A corner of the drape was open just enough to throw a shaft of dim yellow light into the dark night, giving faint illumination to the unlit motel passageway. As I came to the light, heading past it towards my own room, I glanced in, not really intending to. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. A naked man was reflected in a floor-length mirror. He was lying in bed on his back, muscular legs spread wide. He held a copy of a popular gay porno magazine in one hand, which shielded his face, while his other hand held his erect thick cock. He was slowly pumping the big organ, causing the large pair of balls beneath to move up and down in the dark crevice between his heavy thighs in rhythm to the unfaltering motion of his fist.

What a sight! I wanted to move on, to leave him to his solitary pleasures, but I just couldn't. It instantly occurred to me that he may have purposely left open the slit of drapery in the event an interested party were to pass by and sneak a peek, and since he was reading a gay magazine, maybe this was just his way of saying "Howdy." Such reasoning was probably the result of the couple of beers I'd just had, but I figured what'd be the harm in watching him for a moment or two. See what comes up.

You know what came up. The scene hit me right in the groin. In record time I had a hardon demanding more space, less clothing and a friendly hand. I pressed my palm down against the throbbing length of it, considering my options. I could go to my own room and jack off like a good little boy. I could stay here and watch him, which risked being caught. I could stay here and jack off while he jacked off, which seemed seriously more risky and very dangerous. I could knock on the door and tell him I was taking the census or something, but that seemed unreasonable. As I palmed my erection, pondering these possibilities, he suddenly put down the magazine. Can he see me? I wondered, on the verge of panic.

He wasn't looking at me; he was looking intently at his own enflamed erection. The helmet-shaped knob was twice the diameter of the shaft, shiny with excitement and with lubricating fluids seeping from the large, easily seen slit indented at the top. Skin slid smoothly partway over the bulbous cockhead as his hand continued the effortless movement up and down the large cock. His lips formed an "O", and he seemed to be blowing cooling air onto the hot organ. With narrowed eyes, he appeared on the verge of orgasm.

My own cock was producing so much precum it was making the inside of my fly wet. I figured I'd ease it out, for a second, just to give it some breathing space. I unzipped slowly, trying to make no noise. In the stillness of the night air, each pop of the zipper sounded to me like a firecracker going off. The dangerously illicit atmosphere heightened my arousal. I tugged my cock free and found it was as strained to complete rigidity as it had ever been, only a stroke or two from orgasm itself.

The man-in-the-mirror's fist slowed, pounding down the cock, jarring his balls, which by now had tightened up against the thick cockbase. Once. Twice. I joined in the intense beat. A third stroke. A fourth. A fifth. A sixth. My breathing stopped. Energies swirled and circled throughout my abdomen. My muscles contracted as I watched his muscles tense, his feet pull together. Then a rope of white semen shot out of his cockhead with great speed, sailed towards the ceiling, went up above the range of the mirror, and then came back down to splash onto his heaving, broad expanse of chest muscle. In that instant, I came, too. The first amazingly vivid shot sprayed out, sailed through the shaft of light and landed with a splat somewhere in the darkness beyond. I caught the rest of many jets of cum in my other hand, trying to keep still, but wanting to cry out. I kept watch as his orgasm continued, hurling out blast after blast of white jism onto his chest, stomach and hand. He kept beating his meat long after the flow of juices had ebbed, then brought his fist to his mouth and lapped at the residues. I tiptoed past to my room marveling at what I'd just seen and surprised at what I'd just done.

Early the next morning, as I was heading for the motel restaurant, his door burst open a split-second before I reached it. He came bounding out. He was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. "G'mornin'" he greeted me in a sexy, low voice. It happened just as I absolutely unintentionally found myself looking at that damn crack in the drape through which I'd seen him, though you couldn't see into the room in the morning lighting. Then I looked up into his face and, still moving and feeling so embarrassed I didn't know what I was doing, I bumped right into him as if I had no control over my own movements. I blushed furiously. "Sorry," I sputtered.

