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

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                        "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...