Single Room Shared Bath

Author: Jesse Gambini

After four days of turmoil in Palermo, I was ready for some peace and quiet. I hoped to find it in Cefal∙, a small picture postcard town on the North Central coast of Sicily. There were no major attractions in the town except for the cathedral, the large rock formation from which the town derived its name, and a beach. My only interest was the beach. I had every intention of relaxing in the sun for three days and baking myself to a golden brown before I had to head back to the continent.

I arrived in Cefal∙ on a Monday, late in the morning. Finding a hotel room wasn’t a problem, but like all the other places I had stayed in during my two weeks in Sicily, I had to share a bathroom. After a few weeks of dealing with the bathroom down the hall, it wasn’t a problem, but I knew once I got back home the first thing I was going to do was soak in a nice hot tub. Until then, I would have to deal with bathing under less than ideal conditions.

It was off-season, so the hotel wasn’t completely booked. I only had to contend with one other neighbor on the third floor–a cute sandy-haired guy who I passed in the hall occasionally over my first couple of days. I assumed he was German since Sicily was crawling with German tourists that time of year. And I assumed that he assumed I was Italian. The mistake had been made many times in the course of a few weeks because of my Sicilian looks–thick dark hair and brown eyes that had been passed down from my grandfather who emigrated from Sicily to the United State before World War II.

I was lucky during my few days in Cefal∙–the weather was great–hot and sunny–and I spent my time lying on the beach during the day, relaxing at the cafщ on the piazza in the evenings, and enjoying the incredible food.

Like all good things, my time in Sicily had to end. I still had another week left of my vacation, but I had to make my way back to Milan where I would depart. I wasn’t looking forward to the train ride from Cefal∙ back to Italy. It was at least a ten hour trip from Cefal∙ to Naples, my next planned stop. A good chunk of that time was spent loading the train onto a ferry boat in Messina to cross the strait that separated Sicily from the mainland. The trip across the strait only took about 20 minutes, but it took at least an hour to load the train onto the boat and another hour to get it off.

The morning I planned to leave I got up at dawn, wanting to get an early start. I undressed in my small, but comfortable room, wrapped a towel around my waist, and made my way down the hall to the bathroom.

When I rounded the corner, I nearly knocked over my neighbor from the adjoining room–the cute sandy haired guy. He had the same hotel issued towel wrapped around his waist.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

“You speak English,” he said.

“Yeah, I speak English.”

When I recovered from the unexpected shock of bumping into him, I took a quick moment to check him out. We had been exchanging glances every time we passed each other on the streets, the lobby of the hotel, or in one of the cafщs or restaurants. Cefal∙ wasn’t a big town.

My neighbor was worth checking out–he was slim with some slight development in the chest, his skin was smooth and tanned a golden brown (but not as dark as mine) and a trail of dark hair ran from his navel, disappearing under the bright blue towel.

I couldn’t help but stare, but I knew if I didn’t stop, I was going to have a hard time hiding the growing bulge under my towel.

“You go first,” he said. “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

“But, you got here first,” I said.

“No, I insist,” he said. Not only was he cute, but he was polite. He struggled with his towel which had begun to slip lower around his waist. As he grasped it and pulled it tighter, I got a glimpse of public hair.

That was enough to get my cock hard enough to tent the towel to the point where he couldn’t help but notice. He glanced downward, his eyes locking on my growing bulge. My heart started hammering in my ears as a similar bulge began to grow under his towel.

He gulped and fidgeted nervously. “I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we share.”

“Share,” I said, smirking.

The bathroom was no bigger than the small bedroom closet in my apartment back home. A small sink was against the back wall, a toilet was jammed in practically under the sink, and the rest of the area–a 3 by 3 foot square was reserved for showering. The entire room, if you could call it a room, was tiled floor to ceiling in bright Mediterranean blue tiles, matching our towels.

We both squeezed into the bathroom, our backs against opposite walls. I was a little nervous. I was only used to sharing the shower at the gym. What if one of the hotel staff came by?

“Close the door,” he said. His voice was hushed, almost a whisper.

I quickly shut the sliding door and then smiled.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Ryan,” he said.

“I’m Tony.”

“Pretty cramped in here.” His comment seemed like a ridiculous attempt to make small talk.