He put a strong hand on each of my arms, near the shoulders, to steady me, and said, "Hey, no harm done." He laughed, large white teeth gleaming. He was very handsome. I smiled at him and moved back a step. He held onto my arms for a moment, looked at the crack in the drape, then looked back into my eyes. He smiled and dropped his hands to his sides. "Stayin' here long?" he asked. His eyes gave me the once over, very carefully, head to toe, lingering at the crotch. I felt my face flush again. He grinned.

"A day or two more," I managed to say. "How about you?" I found myself staring directly at his bulging crotch. I looked up to see him grinning at me again, as if reading my mind.

"Another week. It's a nice place." He put a hand to his chest, rubbed idly, and looked around as if to reconfirm his opinion.

"Yeah, it is." I said, trying desperately to think of something clever to say that would keep the conversation going.

"Hope to see ya around," he said, patting my arm. He went back into his room and closed the door. I wondered why he had come out just then. I told myself, "He knows! He saw me! He heard my zipper. For Christ's sake, he watched me cum!" Then I realized I was just reacting to my own guilt and embarrassment and I went off to breakfast.

That very evening, as I came back from dinner at about the same time as the previous evening, I was expecting to find the drapery securely in place. Imagine my surprise to see it sending out an even larger ray of light into the darkness. I got a hardon, just seeing it up ahead. Keeping very quiet, I went up and peeked in. There he was, again! Naked! Reflected in the mirror. Legs spread wide, a copy of a different gay magazine held with one hand, his tall-standing cock in the other. It was even more exciting than the first time, but it was still as dangerous to stay and watch him. The danger seemed to compel me to stop. It acted on me like an aphrodisiac, causing my demanding erection to ache with lust.

Suddenly, he put down the magazine and turned his head directly towards the window, not by looking into the mirror. "Did he hear me?" I wondered. He turned his head away from the window, towards the bathroom, and said something I couldn't hear. That surprised me. He had a guest! A shadow fell across his body as someone moved from the bathroom to the bed. Suddenly a tall, naked, muscular male was standing next to the bed reflected in the mirror, toweling himself off, his crotch displaying a large, partially erect cock swaying in front of a big set of balls. He dropped the towel on the bed, leaned down, and replaced the fist of his friend with his own hand, pumping the big cock with an obvious familiarity. Wow! I thought. I watched his own cock responding to the contact of his hand on his lover's cock. It became solid, long and full. He took it in his other hand and brought it quickly to matching alertness. He played with a big cock in each hand. They grinned and appeared to be talking to one another.

The prone figure started flexing his muscles, driving cock up into the other's pumping hand. Quickly, they were becoming serious. The Pumper shifted to kneel at the hip of his friend, knees very wide-spread, balls bouncing in their sac, contact with neither cock interrupted, until the prone man took his own cock in hand and maintained a matching stroke. Both continued the mutual jack off, rubbing each other and themselves with their free hands. They were talking to one another in tones I couldn't hear, but realized would have been exciting to overhear. I imagined them urging each other on with phrases like, "Beat that meat, man. Com'on, work up a big load."

I couldn't help myself. I freed my cock and joined in their hypnotic rhythm, stroking it in tempo with theirs. Up and down. Up and down, now at the cockhead, now at the base, just as they were doing. It felt fantastic yet completely dangerous, sort of crazy, but somehow linked with them. I sensed they were both aware of the slit in the drapery and they knew someone might be watching. I felt my orgasm building, spreading throughout my whole being.

The two lovers were near orgasm, too, I could tell. Their matching strokes were becoming tighter, shorter, more emphatic. Suddenly, a long rope of sperm shot up onto the chest of the kneeling man, and almost simultaneously his partner shot a jet of sperm straight up into the air and down onto his own chest and stomach. I sucked in my breath in awe and admiration, and suddenly found myself lifted onto that orgasmic plateau where time stops, hearing is gone, the body tingles from scalp to sole, and gush after gush of ropy semen jets out. I caught most of it in my hand. Then, like a thief in the night, I stole away into the darkness. It left me feeling guilty having watched them, on the one hand, but on the other, they were so fucking exciting only a eunuch would have been unmoved. And somehow the open drape had seemed like an invitation.

