Date: Tue, 22 Nov 2005 20:44:16 -0500
From: skybolt@canoemail.com
Subject: Airport Encounters

I'm a MWM who travels a lot on business. I look for
opportunities to have fun with other men. Here are two TRUE
incidents that (amazingly) both happened within a month of
each other. Both were in the Atlanta airport, concourse B.
The urinals do not have privacy shields between them.

We landed at 11pm and the airport was pretty much deserted.
I entered the men's room. At a long row of urinals, I smiled
when I saw two guys standing next to each other. This was
noticeable because the rest of the urinals were vacant. They
didn't look the type. I KNOW you can't tell by looking! But
still...

I took a spot a respectable distance down. Nothing happened.
One simply finished up and left. The other lingered,
although I guessed he had to have finished peeing. A quick
glance to scope out the situation revealed he was mid-30s,
suit pants, golf jacket, dress shirt, no tie, and wore a
wedding ring. He stood back just far enough that I could see
his dick and see that he was fondling himself. He sported a
semi-hard penis. That last discovery sort of gave my brain
an OK signal to glance a bit longer. He returned the glance.
Of course, we both quickly looked away. But we shook our
cocks and it was obvious there was interest. A few men
entered, did their business, and left. But married
businessman and I stood our ground. When the men's room was
again empty, he stepped back from the urinal and
demonstrated a full, raging erection.

Although a lot of the fun for me is the slow development of
situations like this, I'll speed up the story and write that
one by one he changed urinals as someone would pick his way
amongst stepping stones. He positioned himself next to me.
The men's room was empty except for us. He was left handed
and I was on his right side (I'm right handed) so we enjoyed
unobscured views of each other's manhood. His dangling right
hand raised itself in the direction of my dick. As his warm
fingers encircled my hard, smooth shaft, his sigh told me
reached a state of Nirvana. He enjoyed what I call
"experiencing another man" -- he enjoyed the connection of
an intimate act with another male. Sometimes the connection
is just as satisfying as an orgasm. The whole while he
continued to masturbate. I leaned toward him and whispered,
"I want to see you shoot your load." He smiled broadly and
worked his cock while alternating between grasping mine and
squeezing my ass. He smiled a lot. I liked that. Within a
minute, five good spasms of jism blasted the urinal. I saw
every creamy, loping wad of cum. In his moment of afterglow
I put my arm around his shoulder and whispered, "You'll
sleep well tonight." Knowing I'd have the opportunity to
enjoy sex at home with my wife, I zipped up and walked out.

``````````````````

Four weeks later I had an Atlanta airport men's room
experience similar to the first -- but a bit more bizarre.
Here's the short version: It was about 9pm. Four men
(including me) happened to arrive at the row of urinals
within a minute of each other. We all peed but lingered a
bit longer than we should. Lots of shaking and furtive looks
occurred. We showed semi-hard dicks. The two guys on my left
exited after a couple minutes of playfully showing off their
equipment. It was titillating. The guy on my right (Latin,
30's, heavy set, very dark uncut meat) was obviously over-
the-top excited by this happenstance. He stiffened up and
masturbated to completion. I watched him ooze into the
urinal. It was hot.