“Yeah,” I said. I undid my towel and threw in on the sink. He followed suit and we stood there staring into each others eyes, our erections pointing toward the ceiling. I cleared my throat and then he kissed me.

We grappled in a mutual desire. My back pressed against the cool blue tiles as Ryan slipped his tongue in and out of my mouth. By the time he reached down with his pawing hands, my cock had lengthened and thickened to it’s full eight inches.

I kissed Ryan back with all the enthusiasm I could muster. I had been in a heightened state of arousal since arriving in Sicily–fucking horny would be a better way to put it. The hot weather, the new surroundings, and all the handsome men I saw on the street and tourist sites had my juices flowing.

Ryan seemed just as horny. He darted his tongue in and out of my mouth like it had been weeks, maybe months since he had kissed another man.

We both jumped when we heard somebody in the hall. I raised my fingers to my lips urging him to be quiet. It must have been the maid. As far as I knew, there was nobody else staying on our floor.

I reached around Ryan and turned on the shower. The spray of ice-cold water wasn’t enough to dampen our desires. The sound of the spraying water only concealed the grunts and groans of sex.

I kissed Ryan back forcefully, digging my fingers into his back. He responded by kissing me back, mashing his lips to mine.

We both started laughing when we both opened our eyes at the same time. His hair was wet, and stuck to his forehead. Drops of water beaded on his face. What struck me most were his eyes–they were the same blue-green color as the Mediterranean.

We stood there a few moments, just staring. It had been a while since I had found myself this attracted to anybody. I wasn’t going to get enough of him.

Without saying a word, Ryan dropped to his knees and gulped down my cock. The warmth of his mouth on my flesh sent my head swirling. The cold water was still spraying down on us as he bobbed up and down on my shaft, giving me the most incredible pleasure.

Ryan’s blowjob had me nuts in a few minutes and when he reached around and slipped his finger into my hole, I let out a cry that must have been heard by everybody in the hotel.

“Oh, fuck. Shit that’s it.”

The more I encouraged Ryan, the more he got into it and the more I enjoyed it. I was enjoying it so much I thought I was going to come, which I didn’t want to do so soon into our encounter.

The shower was getting to be too much. I was shriveling up. I reached over and shut off the water. Ryan looked up and stared into my eyes as the spray became a dribble.

“Let’s go to my room,” I said.

Ryan grabbed our towels and we quickly dried off.

The suitcase sitting in the middle of the floor only reminded me that I had planned on catching the train to Messina and then on to Naples. I was obviously going to have to adjust my plans, but I only had three more days to make it back to Milano.

“You checking out today?” asked Ryan. He must have sensed my now sudden desire to stay in Cefal∙.

“I was planning on it,” I said. “I only have a few days left on my trip.”

“Where you headed?” he asked. “I was going to check out today, too.”

“Going to take the train back to Naples and then to Florence and Milan,” I said.

“I’m on my way to Palermo.”

“Seems as if we’re headed in opposite directions,” I said. “I just came from Palermo.”

“We don’t have much time do we then?” he asked.

“No,” I said, dropping my towel on the floor. “We don’t. Let’s enjoy it.”

I reached out and grasped my Ryan’s hand. His hand was still damp. Lacing my fingers with his, I led him to the bed.

We paused before getting into bed, kissing again. This time more tenderly. I wrapped my arms around his waist and drew him close, his warm flesh warming mine as we locked in another kiss.

I eased him down on the bed. There wasn’t much room for the both of us. It was a single. Ryan pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug. My hot flesh pressed against his. The scent of soap lingered on our bodies.

Ryan lifted his hand and ran it through my hair, pushing the wet hair out of my eyes and then pulled my face to his. Crushing his lips to mine, he slipped his darting tongue into my mouth.

He continued to explore my hot flesh with his mouth, licking my ear and nibbling my earlobe. I gasped as his tongue slid inside my ear canal.

“Oh fuck, Ryan.”

His lips seared a path down my neck and then my shoulders. We both rolled over on our side, lying face to face. I grasped Ryan’s hips and pulled him closer, then rested the palm of my hands in the small of his back. He looked up and our eyes met. His expression grew stilled. In the dim morning light, filtering through the shuttered windows, I saw his whole face spread into a smile. I pulled Ryan closer and kissed his chin.