Early the next morning, just as I was about to pass his doorway, he bounded out almost bumping into me. This time he was wearing only his jeans, no shirt, and no shoes. He had a sexy navel adorned with fine, light hair that thickened and darkened as it trailed downward to be hidden by the low slung jeans. I glanced into his room, wondering if his lover were still there, but seeing only blackness.

"Yer up early," he said with a grin.

"You too. You're even almost dressed," I said with a smile.

"Yeah, almost." He rubbed his hand along the waistband of the jeans, stopping in the center, two fingers down under the material. I stared at his hand. I knew he was touching himself. I could almost see him playing with his cock. I felt my face flush. God, he was so sexy. But he seemed reluctant to speak.

"Is something the matter?" I asked in a quiet voice.

"No, no," he said, looking into my eyes. He held them with a bold, daring look. "It's just that..." He hesitated.


"It's just that you're so..." he paused, "...you're so handsome, I find it difficult to talk to you," he blurted.

I put a hand to my chin in surprise. "You are, too!" I said in all sincerity.

"Listen, why don't you stop by for a drink this evening? Say, around 9 o'clock. What do you say? Let's get to know one another." He smiled.

I looked, completely unintentionally, right at the crack in the drapery, wondering how I would look to someone peeking in. He must have read my thoughts.

"Don't worry, we'll be alone."

I wondered exactly what he meant, but I said, "Fine. I'd like that. See you at 9." He popped back into his room and shut the door before I could ask him his name.

After spending the entire day fantasizing about how the evening with him would turn out, I found myself knocking at his door a few minutes before 9 o'clock. My first impression, when he opened the door, was that he was naked. It took my breath away. Then I realized he had on a brief swimsuit, which was smaller than a jockstrap.

"Hi! Com'on in," he said, enthusiastically. "I just had a swim in the pool. I was going to shower when I heard your knock." He backed up and let me enter the room. I saw us both reflected in the large mirror I'd been looking through the past two nights. I smiled at myself in the mirror, then at him directly.

"Go ahead, take your shower," I said. "I can wait."

"Ok. I will, if you don't mind. I don't like to sit around in a wet swimsuit." With that he turned his back to me in an apparent effort to be modest, and slid off the wet suit, exposing a muscular, well-shaped buttocks. In the mirror, I saw the front of him. His attempt at modesty hadn't worked very well. He looked up, realized I was looking at him in the mirror, and grinned. He fluffed up his patch of cockhair, skinned back his cock and said, "Guess I forgot about the mirror."

I felt like saying I didn't, but I just smiled at him through it. I felt my cock lurch. He casually walked to the bathroom and started the shower. I liked his casual, locker room approach to nudity. It was natural and masculine, yet it was also very sexy. He called out from under the shower, "Hey, what is your name?"

I called to him. "It's Jack. What's yours?"

"What did you say? I can't hear you. Why don't you come in here?"

I walked into the bathroom and saw him behind a clear glass shower door, shining in his nakedness, lathering up. He looked splendid. Wavy lines in the glass distorted his figure somewhat, but I knew how perfectly formed he was. I couldn't control my erection.

"I said my name is Jack. What's yours?"

"It's Richard, but my friends call me Big Dick."

"Yes," I said with a laugh, "I imagine they do." He laughed with me.

"Wanna join me in the shower?" Just like that. Out of the blue. The guy was amazing.

"It might be embarrassing," I said.

"Why is that?" He slid the door partway open and looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"I've got a hardon," I admitted.

