"Y" SHOWER

By: Jack Sofelot

 It was called "The House of the Never-ending Showers.” It was a downtown YMCA. The showers just never stopped, day or night. Now, you'll probably never get anyone to confirm this, but during the '40s, the '50s, the '60s, and the ‘70’s, in the days before bar back-rooms and adult bookstore glory holes, big city YMCAs around the country did more to popularize the casual blow-job than any other single organization. If you wanted to spend a few nights somewhere, and you were a young man, you'd head for the "Men Only" YMCA, where you'd find adventure if you were looking for it.

 I caught the tail end of the era. In the summer of 1979, looking younger than my 18 years, I checked into a "Y" for a week.  They put me on a floor I later learned was for young men staying a short time.  They wanted to segregate us from those who lived there on a more permanent basis.  They also wanted to segregate us from older men regardless of length of stay.  In practice, no segregation effort worked.  Men of any age who were staying there, plus men who were only visiting the gym and swimming pool in the basement, would go from floor to floor, and from shower to shower, checking meat poundage.  I'd find myself showering between a staring 45-year-old pervert and a smirking 25-year-old stud one moment, and beside a muscular weight-lifter the next.  I'd blow them all, get a first-class blow-job from the older fellow in return, and never have to leave my shower.  It was like, well, room-service.

 I spent most of my time that week in the "Y" shower.  At that age, during the course of a day I was able to ejaculate easily three times.  With a little effort, I could add a fourth or fifth ejaculation.  And with some heavy incentives, like a circle jerk with four sexy 19-year-old sailors, a sixth or even seventh; but that couldn't happen every day, mind you, just enough to thoroughly enjoy the week.  The most memorable period was an unbroken 12 hour stint, from late Wednesday afternoon ‘till dawn on Thursday.  All I did was stand there taking a shower.  Naked.  For 12 hours.  Here's what happened:

 I had slept all day.  Tuesday had been a busy night.  But by five in the afternoon, I was awake and horny.  I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the sound of the never-ending showers.  The set-up of the bathroom was strange.  Everything was duplicated.  As I entered, there was a row of wash basins on either side of the room.  Behind each row of basins, on the other side of the wall, was a row of urinals, across from which was a row of toilet booths.  At one end of each row of booths, was a door to a shower room.  In each shower room, was a row of six shower heads.

Since showers were running in both shower rooms, the first decision to make was which side to take.  There were some fellows in the bathroom, so I figured it'd look pretty tacky to check one shower room, check the other and, then, select the first one over the second.  I'd had a couple of pleasant experiences in the left-hand side, so I put my towel on a hook and went in, pushing on a heavy, hard-to open, squeaky metal door that stuck and scraped as it moved across the floor.  The door held a tiny window that was cracked, foggy and almost opaque.  Looking through that window might confirm that someone was indeed taking a shower, but I wouldn't know until I opened the alarm-like door whether it was a Peter Pan or a King Kong.

 Today it was a sexy, skinny guy about my age who I'd seen a couple other times.  I figured I might be lucky, and as I turned on a shower right next to him, I started throwing a boner.  He'd put his head under the water spray as I came in, but when he heard and felt the next shower being turned on, he pulled his head out, shook off the water and looked at me, rubbing his eyes.  He grinned.  "You a swimmer?" he asked, in a low, quiet voice.

 "No, why?"

 "You got a nice, slim body like a swimmer's."

 "So do you.  Want a blow-job?"  I'm no good at small talk.

 His grin widened.  He turned to face me.  He'd been concealing a puffy semi-erection that looked fairly raw, like he'd been beating on it before my arrival.  I licked my lips.  He stepped closer as his cock started climbing upwards, aiming for my mouth.  He skinned it back and pumped it stiff in a few strokes with a knowing fist.  It wasn't a gesture that meant "No".  I squatted down, put both my hands on his thighs, and licked at the fiery red head.  His hand moved to the base and he pointed the nice-sized organ at my mouth.  I sucked in the cockhead, lashing at it with my tongue.  He gasped.  He humped his hips at my face and shoved about two-thirds of the long, wet meat into my eager throat.  I pulled back, sucking, and pounded forward as he humped his hips again.  It went in all the way.  He said, "Shit, man, look at that!"

