It was the look that unnerved me.
It was too intense, too constant, unsolicited and therefore without reason.
That's what I was telling myself.
At the train station, standing in line and waiting to pay for my "Cafe Americano" is when I'd noticed it.
Peering at me "through the heads" of others behind me. A few feet away, holding my glance too strongly.
Certainly he didn't know me. He couldn't...could he?
Then why the chill that ran down my spine?
Stepping forward I'm next in line and my mind went elsewhere, but for a moment only. Casually ... nonchalantly, I turned my head to look again.
There it was ... there he was.
Clear blue, unblinking eyes that stopped my head from turning. Held my gaze, held me frozen till the connection was broken by the woman behind me, her gentle nudge letting me know I could now pay my bill.
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It was a beautiful day in Italy.
High blue sky with billowy white clouds that dotted the green, mountainous landscape with moving shadows as they blocked the warm, energizing sun.
Altogether beautiful.
There was still about a week to my vacation and I was putting thoughts of going home from my mind. I felt so comfortable, welcome and relaxed moving about all these strangers, thought of that time ending wasn't to be entertained.
I'd not rented a car on purpose.
I wanted to be amongst the people as much as possible and not sit solitary, alone moving from one location to the other. Normal life already had too much of that ; too much solitary confinement.
Here I felt refreshed and invigorated by the warmth, graciousness of the Italian people. They didn't seem too hurried by everyday life to put some sunshine into yours. All you had to do was open your windows and let them in - which I was.
Making a train switch, I was waiting to connect with another that would take me to my destination and there was time to kill. So I was looking about at everything. Taking pictures of anything. Even small, inconsequential things that reflected their life. So different than mine, yet so familiar.
I wanted to be able to remember, recall these artifacts and not lose them in a blur of memories.
Then nature called and I set about finding a men's room. These too I'd found were different from ours.
The camera was put up away. No picture taking to take place here. No interest to seem weird but I was still curiously noticing the subtle differences.
The urinals in this bathroom were full body length not the little "depositories" you find nowadays and although the bathroom was empty, I sought out a unit that would offer the best privacy should someone come in. I wound up choosing the one at the end of the row, a unit in a small enclave with a "privacy door".
Locked in and free to pee in privacy, I got to it and my eyes scanned the walls for any interesting reading. Not that I'd be able to translate or understand it but I always seemed to do this so why should Italy be different?
No graphics could be found. No "For a blow job call ......" or "Suck my cock......" or what looked like the Italian equivalent.
No scrawls of an oversized cock and balls, a drip of cum coming from the dramatically large head. Universal symbols dating back to Cavemen times.
Nothing. Just a plain ole "get in, get out" no kink for you today bathroom.
It was then that I saw it.
Not till I'd finished, not till I'd stepped away from the wall urinal, did I see the small hole in the ceramic tile.
About three feet from the urinal itself, about waist high and only about 1/4-1/2" in diameter, it was easy to overlook. If it were in fact a glory hole, which it probably wasn't since it was pretty small...I didn't think it in the right location.
I'd have thought it better to be nearer the urinal, where it would give the Watcher more that he'd come to see.
It was then that I realized I was standing in the "line of sight" ... if it were a glory hole. It was then that I realized my crotch would be contained by that circle ... if it were a glory hole.
It was then that I realized someone watching might think I was flashing them.
If it were a glory hole.
It was then that my cock started swelling.
I knew the bathroom was empty. I knew that there wasn't anybody there, but still I looked at the door latch before I unzipped my jeans again. Before I leaned back against the wall and before before I pulled my jeans down.
I was completely alone ... safe ... of this I was certain, but the idea of giving a show had made my small cock ache.
Leaning back I gave the hole a good look at my bikini briefs. Rubbed myself slowly, squeezed the hidden hard on.
Pulling the briefs to the side, I exposed my smooth balls and the curve of my prick. Hard and pointed sideways.
I stroked myself for "the hole". Stroked for the somebody I knew wasn't there but could be. The somebody who could be enjoying my self pleasures, could be getting excited by my giving myself up...could be...but wasn't.
