Date: Wed, 2 Feb 2005 17:23:53 -0800 (PST)
From: nyc guy <nycguy1101@yahoo.com>
Subject: Stroked on the Shuttle

The restrooms in Grand Central Station are one of the
last few public places in NYC where one can openly
gawk at a stranger's cock and stroke yourself. Places
that were once hotbeds of circle jerk-type activity
have dried up due to an eager eye by management or
police. But aside from an occasional undercover
plain-clothes cop, the police and military men in
Grand Central seem little concerned for what may be
happening at the urinals in the bathroom. I have shot
many a load there while the person next to me does the
same. Many of the men participating in this "show and
play" are married businessmen; what transpired this
morning involves one of them.

There are two sets of restrooms in the food court:
East and West. The East ones are older, and the
partitions between the urinals are low enough so that
you have a plain view of the cock on either side of
you. The West bathrooms are newer and have higher
dividers, meaning you have to step back and/or lean
over to view your neighbor's equipment. Back-and-forth
activity between the two restrooms is common. Regulars
that don't just camp out in one of the restrooms can
be spotted walking repeatedly through the food court,
waiting for that one perfect moment of connection, and
hopefully, release.

I patrolled back and forth a couple of times before a
man I found intriguing appeared. He looked to be in
his 40s, with a buzzed bald head, dark eyes and light
facial stubble. He was wearing a waist length jacket
over a white dress shirt and a bright red tie. He also
had a shoulder bag, which prominently featured a
button with a large "W" with a red no slash over it.
In this particular bathroom there are three urinals
off to the side, which were all currently vacant; he
choose the middle one. I joined him on his right.
After a couple of quick glances at each other and
around us we started leaning back to give each other a
peek. He had a nice hard cock, about 6" and cut. A
third man joined us at the left hand urinal; he was
just using it to urinate it seemed. When another man
showed up waiting to use one of the urinals I tucked
my dick back in my pants and went across to wash my
hands. As I was using the hand dryers adjacent to the
sinks (and diagonally across from the urinals) this
gentlemen left the urinal and paused briefly to
straighten himself in the mirror. When he took his
left hand out of his pocket I noticed a wedding band.
(This is an attraction for me.) He then walked past me
(seemingly trying to rub the back of his hand across
my ass while passing) and just as he turned to walk
out glanced at me. I finished drying my hands and
quickly left. I then followed this gentleman back to
the East restrooms (passing a pair of policemen and
about 4 armed guards in full camouflage, chatting).
The East restroom has 6 urinals on one side, and 2 on
the other. The pair on the far side is out of view of
the main door and is where much of the J/O type
activity takes place. At this moment there were a pair
of men currently "using" this spot, and they didn't
appear like they were going to be through in the next
minute. So I made eye contact with the guy again in
the mirror and left. I waited just down the hall
outside and he came out shortly after me.

As we walked back through the food court I said,
"there's another bathroom we can try." We then went to
another place in the Station, but that spot was
unfortunately locked at the time. After asking if he
knew of another spot (he didn't), we then started
heading towards the Subway shuttle train that goes
between Grand Central and Times Square. As we waited
for the next train to arrive, we did a little small
chat. We exchanged names; his was R______. I asked him
about the anti-Bush button. He said that he had put it
back on his bag for the Inauguration and just decided
to leave it on afterwards. By now the train had pulled
in and we walked onto the train.

There was a homeless man sleeping on a row of seats at
the end of the car. Since he didn't happen to have the
stifling odor many of them do, I decided to stand
across from him next to an empty conductor's booth. R
stood next to me with his back to the booth door.
Because of the homeless man no one really came and
stood right next to us or the man. He was snoring
peacefully away. Another woman passenger said out
loud, "I wish I could sleep like that in my office." I
answered her, "and that deeply too," to which she
agreed. Meanwhile I'm thinking "there is something
else I'd rather have deeply right now instead."
Because I was standing facing R with my shoulder
leaning on the door, his right hand (which was holding
the bottom of his shoulder bag) was level with my
crotch. I leaned in a little closer, and R started to
slowly rub the back of his hand against my hardening
dick. The doors of the train closed, and we started
across to Times Square. After a few seconds of rubbing
R shifted his hand around and started to grab at my
dick through my pants, squeezing at the head and
shaft. I then feel him start to reach for my zipper. I
glance around at the other passengers, who are
blissfully unaware of what is transpiring right next
to them. As R slowly unzips my fly, I slowly turn
towards the conductor's booth door and look through
the little window in the door at the passing tunnel
lights outside the train. This gives him a little
easier access to my crotch and better masks what we
are doing. I then feel his hand enter my fly and start
stroking my cock through my boxer briefs. He then
quickly decides he's not content with this so he lifts
his hand so that he can get inside the waistband. He
does, and I quickly feel his bare hand slowly stroking
my stiff cock. The feeling is incredible; I am
thoroughly enjoying this impromptu hand job. I take my
left hand and hold it over his hand through the fabric
and squeeze.

Anyone who's ridden the shuttle train knows how brief
of a ride it is. By the time his hand was in my pants,
we were very close to the Times Square station. As the
train was slowing to its stop, he slowly withdrew his
hand and helped me zip back up. Just before the doors
were to open I lean over to him and whisper, "thanks."
This elicits a small chuckle. We exit the train, and
once clear of the crowd of people, R stops and turns
to me. He says, "well that was fun." I eagerly agreed.
I asked if he would like to try and rendezvous again
another time, and he said he is usually at Grand
Central at that same time each morning. We have plans
to try and meet up again tomorrow. I can't wait.