Disclaimer:
The following story contains homoerotic situations between consenting male adults. If you are offended by this content, or if it is illegal for you to read this type of material, please read no further.
The following story is fiction; any resemblance between any character and any real person is coincidental. Please do not copy or distribute the story without the author's permission.
Astoria Park Adventure: Part 1
It was a sweltering night, and my apartment was a furnace, so I decided to take a walk around my new neighborhood in Astoria. The apartment complex fronted 20th Street and 21st Avenue, about 3 blocks from the East River. I had discovered that a refreshing breeze would usually be blowing down by the river, but the cooling benefits of this breeze rarely penetrated the several blocks to my complex.
It was a couple of months since my breakup, and I was lonely, so as I walked I was on the look out for cute guys. I sauntered down sidewalk fronting the river enjoying the breeze until I came to Astoria Park. Hell Gate Bridge soars over the southern end of the park, and the Triborough Bridge marks the northern boundary.
A pool is the central feature of the park, and as I walked by the pool, I noticed some interesting guys wandering up and down the paths and thought, "Bingo!" A quick detour up onto the deck which overlooked the pool confirmed my suspicions: This was a cruising ground.
I continued on my trek, and it was around 11 p.m. or so when I wandered back by the park. I was a bit leery of going in because there were a bunch of signs that said the park closed at 9 p.m. But since there were several straight couples necking on benches, some dog walkers, and a couple of groups of teens hanging out, I figured undue caution wasn't necessary, and I entered the park.
I circled the pool area a couple of times to get the lay of the land, and then I climbed the stairs up to the deck. The place was deserted. Damn! I was heading toward the steps at the other end when a guy I'd seen earlier sitting in his car up on the street appeared on the stairway I was headed for. I detoured over to the rail and stared at the pool.
This guy was about 5'11" and weighed around 185 pounds or so. His short black hair was a couple of inches long and parted on the right. He appeared to be somewhere between 25 or 35 (probably closer to the latter) and was wearing baggy beige shorts and a loose black t-shirt. The dark shirt caused his swarthy skin to appear lighter, and as he got closer I could see curly black hair covering his arms and legs; a few tufts even peeked out of the collar of his shirt.
As he continued to approach, his gait modified to something of a swagger. He glanced at me when he walked past, and when he had gotten almost to the other end of the deck, he looked back over his shoulder. I was looking, but I didn't stare; I'm rather shy in situations like this, and I really didn't know what I wanted, anyway. I mean, I'd just come out for a walk, right?
At 29 years old, I'm 5'8" and weigh 165 pounds. I don't work out, but I've got a fairly average build. I have brown hair cut in a buzz and dark brown eyes. I'm on the pale side right now, but that's nothing a week in the sun can't remedy. My legs are slender but muscled; "runner's legs" a couple of folks have called them, and indeed I used to run quite a bit. On the night I'm relating, I was wearing a maroon t-shirt and dark blue soccer shorts with a white strip down the leg.
I've always been curious about how guys size up other guys. I'm no good at it; I know what's pleasing to my eyes, but it's beyond me how you figure out if a guy's going to be compatible once you're flesh-to-flesh. I can't figure out how guys look at other guys and are able to intuit what they're into. I mean, I look like an average guy, neither butch nor at all femme. I don't think I'm an open book, but as events would demonstrate, this guy figured me right from the start.
So I'm standing there at the rail and the guy is down at the other end of the deck. He's looking out at the pool, too. When I look down at him, he's staring at me. I watch him for a bit so he gets the idea I'm interested, then I look away. When I glance again, he's still staring.
After a couple of minutes he starts to walk back my way. Cool! But I'm still a bit unsure what I want to happen. As he's walking toward me his hand strays over and brushes his zipper. Okay, this is a signal, I know, but I don't know what the response should be. Should I reach down and adjust myself, too? I don't know. I just stand there. When he's a few feet away, he reaches down and gives himself a good grope. Oh, yeah!! Now I am getting really hot!
Another guy has come up on the deck, and he's standing twenty or thirty feet away from us. He sits down on a step, but it's dark, so I can't see what he's looking at, just that he's looking in our general direction. I'm kind of nervous now, so I'm definitely not going to do anything overt.
The first guy doesn't seem to want any other audience, either, so he walks over to the railing behind me where the new guy on the steps can't see him. When I look back over my shoulder at the first guy, I see that he's leaning with his back to the railing. When he sees me looking, he grabs his crotch and stands there cupping it in his hand. When I turn my head back to the pool, I see out of the corner of my eye that he's started to walk towards the steps back down into the park. When he looks back over his shoulder and sees me looking at him, he jerks his head to indicate I should follow him. He walks down the steps and out of view.
Well, I stand there for a moment, unsure what I want to do. I had hoped to talk to this guy and see what he wanted before I committed to doing anything with him, and I feel that if I follow him, I'm going to give him the impression that I'm interested. Of course, I am interested, but as yet only in an abstract way. And if I follow him, the new guy will see me and know that I'm off to have sex with some stranger. I don't know why that concerns me--after all, that's what we're all here for, right?--but the thought runs through my mind. Of course, the thought that the new guy will think I'm a slut also sort of turns me on.