 He started fucking my face with lusty humps, low hung balls thudding against my chin erotically.  Somehow, I knew this wouldn't be his first orgasm of the day.  He was taking his time, enjoying the feel of a good blow-job.  He knew what he was doing, and so did I.  My hands slid around to his ass and I pulled him in tighter, leaning my expanded chest into his thighs.  I caressed and kneaded his firm butt.  With each hump, I began to force him in stronger, harder, pulling him into my throat, suctioning.  He increased his pace and his breathing.  At the peak of an inward thrust, I swallowed, which causes tremendous pressures on a cock.  He groaned.  I swallowed again.  He said, "Damn, that got it, man, take my cum!"  He thrust forward and went rigid, his ass muscles feeling like stone in my hands, as I felt his explosions pump into my throat.  I swallowed.  He shuddered with pleasure.  I drained him dry.

 I pulled myself up off of the cock and, using his hips for leverage, stood up, smiling at him, licking my lips.  He grinned, then look down at my cock.  A look of shock flitted across his face.  "You've got a big one.  I can't handle that.  I never do anything back, anyhow.  Sorry."  He looked embarrassed and backed away from me, soaping up his crotch.  I gave him a grin and a couple of disarming lies:  "Relax.  I like to give blow-jobs, not get them.  Besides, I shot off between your legs into the water just as you came.  You didn't see me do it, but you got me so hot, I couldn't hold back."

 "Wow, alright!" he said with a big grin.  "That's great.  But, gee, how come you're still so hard?"

 "You know how we are.  I cum two or three times.  Don't you?"

 "Oh, yeah, right.  I came twice today already.  This is the third time."  Hardly surprising.  I was glad I arrived when I did or he would have sent another delicious load down the drain.  He rinsed off and left with a smile.

 As he pulled open the door, I noticed that he had to step past another guy who was getting ready to come into the shower, and who moved aside to let him out.  A big guy.  A football player or something, who made the kid look like a ten-year old by comparison.  I wondered if he'd seen what I'd been up to.  I kept my crotch turned away and tried to concentrate, rather unsuccessfully, on reducing my conspicuous erection.  I kept thinking one of these days one of these big bruisers would take offense at my lascivious behavior and decide to chastise me, but that never even came close to happening.  I guess most everyone entering those showers had a good idea of what was up, and why.  They knew what they themselves were looking for.  After all, naked men were able to figure the score as they showered with other naked men at all hours, were openly cruised, and saw all sizes and shapes of erections, semi-erections and growing interests.

 The football player took the shower right next to me!  That simple act is always very clear.  If he wanted me to keep away, he'd have taken the furthest shower, and would have kept his back towards me.  Body language is a clear communicator.  He started showering with great sweeping motions of his hands, lathering up in great style.  His left arm swung around and bumped my shoulder.  Contact, I thought, excitedly.  "Oh, sorry, man," he said in a stage whisper.  I grinned at him, and almost laughed out loud.  If he wasn't putting some devious little plan to work, why was he whispering?

 "That's okay, nothing's broke," I whispered back, smiling up into his handsome, rugged face, looking him in the eye.  Then, very slowly and obviously, I looked at his bull-neck, bulky shoulders, slab like pecs, strong abs, and his bulging thighs.  He turned towards me slightly, allowing a good look at his tool box.  It was fully packed.  He had a heavy tool and a great pair of huge balls.  He wasn't densely hairy, but his body was highlighted in all the right places with dark mats, wet from the shower.  He gave an aura of strength and power.

 "Heh, heh," he chuckled, "nothing's broke here either."

 "Yeah, everything looks perfect," I said, staring at his crotch.

 "Ya like what ya see."  It wasn't a question.

 "Want a blow-job?"  I can't be coy.

