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.