East Herkimer, New York, a town in the central part of New York State located just off the Thruway. A sleepy place that isn't much different today than it was back in 1973, when this story took place.
***
It looked like every insect that was attracted to light was buzzing around the bare bulb that was supposed to illuminate the area around the door of the motel room - Room 9 in this case.
The bulb wasn't very bright, which helped account for the difficulty the man with the key was having as he struggled to find the keyhole. I remember looking at the sad little number on the middle of the motel door. The '9' was off center and spun halfway around when the door finally opened with a jerk.
Room 9 was probably like the other rooms in the strip mall of a motel. Cramped and seedy, with decor that was probably cool back in the 50's but seemed very outdated in 1973, it was designed to serve the two types of clients who used it; the economically minded traveler in need of a bed and a bath, and those wishing to have sex. I guess the two of us fit both categories.
I had spent the last 3 hours with this man, who had introduced himself to me as Victor, and while he was a man of relatively few words, the ones he used left no doubt as to his intentions.
"I'm getting weary, Timmy" the man with the rich olive skin mentioned suddenly as the sun finished setting. "I'm getting off at the next exit and finding a room for the night."
I had been hitchhiking my way across the state, I was about halfway to my destination, which was better than I had expected. Figuring that there would be a truck-stop at the exit, I prepared my speech thanking Victor for the ride, but Victor had other ideas.
"I appreciate the ride," I said as the man eased the car off of the interest and prepared to pay the toll.
"I'm not a homosexual," Victor said after paying the toll taker at the dark and deserted toll booth, driving a little ways down the road.
There was indeed a truck stop at the exit, and although it didn't seem too prosperous it was better than getting dumped off in the dark, where I would have no chance to get a ride. Hearing Victor blurt that out as he eased over to the side of the road was bizarre though, because I had no idea where he came up with the idea that I thought he was.
"I didn't say you were," was what I finally managed to get out of my mouth.
"I thought that the way you were looking at me sometimes, that you thought I was," Victor said, and while during the ride I had enjoyed trying to figure out the source of his accent, which was faint and something I thought was Mediterranean, I was intent on trying to figure out what Victor meant.
"No sir," I said, addressing the man with the respect due a person more than twice my age.
"It's just that I've been on the road for a while," Victor said as he stopped the car and turned in his seat to face me. "Sometimes a person gets lonely. Have you ever been with a man, Timmy?"
"Yes," I said after swallowing hard.
"Sexually, I mean."
"I know. Yes. I have," I admitted.
"I suspected so," Victor said. "I sensed it by the way you would look at me."
I had been primarily turned on by Victor's arms, which were supple, moderately muscular, and profusely covered with hair, which happened to be a particular turn-on for me. The black hair was dense and even stood out against his dark olive skin, with his gold watch providing even more contrast.
"Well, I have to admit that you're a very handsome man," I said, and while that wasn't true, there was no harm in my saying it.
Victor's features were dark and he had a solemn look about him. He had a well-trimmed thick moustache and wore horn-rimmed glasses, and although I hadn't seen him standing up, I guessed him to be about the same height as me 5'10" or so, and probably weighed about 20 pounds less than my 170.
"Thank you," Victor said. "Show me your dick."
"What?"
"Show me your dick," Victor repeated calmly. "I want to see it."
I felt weird exposing myself in the front seat of a Buick, and not only because what I was trying to pull out was so unimpressive, but I was 19 and was acting it in recent months, so I did what he asked, pulling out my pale little pecker and wiggling it around a little.
"Can you cum with that?" Victor asked.
"You mean here and now?" I asked as I looked around the darkness of the shoulder of the road, illuminated only by the lights of the truck stop.
"No. Does it cum?"
"Of course," I said a little indignantly, but it wasn't the first time my boyish appearance had made men think I was younger than my 19 years, and it wouldn't be the last.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to know. You look quite young, even though you told me that were in college. I confess I was a little startled at the size of it, but I mean no insult. Can I taste your dick?"