 His hand slid to his balls, as his eyebrows jumped up.  "Fuck, yes!" he said loudly, above the noise of the water.  Then he looked around in surprise, like a little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

"Relax." I told him, again whispering.  "No one's going to come in here.  We're safe."

 "Ya sure?"

 "Absolutely.  No one will see us."  I lied with a straight face, calming him down.  How he could believe me and start growing this thick hard-on was beyond me, but I loved it.  He would probably have been surprised to learn that the kid he stepped aside for had an organ at least three inches longer than his.  That's not to say his wasn't perfect.  And fatter.  And he really knew what to do with it, enthusiastically.

 He kept his back to the door as I thudded my forehead against his solid abdominals, pounded my nose into his cockhair, and put a vise grip on his steel hard cock with my suctioning mouth.  He jabbed his hips at me.   With muscular squeezes of his buttocks, he drove his cock into me as far as it would go.  His hands clamped over my ears and he handled my head like it was a melon he had fucked before.  He rotated his hips, shifted positions, changed speeds, and whispered obscenities I could only faintly hear.  I strained to look up at his face, above the heavy musculature of his stomach and chest, and watched him ogle his meat as it was fucked in and out of my mouth.  He eyes were half-closed in ecstasy.  As they closed tightly, I got the first shot of his voluminous cum.  He kept on face-fucking me until I thought he might be trying for a second orgasm in a row.  I loved it.  Just as I felt myself responding to his enthusiastic energy, and thought maybe I'd beat off with his second cum-shot, the door behind him squeaked.  He dropped his hands from my head and looked over his shoulder.  The door squeaked again as his head turned, and whoever had peeked in was gone before he saw him.  "Fuck," he whispered down to me, "I thought you said no one would come in."

 His cock was so thick, and in so deep, it was impossible for me to respond.  I tried to give a shrug.  I wanted to giggle.  He tugged and his cock popped out with a loud slurp.  "No one came in," I said quietly.  "No one saw anything.  You're so big and strong that I was hidden down here," I lied.

 "Oh, yeah.  Maybe you're right.  Yeah.  Great.  Listen, I'll be back tonight around 2 AM.  Try to meet me here then, and I'll give ya some more.  Wha'da ya' say?"

 With such a huge, grown man's body, it was a heart-melting little boy's grin that he gave me.  I said, "I feel like waiting right here till you get back!  You're the best!"  He was grinning proudly as he quickly finished his shower.  He left with a wave.  He had to push past a fellow who was waiting to come in.  "The peeker," I thought, but couldn't be sure.

 I took the natural precaution of keeping my back to the door as the fellow entered and the squeaky door automatically closed, noisily.  The guy came over to the just vacated shower at my back, pushed the in-the-wall soap dispenser once, grunted, "Damn", and walked around me, very closely, to the shower on my other side.  After having just sucked-off two terrific guys, I couldn't easily conceal my throbbing hard-on with feeble washing motions and I tried to keep my forearms in front of my crotch.  He put his hand on the soap dispenser.  He didn't try to get any soap.  "Great!  This'll do," he said looking at my throbber.  He started his shower, as he kept facing me.  He was an older guy, and his stare made me fell sort of uncomfortable.  He didn't look at my face, just my crotch, and was damned obvious about it.  "Nice," he whispered.

 "Huh?

"You've got a nice, big one."

 "Wanna suck it?"  I'm not shy, either.

 With a bold thrust of my hips, I displayed my rigid cock in full arousal for him to see clearly.  With a sort of moan, he sank to his knees and leaned towards it.  His hand reached up and grabbed my balls firmly but caressingly, tugging on the heavy sac with a skill that comes from plenty of experience.  I knew I was in good hands and relaxed.  "That's it!" he said grinning up at me, "now feed that giant hose to me and watch me eat it."  He put his flat, long, moist tongue out and waggled it.  I slid a hand down to the cockbase, pushed down on the stiff shaft, and slapped the cockhead against his hot tongue.  The tongue seemed to curl over the entire, large head.  He lapped at it.  He leaned forward, tongue still curled, and slowly drew in over half of my long cock, tongue still well out of his mouth lapping down the shaft.  He was good.  He began sucking, drawing out some fluid, then backed off the cock completely.  "Man, you taste so good!" he said, smiling again.  I still had my fingers at the cockbase, pointing the weapon at him.  He leaned forward, sucking as he went.  He forced it into his throat and went down to the base in a smooth but powerful effort.  The tip of his tongue lapped at my balls while his mouth sucked on the entire length of my throbbing shaft.  It felt fantastic.  Few cocksuckers are skilled enough to deep-throat a cock the size of mine without tremendous effort.  Most suck at the head and pump the shaft with a hand.  Deep-throating feels a hell of a lot better.

