost as if on cue, the man had turned in my direction, and while I jerked my head away, I had seen more than enough in that brief moment, and now the man was moving toward me.

"Say brother, could you spare a little shampoo?" he asked in a deep bass voice, standing only a foot away from me. "I left mine in my room."

"Uh - sure," I stuttered reaching for the bottle that I had put on the little shelf, and my trembling hands couldn't hold onto it, causing it to fall to the tiles.

This left me to fumble around and try to pick it up, while attempting to keep myself shielded from his view. It rolled toward his gigantic bony feet, and this led me to a very close encounter with what had caused my panic attack to begin with. The man didn't budge, and after much more scrambling with the slippery shampoo, I was finally able to pick it up and hand it to him.

"Thanks, my brother," he said, squeezing out some in his palm while he stood there beside me, finally clicking it closed and handing it back.

......

Chapter Six: What I saw.

I had been looking at the man's private parts, despite my best efforts not to. He knew I was looking at him too, and not only made no effort to hide himself as I had, but seemed to be reveling in my intimidated and nervous reaction to seeing him. Then again, why should he hide himself?

I had always been attracted to generously endowed men, and had been fortunate enough to make the acquaintance of a number of men who were well hung, a couple of whom were spectacularly blessed. Now, having seen what I had just seen, I was stunned and light headed.

It was a Marvin Gaye song he was singing, and as he scrubbed his close cropped hair, I looked back over again, just to make sure my eyes had not been playing tricks on me. Now, as I watched the absurdly long and flaccid ebony hose roll lazily from side to side, I was hypnotized.

The thick, uncircumcised cock seemed to hang almost to his knees, defying anything I had ever witnessed or even imagined, and made me wonder how a man could possibly be that huge.

I snapped out of my daze when I realized that the man had been watching me stare at him, and was grinning a grin that announced, "Gotcha!", but he said nothing, just looking over at me to see what I was trying to hide.

Funny how I had gotten over my original shame at being so small down there, and had even enjoyed exposing myself to men much more well endowed than myself, but this was something altogether different, and I felt utterly pathetic as I rinsed off, turned off the spray and hustled out of the room.

I thought I heard the man chuckle as I quickly grabbed my towel and my room key and dried myself as fast as I could when I heard the other spray also turn off. Tying the towel around me, I got out of the room just as the man emerged, still singing that Marvin Gaye song he had sung when he first joined me. Sexual Healing.

.......

Chapter Seven: Back to my room.

I got out of the bathroom as fast as I could, scurrying down the hall and around the corner to my room. Once there, I closed the door behind me and attached the chain that secured it, leaning back against the door while I caught my breath.

What the hell was wrong with me? There I was in the showers with a guy who had the most incredible cock I had ever seen, and instead of enjoying the view and seeing what happened, I ran like a scared rabbit.

Who's to say that the guy was even the slightest bit interested in me? Just because somebody comes over to you and borrows some shampoo doesn't make him gay. Chances are he's a straight guy who would kick my ass if he knew what I was thinking.

And just then, there he was again. Marvin Gaye.

Not Marvin, but the song again. Out in the hall. Faint singing, but getting a little louder with each passing second. The guy's room must be near mine. Louder still. What if the guy's room is next to mine? What if he sings that song all evening, and I'm stuck in here having to listen while remembering that cock swinging between his legs?

Thankfully, the singing stopped, and I began breathing again, only to jump halfway across the little room when the sharp knock on the door resonated loudly.

My heart was pounding like a jackhammer as I stood staring at the door. How could he have found me? The room key! The number of the room was on the plastic key chain. What could I do? Nowhere to hide in this little room, and he knew damn well where I was.

"Yes?" I squeaked.

"I got something you need, brother."

Damn. I opened the door only to have the chain abruptly stop it. Peeking out, I saw the man holding the bottle of shampoo in his hand. Relieved, I undid the chain and opened the door a little wider, and as I did, he eased it open further and came into the room. He wasn't forcing his way in, but he certainly made it clear he was coming in.

"Oh, thanks," I said, taking the bottle of shampoo from him and setting it on the table.

"Good thing I happened to notice your room number, or else I wouldn't have been able to find you," he calmly said while closing the door behind himself, and the little room was now a whole lot smaller.

"Yeah, uh - thanks."

"You got one of the royal suites, I see," he said, chuckling as he glanced around the room. "You here alone?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, mentally kicking myself for being tongue-tied and trembling.

"Thought you might have been here with your Daddy or something," he said, while I tried not to look at the outline of his manhood that was quite visible through the towel he wore around himself.

"I'm not from here," I mumbled.

"Nobody is," he said.

"Uh - I'm Tim," I said meekly, extending my hand.

"Pleasure," he said, and the black hand that grasped it was probably twice the size of my own, and the long, bony fingers had a powerful grip.

"Figured you for a tourist," the man, who had not given me his name, mused. "Just judging by the way you were looking around at the sights back there in the shower."

I shrugged my shoulders, and my lips moved but nothing came out. He had seen me looking at him, and he was going to kick the crap out of me.

