Staying at a Youth Hostel for a Conference in DC

NCbear

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This is largely true. I'd sent in an abstract for a conference in DC, and then realized I had very little money to pay for the hotel ($250/night wasn't affordable, even though it was the "conference rate"). The pissy hotel reservation guy dared me to find a better price for lodging in DC.

So I found a little hostel about eight blocks from the hotel, up near the Supreme Court building, that was cheap ($35/night for a bunk bed in a dormitory-style room). I enjoyed it a lot. I especially enjoyed seeing a young Swedish bodybuilder type who was here on business: He had a conference to attend, too--but his was on military-grade electronics and located in a different hotel.

Read on for more about what happened . . . .

(to be continued later) :tongue:
 

NCbear

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After the older lady from the registration desk had shown me up to the second-floor "male dormitory" room (really, two side-by-side rooms) in the hostel, walking with me up the creaky wooden stairs in the 1880s mansion just a few blocks from the Capitol in DC, I looked around to find that I was in a bright, sun-filled room on the south side of the building. Even though it was early October and already late evening (around 7:00), the sun was warm and people were jogging outside in shorts and t-shirts.

I chose a lower-level bunk in the outermost room so I could look up at the night sky later. No one else was in either room, so I put my stuff away in the nearby closet and went to park my car and get some bottled water.

When I walked back, the street lights were already on, although the sun's light hadn't quite faded from the western edge of the sky. The male dormitory room was full of that dark golden-orange glow that only happens around sunset.

Right after I came back, the other guys staying there came in, individually or in small groups. An Irish guy in his late 20s, two guys from Thailand in their early 20s, and two from China in their early 30s. One, in his 50s, from the United States. (He and I were the oldest ones there.)

And then this tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped European man came through the door carrying a dark brown leather duffel that almost exactly matched his flight jacket. He said hello and shook hands all around (that smile! that military haircut! those green eyes!), said his name was Axel Gustavson, and then shrugged out of his jacket, pullover, jeans, and shoes and stood there ready to get into bed at 8:30 p.m. in a skin-tight pair of white boxer briefs and his socks.

Wow! This guy looked like Michael Phelps, but with an ass -- and a big thick bulge in front that was about the size of one of those kielbasas you get these days at the state fair. It had showed up well even through his European-style jeans.

He talked a little more with me and a couple of other guys -- he said he was sleepy from the long plane trip from Sweden, he was here for a military electronics conference in a hotel in downtown DC, and he was a guy who "liked to do sport" :wink: -- before he curled up in the lower bunk bed across from mine, lying on his side with just the sheet over his massively muscled chest and shoulders, his tight abs and big crotch bulge showing.

He was only four feet away! I found my hands trembling (a sure sign of arousal, for me) and grabbed up my blanket and balled it up in front of my crotch so he wouldn't see my instant hardon.

He was asleep in moments. He even slept like an angel -- no snoring, no nasty drooling, nothing that normal guys do. And even when he rolled over, he didn't throw things everywhere. Instead, in his sleep he let the thin sheet drop from his shoulders as he rolled onto his back, his thick cock bulging even more in his white boxer briefs. In fact, he was getting hard.

The other guys were getting ready to go to sleep -- brushing their teeth and so forth -- and they were straight, so they weren't staring at this guy with the same intensity that I was. I just lay there on my side looking at him, sprawled out on his bed, while the thin sheet went lower and lower, the bulge in his briefs got larger and larger, and the night sky got darker and darker.

After about an hour, my cock relented enough for me to go and brush my teeth as well. (Well, he'd also turned on his other side so all I could see was his rather fine ass.) Already, many of the guys were asleep, and most of the lights were off in the room. One or two were quietly talking, and the older American was reading.

I came back and stripped down to my briefs and turned off my bunk's light. In a few minutes, the others had turned off their lights as well. And then the show began.

(to be continued)
 
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NCbear

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To get the full effect, you have to picture it in your mind's eye. Imagine first that you are in a small room full of windows on the second floor of an old mansion -- a south-facing room, with four bunk beds in it, almost all of them with a young(ish) man occupying both levels of the beds. Imagine that the lights are all out and that the only light is coming from the streetlights outside the windows (which do not have blinds).

And then imagine that a really sexy, muscular, young, and horny European guy is only four feet away from your bed and that his cockhead has begun to push upward under the elastic band of his boxer briefs toward his navel.

What I didn't say before was that he had absolutely NO hair on his chest or stomach, and only a little bit on his legs. His body really looked like Michael Phelps's, only with a tight little bubble butt that showed his predilection for "a little sport." (Probably bicycling or roller-blading or skiing. Something that developed his . . . muscles.)

I couldn't close my eyes, much less sleep. He was lying on his back, the sheet completely off his body. The elastic band of his briefs had caught his foreskin, holding it back so that his drooling cockhead was revealed, little by little, as he got harder and harder. In the dim light I could see the precome collect in his tight little navel between those perfect abs.

This went on for several minutes until he obviously started having a sex dream. His cock started pulsing rhythmically, leaking more and more precome, and his hips started thrusting upward.

I looked around to see whether anyone else was observing the show. Everyone else was asleep.

His hips started thrusting harder. I had an idea.