 I jabbed my hips into his face, thrusting the firm cock in as deeply as it could go.  He slipped it out slowly, backing away from my thrusts, and whispered up to me, "That's it.  Fuck my face, stud.  Fuck it hard!"  He swallowed my cock in one slow, smooth, tight push.  I began fucking like he asked.  He started bobbing his head up and down the full length of my pulsating cock.  He was great.  He continued tugging gently on my balls.  His other hand slid up between my legs onto my butt and pulled my body into his face with each descent.  The sensations were overwhelming.  At the same time, though, it made me even more aware of how great a blow-job makes a guy feel.  It reinforced to me how the guys I had been blowing during the week must have been feeling as I sucked them.  That thought made me feel terrific.  I knew, without doubt, that I was as good, or better, than the expert cocksucker now copping my joint.  I liked the few lurid phrases he had used.  They got me hot.  I resolved to try to use similar phrases on guys I suck off.  It would add to mutual enjoyment.  I thought, "Boy, you really can learn something new every day!"  I came.  He sucked me dry, not spilling a drop.  Then he stood up, near me, and looked down at his own erection.  A nice one.  He gave me a dejected look and said, "You young guys never like to suck cock."

 "Wanna bet?"  I'm not stupid.

 His face lit up like the sun had just come out.  He skinned back a good sized pecker, showing a dark, crimson-red cockhead that was meaty and full, oozing sticky liquid from the moist cockslit.  It drew my mouth like a magnet.  I had the entire shaft in up to the balls before he felt the heat of my mouth.  "Man!" he grunted through clenched teeth, "what a tight throat."  I swallowed.  He moaned with pleasure.  As he began a pumping action, I kept my mouth and throat as dry as possible, swallowing often, both to increase the clasping, tight action of my throat, and to allow the full skin covering on his cock to move smoothly without slippage.  His was one of those uncut cocks I came across infrequently.

 I settled in for a long, pleasurable suck job, taking my time and giving him the most pleasure possible.  We must have been going at it for more than ten minutes when the door squeaked open noisily.   He was facing it and he simply put his hand lightly on the back of my head to tell me it was alright to continue.  I heard the shower next to mine being turned on.  The exhibitionistic turn-on for the guy brought his lust surging.  He plunged his cock even more strongly into my throat.  He grunted loudly, "Yeah, take it all, cocksucker!  Drink my jism.  Eat that cock!" and let loose a series of obscenities as he let fly a series of thick spurts of cum deep in my throat.  He held my head tightly against his pubic bone as he came.  It was great, but I wondered what the fuck the guy behind me was thinking of all this.

 As we broke the conjunction, he reached under my arms and pulled me up to my feet.  I thought that was nice of him.  Under his breath, he whispered to me, "Don't worry about this guy," motioning with his head to the guy behind me, "I've given him plenty of head."  It was the first time I heard "head" used that way, but I understood its meaning instantly.

 I turned to face my shower, gave the newcomer a profile of my rigid erection, reinvigorated by the cum I'd just swallowed, and looked at him.  He took my breath away.  He was an extremely handsome military recruiter I'd seen resplendent in his uniform in the lobby of the building.  He was not a paying guest of the "Y".  He was naked in this shower because he had looked around until he found some action he wanted in on.   My profiled erection was matched by his equally solid, large hard-on.  He took some soap out of the dispenser I had assumed was empty, and massaged it onto his stiff, long pole.

