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Thursday, March 6, 2014

All Male True Experience: Room With a View

By: Unknown Author
 
 

When I first moved to the West Coast, I moved into the upper floor of an old house. On one side of my house, the others that had been there had been torn down some years ago and the land was made into a parking lot. On the other side, the next two houses had been turned into offices, one a lawyers' office, the other a doctors' office. Next to those was an empty lot, and next to that was an old, abandoned garage, which was right on the corner.

Across the street, all of the old houses had been torn down, and in their place a two-storey YMCA had been built. It wasn't the best street in the world, but it was all I could afford, and it had its advantages. It was pretty quiet at night, and, I soon discovered, had a great view, a view that is, from my living room window, right into the second level of the YMCA, where the sleeping quarters were. I had some great views of some pretty hot guys, mainly just seeing them getting undressed or walking back in their room from the showers and taking off their towel before putting on their underwear or getting in the bed.

Besides being a place full of men, this YMCA was used a lot by the military. Some of these guys stayed for weeks at a time, while others only passed a night or two. Regardless, I got totally adept at juggling a pair of binoculars in one hand and my horny cock in the other as I took in their naked bodies and dangling cocks.

One guy, who stayed for a long time, had that look of the perfect boy next door, only in uniform. He was a horny little bastard too! Every night he'd come in, strip off his clothes, pull out a girly magazine from under his bed and beat off for hours at a time.

Naturally, I was watching and beating right along with him. Once, I even invited some friends over to look. We had a circle jerk and fought over the binoculars while that horny kid unknowingly put on a show for us across the street.

There was a pretty good coffee shop on the ground floor of the Y, and I often ate supper there when I was too tired after work, or just too plain lazy to cook for myself. One evening as I was mowing down on a tuna melt, I glanced up and saw that the young sailor I'd been watching had come in and was sitting in a booth facing me. This was the first time I had ever come across him, outside of my window, and I couldn't help but stare and got mental images of him lying on his bed naked, beating his meat.

He eventually caught my stare, and when he did his expression was hostile at first, but then his look softened and he even smiled and nodded. I returned the smile and nod and went back to finishing my dinner, only daring to look up at him again when I saw him getting up to leave, managing to get a good look at the guy's hot little ass, crammed into the pair of faded blue jeans he was wearing while off duty.

Figuring he was going to head back to his room, and most likely beat an after-dinner load from his cock, I hurriedly finished my supper, dropped off my tray to the return area, and headed to the washroom to take a quick piss before running across the street to my house to take in the show that would hopefully be taking place.

When I pushed through the washroom door I was a bit surprised to find the sailor standing at the sink washing his hands. A smile and nod was exchanged once again, and I headed over to the urinal to relieve my bladder.

I had barely finished taking my dick out of my pants when the sailor boy walked over and took position in front of the urinal next to mine. I kind of thought that was odd. Not only had he already been in there for a few minutes before me, plenty of time to take a piss, but most guys use the washroom first, and then wash their hands, not the other way around.

"I know you?" he asked, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him.

"Don't think so," I replied, also staring straight ahead at the wall.

"Hmm, I saw you looking at me and at first I was annoyed that you were starin', but then I thought you looked familiar and figured you were lookin' because you thought you knew me too. You sure we don't know each other? I could swear I've seen you somewhere before."

"I live across the street," I told him. "And I come to the coffee shop at the Y for supper quite a lot, so maybe you've seen me here before, or seen me outside my house."

"That's it!" he exclaimed. "You're the guy who's been watching me with binoculars from across the street."

I almost pissed on my foot when he said that, and started to panic inside. I couldn't deny it since I already told him I lived across the street and he clearly had seen me watching him, and, being a sailor, there was no way I could physically defend myself against his training, so I decided being defensive was the best route to go.

"I wasn't watching you! I like to look at the stars. That's all I was doing!" I blurted.

"There are no stars in my room," he laughed, "And I saw you with your binoculars pointed straight at my window."

"Yeah, well, I'll admit when I brought the binoculars down from the sky I caught glimpse of you, but if you don't want people to see you whacking off, you should really close your blinds! It's not like I needed to see that!" I said as I stuffed my cock back in my pants and quickly turned to leave.