Getting out of bed and coming over to him without stepping on a creaking floorboard was difficult, but I managed it. I knelt beside him and took the elastic band of his boxer briefs with both hands. I slid my hands out to his hips and moved the center of the elastic band to where it would tease his frenulum every time he thrust upward.

Sure enough, he started breathing harder on every thrust. Suddenly, he groaned and gasped and his cock spurted several long strings of thick come onto his chest and abs. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

His eyes opened before I could get back to my bunk.

(to be continued)
 

NCbear

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Looking up at me, he smiled and sighed at the same time. Then he noticed that he was still breathing hard and that his stomach was covered with come.

"Damn!" He exclaimed, but quietly. His face turned so red I could see it in the dim light. "Did you see me come?"

"Yes," I admitted, softly. "It was amazing." And then I lied a little. "I tried to wake you up so you wouldn't wake anyone else up."

"Sorry," he whispered, in his accented but very fluent English. "Did I make a lot of noise?"

"No," I said. "You just moved around a bit, and I'm a light sleeper." Then I decided to risk a little bit. "I'm glad I didn't miss the show."

He looked down at those perfect abs, sheepishly. "Um, thanks. I'll get a towel and clean up."

I went back over to my bunk, just four feet away, while he got out of bed, took off his underwear, and rubbed the come off with his dry towel. I confess: My eyes were wide open the whole time, and he didn't seem to care that I was watching him. In the light from outside, he looked like a statue come to life. Night at the Museum, indeed!

He left and went to the bathroom. I heard him piss, loud and strong, and then the flush (sounding like Niagara Falls in the middle of the night) and the creaking floor as he came back to the room.

One of the other guys sort of snuffled and turned over in his sleep, and Axel paused suddenly on the balls of his feet like a cat. Then he slipped between the covers and lay still.

After a few moments, he spoke up, quietly.

"Good night, man," he said. "I think after this I'll sleep well." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"No doubt," I said. "Good night."

(to be continued)
 
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NCbear

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The next day was long and tiring. I of course had to get up early and shower and change into work clothes (coat and tie) and get ready to make my presentation, so I was out of the hostel before the others awakened. I was also at the conference the whole day.

That evening, when I came back to the hostel around 7:00 or so after the conference dinner, Axel wasn't around. His luggage was still there, though.

I knew I was leaving early in the morning, so I went ahead and stripped down to my underwear and got in bed, turning on my side so I could fall asleep quicker. I'd already set my watch alarm to go off at 4:30 so I could leave by 6:00 a.m. (I had to be back at work in NC by noon to keep from missing an important webinar, and the drive is about 5.5-6 hours).

I woke to the "beep-beep-beep" of my watch under my pillow. Everything else was quiet, but when I looked over at Axel's bunk, his eyes were open and he was watching me.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I didn't realize my watch was that loud."

"I was already awake," he whispered back. "You were the one making some noise." The smile was definitely in his voice this time.

I looked down, and sure enough, my hard cock was tenting the sheets, and there was a wet spot by the tip. I told myself we were both men and I shouldn't feel embarrassed.

"My cock has a mind of his own." I grinned at Axel, who smiled crookedly back. "He'll get soft after I piss."

Still hard as a rock and dripping, I gathered up my shower stuff and towel and tiptoed to the bathroom as he watched, lying on his side. From that angle, I couldn't tell whether he was aroused by what he was seeing or not.

Pissing through a hard-on is difficult, but I managed it without splattering all over the walls. Then I chose a one-stall shower cubicle, turned on the hot water, pulled the curtain tight, and started waking up. (Other people use coffee; I have to have hot water running over me, as hot as I can stand it.)

Damn, it felt great! I felt warm and relaxed as I stood toweling off, my shower curtain open.

I heard a knock at the door and then a whisper. "Hey man, can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure. It's not locked." I was up so early I didn't see the need to lock the door--and besides, I'm not shy about my body. Three older brothers and an upbringing including Boy Scout camps and swimming pool locker rooms had cured me of my shyness early.

Axel--dressed in a dark blue pair of underpants similar to his white ones--came in, glanced at my face and then my naked body, his eyes lingering on my cock, and then went to the toilet. He pissed loud and strong again and then flushed.

Turning around to face me, he grabbed his package and tugged at it. "Damn, that felt good."

I saw an opening. "As good as last night?"

He blushed slightly. "It's not the same." He stretched both muscular arms up toward the high ceiling. If I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn he was preening like a bodybuilder.

I stepped out of the shower and pulled one foot out of my flipflops, bending down to dry off my toes, my other hand on the cubicle wall for balance.

Suddenly, I saw bare feet in my field of vision that weren't mine. I looked up a bit and saw a big hard dark blue bulge only about a foot away.

(to be continued)
 

NCbear

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NC ... I'm callin' coitus interruptus right now.
Unfair.
Back to work, sir.:cool:
Excellent so far.

That's funny--when 18th and 19th century novelists used this technique, it was called a cliffhanger. :biggrin1::tongue:

NCbear (who appreciates the responses :smile:)
 
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Smartalk

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Great story gaining in pace but not losing its stong story line. I feel there is a lot more adventure to come out of the one. And Rubi don't keep your finger on the Coitus Interuptus button to long