Of course, I let my cock decide, and I follow him down the stairs. The guy is leaning against a short fence near some bushes. When he sees me, he gropes his crotch again, and I home in on him. I get about three feet away from him and just stand there awkwardly. He's got broad shoulders. The outline of his pecs is visible through his shirt, as is a slight tummy, all of which turns me on. He looks down at his hand stroking himself; I follow his gaze downward and watch, too.
"What're you doing way over there?" he asks, and looks at the spot beside him. I hesitate a moment and then walk over and stand near him, facing the fence. He scoots over still stroking himself, and his arm brushes mine.
"How's it going?" he asks.
"Okay," I say, and smile. He doesn't smile; instead he looks back down at his crotch.
"You like cock." I'm unsure whether it's a question or not, but there's no need for me to respond, anyway, because he reaches out and takes my hand and places it on the bulge in his shorts.
"Yeah, baby, squeeze it hard," he hisses, and I oblige, very excited by the long, thick, hard cock in my hand. It must be eight or nine inches at least.
"Squeeze it," he orders. "Yeah, that's it, baby. Squeeze that fucking cock hard!" He still has not touched me, though my own six inch, slender rod is now straining against my grey cotton boxer briefs.
He's staring into my eyes; his own eyes betray a half-smirk. I look away and remove my hand from his cock, nervous once more about what I'm getting myself into.
"You suck cock good?" he asks.
"Y-y-yeah," I stammer. "I mean, I guess--I mean, yeah." I don't know what's come over me. I'm really attracted to this guy, really hot for him, but I'm also nervous and intimidated.
"Good," he says. "You're gonna love sucking on mine."
He puts his hand on my ass, and I jump slightly.
"That feels real nice," he says and squeezes my butt. "Nice ass." He slides his hand across the nylon fabric covering my tight ass and a tiny moan escapes my throat. I look up at him again; and his self-assured leer is proprietary. His fingers slide into my crack and probe my sphincter through my shorts and underwear. He grips my buttcheek and squeezes. I'm beginning to get a bead on where this guy's interests lie.
"Oh, yeah, you like that. I am so gonna love fucking that ass."
How did he know? How did he figure out exactly what I wanted? What I needed? And his separating me from the herd was also a good idea; I mean, I wouldn't have felt him up in front of the other guy, and I sure wouldn't have let him practically finger me like he already owned my ass. Up there I would have felt constricted by a sense of some kind of decorum, but down here I was willing to let him do anything he wanted. Do I mean that? Anything?
I reach over and grab his cock again. I stroke its firm length and acknowledge the truth to myself: I will do anything to get more of it. A breeze plays over us, and I am so glad that I am here working this guy's cock while he feels up my ass.
He hooks his finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. "Hey," he says, and smiles. This is wonderful.
"Hi," I respond. "Your cock feels so great!"
"I know," he says and presses his crotch more insistently into my hand. He's still smiling as he continues to knead my ass. "Don't you wanna get better acquainted?" He drops his gaze meaningfully down to look at my small hand roughly massaging his bulge. When he looks back up, the smirk is fully there.
He leans his face into mine and tastes my lips. My lips part and his mouth covers mine. His tongue worms its way between my teeth, and I suck on it greedily. His hand is still on my ass and he snakes his muscled arm around my waist and pulls me into him. Now I'm pressed up against him, chest to chest, crotch to crotch, his tongue down my throat. He grinds his big dick into my more modest member. I wrap my arms around his neck as he continues to french me, and he spreads my legs with his thigh. I grind my cock up and down his leg and moan in pleasure. He breaks the kiss, and I open my eyes. He's staring down at me, a twinkle playing about his eyes.
"You are a horny little pup, aren't you?" he says, grinning. He pulls me to him again, and I bury my face in his chest. "What about it--you gonna be my bitch or what?" My face is between his well-toned pecs, and I am so aroused by his scent: clean, salty sweat; the faintness of soap; the musky stink of a man aroused. I quiver as he gropes at my fuckhole roughly.
"Yeah, I think this one's in heat," he growls, pulling my head over to his left armpit. He lifts his arm and cocks it behind his head. "Suck that pit, bitch! Show me what a horny slut you are!" The pheromones in his scent blast into my mind like a hit of poppers. I'm so aroused that I'm dizzy, and I cling to this man I want so badly to fuck me. I pull his shirt sleeve up so that I can get at his hairy armpit, and I slurp noisily as I suck on it.
"That's it, bitch! Clean that nasty man pit. You're my total slut, aren't you? Aren't you?" He forces my head roughly into his body as my tongue laps up his masculine odor. He pulls my head back and restrains me as I attempt to dive back into the heady aroma.
"Now about you getting better acquainted with my cock," he says and pushes down on my shoulder. A momentary clarity causes me to resist, and he growls, "No need to worry your pretty little head; nobody's gonna catch you."
I submit to the pressure and drop to my knees in the dirt and grass and face the bulge of this stranger's big cock. He pulls my face into his crotch and humps his cloth-covered, straining fucktool into my nose and cheek.
"I don't know whether you're any good at sucking dick right now," he says, "but when I get through with you, you're gonna be fucking great!"
With that he releases me and starts to tug his zipper down.
Copyright 2003 by the author.
Comments gratefully accepted: astoriafella@yahoo.com