"Well, join the party," he cried, as he slid open the shower door, "I'll have one in a second or two, myself. I knew you'd be fun to get to know the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Me, too," I agreed, but he didn't realize the depth of meaning my admission carried. I stripped and stepped carefully into the shower. He took the back of my arm to guide and steady me. Contact with him was exciting. My erection was undiminished, full-blown, and throbbing. I hadn't lied to him. I saw him give it the once over, sizing it up, mentally comparing it to his own and to others he'd seen. You know how you do that, automatically, uncontrollably. After all, a hardon is something you LOOK AT. He seemed impressed.

"Wow, you are great!" he whispered. He began lathering my body with soapy hands. His touch was exhilarating. I let him do whatever he wanted. He lathered every part of my body, leaving nothing untouched. He dwelled on my pecs and seemed excited by my hard nips, spending lots of time on them. He knelt down and soaped my legs, giving me that opulent feeling of being attended to by an adoring slave. His slippery hands kept returning to my scrotum. Then he turned me around to soap my back and ass, pushing the wet bar of sudsy soap right into the tight crack.

He stood up, sliding against my body, turning me around. We embraced tenderly, not frantically. I took the soap from him and duplicated his actions, learning the intimate details of his powerfully built body. Kneeling in front of him was as exciting as having him kneel in front of me, making me feel like I was under the power of a benevolent sex master. After soaping his muscular ass, probing to and cleaning the asshole, I turned him around, fascinated by his enormous erection gleaming proudly above tightly encased huge balls. His cock was ready for action. Seeing it up close was fantastic. It was all I could do to keep from sucking the magnificent thing into my eager mouth.

He pulled me to my feet, our hardons contacting electrically. I reached down and grabbed them both, spending terrific moments holding the slippery cocks in my hands, beginning vague masturbatory caresses. He took over and continued the manipulation, drawing the masturbation to a more profound level. "Let's rinse and dry off," he whispered, nipping at my earlobe. It sent shivers of pleasure down my whole body.

We stood on the cool tile of the bathroom floor and dried one another. My cock had begun leaking copious amounts of sticky fluid. He was intrigued by the sheer volume and spent several minutes studying it, using a cool washcloth to wipe it away, and watching it immediately seep out of the fat slit at the tip of my cockhead. "Com'on," he said, and led me to the bedroom. Instead of going to the bed, which I expected, he brought us to stand in front of the full-length mirror. The two of us made an exciting pair of muscular, mature, thick-cocked jack-off specialists. "Look at us," we said in unison, simultaneously. We'd both been thinking the same thing. We looked stunning as each took hold of his cock and began a deliberate mutual masturbation.

"You like looking, don't you," he commented. It wasn't a question. Without waiting for a reply, he admitted, "So do I."

"Yeah, I love it."

"For the past two nights, I saw someone looking in here. I only caught a mere glimpse as he passed through the shaft of light from the partially opened drape. But each time it was right after I came, and each time I then heard your door open and close." It was a statement, not an accusation or threat. We didn't interrupt the rhythm of our masturbation.

"Do you keep the drapery open on purpose?" I didn't affirm or deny his comment.

"I like to show off. I guess maybe I'm an exhibitionist, so if someone wants to watch me jack off, it's all right with me."

"I loved watching you jack off. I came with you both nights," I admitted.

"You DID? Fantastic!" he cried and increased the tempo of the jack off. "You mean you came at the same time, or just soon after?"

"Simultaneously. Both nights," I confirmed, keeping up with his increasing tempo. "You're too sexy to ignore."

"Wow! I wasn't certain it really was you out there. I thought that maybe it was just a coincidence that I heard your door. Jeez, to stand out there and jack off with me..."

"And with your friend, last night, too," I interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, with Mike, too," he agreed absentmindedly, still concentrating on my admission. "Christ, I don't know if I'd have the fuckin' nerve."

"If you saw yourself in this mirror, like I saw you, you'd have the nerve, all right. I couldn't help myself. Anyway, you're the one who leaves the drapery open. What do you expect? It's open right now. Do you suppose someone is looking in? Is that what you want?"