 "I suppose ya think yer gonna suck this cock, too, kid."  He used a tough tone of voice.

 "I hope so!"  I'm not crazy.

 "Well, yer gonna have to work for it, ya little cocksucker!"  He was rinsing the soap off the massive weapon, watching me as I was watching the shiny instrument gleam in the bright light of the shower room.  "Git down an' lick my balls!"

 He was used to giving orders, but he also knew what he liked and used a barrage of obscene military instructions to tell me just what he wanted done.  He was very handsome and very sexy.  Doing what he demanded was a pleasure, not a chore.  And behind the phony gruffness was humor and patience that told me he'd be an interesting guy to get to know better.  Little could I know then, but that passing thought would end up with me joining the service.  The sergeant liked having his knob polished and liked having an audience there to watch it being done.  So with frequent directives and much name-calling, he pumped a hot load into my eager throat.  When he finished, both of them left together.  Before the door closed, he leaned back into the room and said, with a wink, "Next time you're in the Lobby, stop by and say 'Hello'.  You're Okay."  He smiled and let the door bang shut.

 For the next hour or so, several people at a time were in the room with me, as guys were showering to get ready to go out for the evening.  A couple of them smiled at me, or bumped into me with apologies, and I had them later in the night when they got back.  No one realized that I simply stayed in the shower all night.  When they saw me for a second, or even third time, they assumed that I had gone out and come back in as they had done.  Some I went down on twice over the course of eight hours or so.  Others I went down on twice in a row, they had liked the first one so much.  I came often. After the evening rush, the turnover was slow, with plenty of time to give unhurried blow-jobs.  It surprised me how many of them liked to have someone else there to watch.  And with an audience they were much more verbal and obscene.  Once they had their cocks down my throat, it didn't matter to them if someone else would come in.  They kept pounding away until they gushed a load.  Then they'd pull out, recommend the service, and stay to watch, sometimes going for seconds.

 After midnight, and until about 3 AM, traffic slowed to a steady flow of guys who'd been out drinking.  Actually, the slowdown was helpful because drinkers take a longer time to crack a nut.  Alcohol numbs the nerves in the cock, it would seem, and they simply take longer to reach orgasm.  Cocksuckers love that.  It gives us the opportunity to try different techniques, different styles, to try other pressures and speeds.  The numbness isn't insensitivity.  Guys love blow-jobs, and respond with great inventive playfulness, especially guys who realize they're having one of the greatest sexual experiences they're likely to have in a lifetime.  Expert, deep-throated cocksucking is rare.  Ask yourself how many times in your life you've experienced it.  Be honest!  It's not that often. Oh, we've all had good blow-jobs, don't get me wrong.  A hot mouth on a lonely dick can be a blessing that is quickly rewarded.  But a memorable sexual experience given by a man who really knows what he's doing, can be a miracle.

 At about 3:30 AM, just as I was pulling off of a really big cock that had given me a tremendous, robust load, I looked up to see a young fellow staring in amazement at me through the slightly opened door.  Three other guys his age, about 19, pushed open the door and sort of shoved him into the room in front of them.  I recognized them as four sailors newly assigned to rooms on the floor.  The other three hadn't seen what had been going on.  The guy who'd just cum, left.  Two of the sailors took showers on one side of me, and two on the other.  The guy who'd peeked was on my right.  I grinned at him.  He grinned right back, hand sliding to his developing boner.

 "Hey, look, you guys," one of them called out, "Middy's gettin' a rod on."   The sailor they called Middy looked embarrassed.

 "So am I," I said loudly, grinning.  "Must be that time of night.  I usually have a wet dream about now."   I wanted to take the heat off Middy, whom I found to be cute and very sexy.  They all laughed.  I pumped up a stiff erection, backed away so they could all get a good look at it, and began a very blatant masturbation.  They stopped laughing.  "Fuck, it feels so good!" I whispered.