"That's why I came to find you," the man said, his hand moving casually to the knot that held the towel around his slender waist, and with the flick of his wrist the knot came undone and the towel fell to the floor.

"Thought I'd give you a chance to see my stuff without you having to pretend you weren't," he said.

"I wasn't - I mean that I didn't mean to," I stammered.

"You wanted to look, kid," the man, who I would always think of as Marvin, said to me as I kept staring up at his face instead of where I wanted to. "Go ahead. Look."

The last word was spoken as an order, and I found myself looking downward. Down the slender torso with the triangle of black and grey hair on his chest. Down past the flat stomach and the thin trail of curly hairs that started under his navel and fanned out around his cock.

His cock. My entire body was twitching, or so it seemed to me, and I felt spastic as I looked at the largest penis I had ever seen. Impossibly thick at the base, it tapered somewhat as it reached the end, where just the very tip of his pink-hued glans peeked out from the dark mahogany foreskin.

It wasn't as long as it had been in the shower, but when Marvin brought his hand down, gripping the hose backhanded and giving it a series of pulls that made this cock look elastic, it got as long as it had been earlier. He kept pulling and stretching the rubbery hose - at one point it looked like he was going to tie it in a knot or something - before he finally let it dangle.

My breathing was so loud that it must have seemed I had a lung disease, and despite my nervousness my dick was as hard as blue steel, and it was making a mini-tent of my towel, while I continued looking at Marvin's package. His nuts hung low and loose in the wrinkled scrotum that lay behind his cock, and while his balls looked rather normal in size, the pouch that they were housed in sure wasn't.

"Well?" Marvin said. "You like what you see?"

........

Chapter Eight: Mine.

"Let's see."

"What?" I asked meekly.

"Your towel. Take it off."

"Me? Mine?" I said.

"Take it off, or do I have have to take it off for you?" Marvin said bluntly. "I already saw what I wanted to see back in the showers, just like you did. Now we're just getting a better look. Take it off."

My trembling hands went to the knot, and I found myself doing as I was told. When the towel came apart and my dick sprang into view, Marvin chuckled. A deep and throaty laugh that burned in my ears as I stood naked before him, my dick jerking spasmodically up and down, much to my embarrassment.

"That wasn't so tough, was it?" Marvin asked. "Now turn around."

Numbly, I turned myself around in a circle.

"Not all the way around. Turn and face the window."

I did as Marvin asked, staring at the venetian blinds that blocked the fading sunlight. On the TV, I saw the reflection of us on the dead screen, and saw Marvin walking toward me, feeling his heat as he leaned into me.

"Hmm," He grumbled as he bent and growled into my ear, sounding like Isaac Hayes while his hand came around my body. "You got a tiny pecker on you, don't you? Your thing's little even for a white boy."

Looking down, I watched Marvin's bony fingers grab my stiff stem and squeeze it hard, pulling on it roughly as he ground himself into me.

"You like what I'm doing to your dick, boy? Damn, you got hardly enough to get a hold off. Mine was bigger than yours when I slid out of my Mama," Marvin said derisively, and while his words hurt, it didn't stop my cock from throbbing in his grasp.

"I don't care about your little dick, boy," Marvin continued. "It's your ass I want. Feel me rubbing between those tight cheeks of yours?"

I certainly could feel his flaccid cock as he pressed it along the crevice of my butt, and while I had taken big men back there before, the thought of what Marvin's outrageous member would do to me when full engorged made me terrified.

"I wanna fuck you in the ass, boy," Marvin said, his other hand now reaching around and grabbing my balls. "I wanna fuck you hard. I want to stick my cock in your ass so deep you'll beg for mercy."

The taller man was practically holding me upright, as my knees were weak and my head was spinning. Looking down, I saw the black fingers on my pale white genitals. He was being rough - much rougher than I had ever been handled before, but for whatever reason I was enjoying it.

His thumb and index fingers were practically crushing my slender stem, and his other hand was kneading my sac with a vise-like grip, my cherry-tomato sized balls getting churned and abused in his iron fist.

While the room seemed to spin around crazily, I started cumming. I thought I was going to pass out as I came. My dick was squirting volleys of cum all over the room; the floor, the TV screen and even the blinds three or four feet away were not immune, as my little pistol shot out jets of my seed like it was a cannon.

I moaned loudly as Marvin's hand finally stopped milking my balls, but his other hand kept savagely pulling on my dick until I finally had to beg him to stop.

"Maid's gonna love that," he chuckled in my ear as he released his grip on me and backed away, almost causing me to fall down as I lost the support that had been pretty much holding me up.

I was drenched in sweat as I looked around at the mess I had made, finally having to sit down before I fell down.

"Room 725," Marvin said curtly as he put his towel back around himself. "Be there in 10 minutes or don't bother coming at all."

Dazed, I looked up just before he left and closed the door behind himself.

"No fucking around either," Marvin added. "I don't like games. If you come, I'm getting in that ass of yours."

.........

Chapter Nine: Down the hall.

The thought of what Marvin was going to do to me was terrifying, but I knew I had to go. Wrapping the damp towel around me and grabbing my key, I headed down to the bathroom and ducked into the shower so I could spray myself off after the activity I had experienced.