"Would you mind?"

"Well, I guess not," I admitted. "I'm a confessed voyeur but I've got plenty of the exhibitionist in me, too. I even made a porno film for a friend, once. Who's out there?"

"I told Mike I reckoned we'd be in front of this mirror by 9:30, or the date with you would be a bust. He wasn't sure he could make it, but he is probably watching us right now. I wonder if HE has the nerve to jack-off out there. Let's invite him in."

Richard smiled at me and let go of his throbbing cock. He went to the door and opened it, sticking his head out. "You there, Mike?" he asked in a stage whisper.

I heard a grunt. I went over to the door to stand behind Richard, very curious about Mike's reaction to the scene he was watching. Richard moved back, bumping erotically into me, and gave Mike room to come in. The big man came out of the darkness with a smirk on his handsome face and a giant bulge in his trousers. The zipper on his fly was partway open. Richard noticed it immediately.

"Whatcha been doin', Mike? Beatin' off out there?"

Mike laughed and turned red. "I sure was thinkin' about it, Big Dick. You guys should see yourselves from out there. It's a real sex show. Very erotic."

"Jack, here, knows all about it. He watched the two of us jack off together last night."

"He did?" Mike asked. His voice was full of surprise.

"Yep, and he jacked off with us and came when we came."

"No shit. He did?" Mike looked at me with big eyes. Then he looked me over, up and down, ending at my cock. "Wow," he said quietly. "If we looked as good as you two look tonight, I don't blame you for jacking off out there. To tell you the truth, I put my cock away, just now, when you came to the door. If you hadn't invited my in, I don't think I could have stopped myself from doing it out there, too."

"Guess I'll have to try to get a look from out there, myself, just to see what it feels like," Richard said with a grin. We had moved back to the large mirror as we spoke. "Get out of those duds, Mike, and join us in person."

In a flash, Mike's shirt, pants, and shoes were off. He was as naked and as erect as we were, playing with his cock as we played with our own. I was next to the mirror on one side, he was on the other side, facing me, and Richard was in the middle. With the reflection in the big mirror, we looked like a six-man circle jerk.

"Jeez, look at us!"

"Yeah! Beat that meat! Man, what a sight."

"Yeah, pump it. Pound it. Beat it. Wow!"

I loved it. Standing there with these two handsome, muscular men, watching them and their reflections, seeing myself, and seeing myself as aroused as they were by the scene, sharing such a extraordinary moment with them, was incredible. Listening to the dirty talk, hearing meat being beaten, smelling the odors of aroused flesh, and watching ourselves, all combined to overwhelm me with a wonderful feeling of companionship and sexiness. It was a feeling that lifted me all too quickly to the brink of orgasm.

"Jeez, you guys are sexy. I'm about to come." My voice was husky with overpowering emotion. All three cocks were shiny with excitement and precum.

"Yeah, me too!"

"Me, too!"

"Let's do it together. Ooh, look... at... that!" We were stroking very slowly as I said "look" and "at", and when I said "that" the three of us started blasting out jets of jism. The first spurt sailed above eye level and dropped to the floor. Without comment, we all aimed towards the mirror and coated it with our heavy flood of juices, as splat after splat landed on our images in the mirror. It was terrific, lasting longer than any orgasm I can remember. None of us wanted it to stop.

Richard got some cool washcloths and we cleaned ourselves off. He also wiped the mirror and the floor. The three of us sat nude on the bed and talked, drinking some cold beer Richard had in a cooler. We made plans to do this again the next evening. The beer caused the need to urinate, so the three of us stood around the commode and pissed together, getting excited again, and wound up back again in front of the mirror for the second time. Through all of this, I kept wondering if someone were watching us. The crack in the drapery was as wide as ever that night and for the next two nights.

It's the only motel I've ever been reluctant to leave.


Jack Sofelot


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