 "Christ," one of them said, and as I looked at him his little cigar ballooned to the size of a zeppelin.  Middy's came to full attention as he joined my masturbation and the other two grabbed their own as they saw the three of us playing with ourselves so openly.  Middy reached out and turned off his shower and mine and faced me, his hand pumping the now solid cock.  The other three moved out of their sprays and we formed a five-man circle.  "Wow," someone said, "lookee here, we got ourselves a circle jerk!  Ain't it great?!"

 "Yeah, Fantastic!" I said, "I hate wet dreams, anyway."

 "Me, too," someone else said.  "Makes a mess of the sheets and you don't get to enjoy it.  I'd rather use my hand any day."

 "Agreed," someone else said, "but I've never been in a circle jerk.  Isn't this, er, wrong?"

 "Fuck, no," I said lightly, laughing, easing tensions.  "Mutual masturbation is one of the healthiest known sexual outlets for men.  Most guys do it.  Didn't you know that?  Don't you guys know anything?"  I gave a look that asked how they could be so dumb.

 "Well," the dark-haired quiet one with the biggest cock said with a smirk, "I never jacked-off with buddies before, but I sure as hell ain't gonna stop now.  This feels too fuckin' good."

 "Yeah," Middy said with an evil glint in his eye, "I guess the only thing that would feel better now is a blow-job!"  We were all silent as we looked at him and then at each other.  Our hands were doing well on our cocks and they were all clearly into the middle stages of arousal, knowing that each would shoot a load.

 "Christ," one of them asked, "how could we get a blow-job here?"  A naively delightful question.  Middy looked at me with a grin.  "Got any ideas?"  He dropped his hand, pushed his hips forward and offered me his cock.  They others gasped at his obvious action, sucked in their breaths, and expected a burst of outrage from me.  Imagine, poking out your cock at a guy to suck, like that.

 "The only idea I can think of," I said, pausing as if deliberating the meaning of his question, "is that," I paused again, "more than anything else," another pause...

 "What's he gonna do?" someone asked.

 "...I love sucking Navy cock!"  I went to my knees in front of Middy, and between the other three, and sucked his man-sized dick down to the hilt with one swift gulp.  I'd been doing it all night, and this was frosting on the cake.  The other three gasped aloud together as they watched his cock disappear between my lips, but Middy just smiled down at me and put his hand on the top of my head.  I gave him my best effort of the evening, drawing him in deep and strong, bobbing my head along the complete length of his throbbing meat, being expert and obvious about it.

 "Holy Shit, look at that," someone whispered.  I felt a load of cum landing on my head and back.  "Fuck, I couldn't hold back.  I never seen somethin' like this."

 "Ooh, thanks, I almost let mine fly just then, too," someone else said.  "I wanna wait and see what he'll do after he's brought Middy off."

 "Fuck, man, do ya think he'll do us all?  I can't believe it."

"Why, shouldn't he, he seems to like it.  See how he's got it in to the balls?  See how he's working his head over the entire thing?  Men, I do believe we've got ourselves one of them cocksuckers we've always heard about.  Cute one too.  Ain't he."

 "Yeah, he's handsome," Middy hissed through clenched teeth, "and he's about to get my wad."  I liked the warning and pulled the bold sailor in tightly, kneading his buttocks.  The first  spurts were so strong they almost choked me. I swallowed his load noisily.  After a while, he let go of my head.  "Next," he said, as if offering me at auction.  The guy on his left pleaded, "Do me.  Do me.  I'm about to shoot all over the place."  He pressed in next to Middy, who sort of helped him maintain his balance in his eagerness.

 "I've been wanting to get that cock in my mouth, sailor," I said grinning up at him.  "Com'on fucker, feed it to me."