He grabbed my arm and my whole body tensed, preparing to be punched in the face or gut, or both.

"Who said I didn't want anyone to see?" he said with a grin and a squeeze on my arm. "And, maybe you didn't need to see that, but you wanted to, didn't you?"

I didn't know what to say and just stuttered as I tried to come up with a response.

"You like to do more than just watch?" he asked as he took a look at my crotch, and then grazed the back of his hand over it. "I'm really hoping you do."

After that I was pretty sure he wasn't going to hurt me, pretty sure it wasn't a trick to get me outside where he could beat the crap out of me, but I was still leery of the situation. Still, I figured I had nothing to lose and at that point it was worth the risk to possibly get with him. "Y-yeah," I began nervously. "You, uh, wanna give your hand a break and come over to my place and get that thing sucked instead?"

"Actually, I was kinda lookin' to get fucked tonight," he answered. "You into that?"

All I could do was nod, not believing what was happening.

"Then let's go," he said.

The clothes came off quickly once we got to my place, and there was no foreplay of any sort, no kissing, no cocksucking, nothing. This sailor really wanted to get fucked badly, and wanted it right away. So we got to it right off the bat, and as I began to work my cock into his ass, I could tell by the way he relaxed that this young sailor was no stranger to getting fucked. Even so, it must have been a while since the last time he'd had a cock up there, because his hole was really tight, and it took me several tries and half a tube of KY before I got all the way into him.

Once I had, fucking him was like riding a bucking bronco. He was really crazy for the feel of cock up his little butt. He knew how to use his ass muscles to milk me, too. Of course, I was so horny at the thought of fucking this sailor I'd been watching through my binoculars for so long that I came almost at once.

I flopped back on the bed, exhausted, but the sailor boy rose up and straddled my chest and force fed me his hard cock. It wasn't long before my cock was getting hard again, and as soon as he saw that it was stiff he pulled his dick from my mouth and squatted over it, sliding it easily right up his well-greased hole.

The second round of fucking lasted quite a while, what with his hole being pretty loose from the first fuck and my having cum once already. It was heaven, my cock totally rigid felt fantastic up his hole, and because I wasn't even close to cumming I knew I could just relax and enjoy the feeling while he did all the work.

After I'd fucked him for a good long while, he started beating his big cock as he started riding me really hard. I saw his piss slit widen, immediately followed by a jet of cum shooting out, almost in slow motion. The first blast shot way up past my head. The second squirt hit me on the chin, and the third on my chest. The rest kind of landed in a big puddle on my stomach.

Once he came down from his orgasm he pulled himself off my cock, lubed his fist with his cream, and then reached down and whacked me off until I shot a load of cum up in the air, and then splattering down on my own body, and his hand.

As we lay beside each other on the bed breathing heavily, he spoke first and said, "I've been hoping that you watching me beat off would lead to something like this. What about you?"

"Honestly," I said, "I never thought about it happening. I mean, you beat off to those girly mags so much, I just assumed you were straight."

He laughed. "Those were left behind by some other guy. I just found them when I got the room, and, well, you use what you got."

"Well, you really seemed to get off on looking at those naked women. I mean you did it like every night, over and over."

Again he laughed. "Well, once I knew you were watching, I kept doing it every chance I could, because you were watching. Like I said, I was hoping it would lead to something more, and it did. Oh, and I really liked it when you brought a few of your guy buddies over and let them watch me too."

"Wow, you saw everything! How come you saw me looking, but I never once saw you looking at me?"

"Navy training," he said with a laugh. "We're trained to spy on the enemy without them knowing. Comes in handy at other times as well," he said with a wink.

"Well, I'll definitely keep watching, and I'll even invite my buddies over sometime too, so make those shows great."

"No more shows," he said.

"No? How come? You shipping out?" I asked disappointed.

"No, not quite yet. But why just watch when you can have the real thing, right here in your bed, any time you want it?"

He had a point, and I fucked him every night for the next week. Then, one day, he just disappeared and I never saw him again, except for in my dreams. He's definitely one of my favorite jack-off memories.
 
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