 "Alright!" he moaned as he thrust his hips forward sending his shiny cock into my mouth.  He shuddered and pumped his seed into my throat.  Too damn fast, I thought, disappointed.  When I pulled off, the next guy had already traded places with Middy and fed me his cock without comment.  He pumped his hips five or six times, making little grunting sounds, and exploded deep inside me.  He pumped out a great volume of cum.  I loved it.  I figured I was finished and started to get up.  After all, the fourth guy had just beat off over me.  "Wait, please," I heard his voice again.  "Don't stop, I want to try it.  I can shoot several times in a row, man.  This jack-off just flushed out the first, nervous load.  Come suck my cock and take this second load.  You won't be disappointed."  I could have flown onto his cock the moment he said "Wait", but I wanted his friends to hear his comments.  It turned them on as it turned me on.

 "Fantastic!" I said, "I'd love to suck it, man, bring it here."  I grinned as he leaned in towards me, cock standing rigid in front of his flat belly, still gleaming with his first orgasm.  As I began a slow, careful, deep-throated blow-job, the others took the time to watch, amazed at the penetration of their friend's big cock into my mouth.  They started talking about it, and about how good it had felt to them, asking their buddy how it felt, giving him encouragement and support, playing with their renewed erections.  It was an amazingly lusty scene, getting me as hot as I'd been all night, and I'd already had six orgasms.

 "Shoot that load, man," one of them shouted.  "Fuck that face," someone else whispered, sensuously.  "Wow, I could shoot again, too," someone said.  "Yeah, me too, look at us pump these cocks.  And, hey, look at this cocksucker.  He's pounding the ol' beef right with us."  Beef was a trigger word for my current trick and he blew off when he heard it.  It was a heavy, full load, regardless of being his second.  And it tasted better than the others for some reason.

 I stood up, my throbbing hard-on dark colored and mean looking.  The others gathered around me, in close, fists working on hard meat.  "Oh, shit," I said, pumping mine with a flourish, "you fuckers all taste so good that I'm about to let fly."

 "Geez, look at that.  He's got a big one for a cocksucker," one of them said.  It would have made me laugh if I hadn't been so close to shooting.  "Yeah," Middy said, "it looks real good."  I sensed a kindred spirit in Middy, and wished that we had met alone.  He was watching my hand work my tool and I caught a look of longing to reach out and touch my cock.  Instead, I reached out and grabbed his beneath his own hand.  He let go.  I pumped his with the vigor I pumped my own.  He looked into my eyes, and said, "I'm cumming!"  He started to shoot.  A rope of sperm sailed up to eye level between the five of us.  "Ungh", the guy next to me said, and his sperm jointed the flight into the air.  My gusher erupted next, and three of us were cumming at the same time.  "Fuck," the guy next to Middy grunted and his semen started spurting out towards the center of the tight circle.  That made four.  "Here cums my third load, look at all these squirting pieces of beef!" and with that the fifth guy added his juice to the circle.  It had all happened so quickly that the five of us were cumming together, shot after shot pumping out onto arms, hands, stomachs, chests, and balls.  "Wow," I said, "this is the best I've even seen.

 The four of them washed up, said, "so long" and left.  I wondered what kind of conversations they'd be having about this in the next few days, and I suspected they'd be interesting to overhear. I was getting tired and figured that the night was really at an end, when, suddenly, the door cracked open and in came the football player.  He was a little tipsy, and was followed by the sexy, skinny guy who had been my first cock of the night.  "I'm late," the football player said playfully.  "Since you waited so long, here," he said grabbing his gonads, "bite this."  I had to laugh.  So did they.  His arms surrounded me and he gave me a surprisingly affectionate bear-hug.  "But don't bite it off," he slurred, drunkenly, as he groped himself.

 The skinny kid said, "You're up early.  Want a little?"  His cock was as hard as ever and looked renewed.  "Sure do," I said eagerly, but before I could do anything, the football player said, "Hold on.  Why do you get to have all the fun?  I wanna suck it, myself."

"Okay.  Tell you what, why don't you two get to know each other better.  I'm going to bed.  This is where I came in."  As I headed out of the room, I wondered if leaving them alone was a good idea.  But as the door clanked shut behind me I heard the sexy kid say to the football player, "Oh, take it, man!  You sure can suck cock!"  I knew I'd done the right thing.  I slept like a log, lulled by the sound of the never-ending showers.

 

Jack Sofelot

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