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This is a true story. Enjoy!
As soon as the lad had entered the treeline, I had expected there to be a kerfuffle from the surrounding bushes as the men engaged with each other scrambled to zip up their pants and compete with each other to reach the toilet facilities down the forest path -- where this young man was evidently heading- first. But there was no rustling in the undergrowth.
Holy crap! I was on my own here. No competition then! I had just wandered off my usual route to the park cruising ground this Sunday evening, so I didn't know what the score was. Sometimes it was full of guys humping in the trees. Sometimes it was empty. This was one of those times. It was empty apart from me and this ripping young stud who now made his way towards the jaxx. I followed.
There was something familiar about him. At first I worried that he was one of my students at college. I'm a 46 year old college professor. Bald, with glasses, but decent enough bod. Big cock. And I like to dress well. Good suits seem to get attention here. When you're slumming it in the dive bars downtown or the docklands a bit of class can impress. But park cruising isn't the kindest on the laundry bill. Today I'm just casual; black polo shirt, jeans and leather jacket.
The young dude is about 20. He's tall, lean, dark haired with stubble. Slightly latin looking maybe. Cute as fuck. He's gone in to a cubicle. Now for some action.
I enter and head over to the washbasin. Through the mirror I clock which cubicle the lad is in. I see his jeans down around his muddy boots. The door is ajar. Here we go.
I slowly walk past the door, then turn and look in the narrow opening. The lad is in there, bare-arsed facing the closed toilet seat. His ass is magnificent. Tanned, taut, alluringly furry. I begin to undo my belt buckle and unbutton my slacks. I move for the door and slowly widen it.
"Alright mate" I whisper. He turns
He's beautiful. A rugged face, heavily stubbled, but still youthfully fresh. Yes, he's definitely got some Spanish heritage. Beautiful dark brown eyes, like a puppy dog gaze back at me. Without speaking, he turns and flashes one MF of a semi-hard cock at me. I grin in anticipation and begin to enter fully. But he raises a hand to stop me. What's up?
"you want it, you gotta give" he whispers in a deliciously sultry voice.
Fuck. To good to be completely true. Should've known. Ah, the passing of years weighs heavy on your wallet when you're looking for top tier action with the young talent these days. But I'm not about to give in yet.
Still holding his eyes in mine and with a wry smile I begin to back out.
"wait dude" he whispers "im cool. There's no-one around today. I've been horny as fuck all afternoon. Cmon in.
My smile broadens. I squeeze in and close the door.
My lad offers his now fully hard meat to me. Getting on my hunkers, I take it all in my mouth. God. It tastes so good. Salty fresh young dick. The scent of this hot jocks meaty package in my nostrils as I begin to work his tool with the care of a long time pro.
"Yeh dude" he sighs as I pump away. I slip my right hand up under his warm hairy ballsack and reach his hot damp crack. With my left I let my jeans and jocks slip, revealing my own raging schlong, already with the faintest first hints of pre-cum.
He turns and straddles the toilet seat, presenting me with that sizzlingly gorgeous set of young butt cheeks. I dive in with my tongue. The lads hole is sweltering in his musky jock juice. He purrs in pleasure as I plunge the savoury chasm. This is pure joy. I wonder how far I can go and how long will I last.
Suddenly, a noise. A step. Someone else has entered the pleasure arena. We freeze. The door is shut so we're safe enough incase it's some poor hetero wandering into the panthers lair. The cubicle door beside ours opens and closes. Whoever's in there isn't there to relieve themselves. He remains standing. Heavy breathing lets us know it's one of us. We continue our engagement. Audibly. I unlatch the door. Our new friend comes around.
As he teases open the door, we both look around. It's Martin the pilot! Hey!
Tom is my age. A veteran cruiser too. I've known him for years. He's alright. I remember him when we met first. He was the spit of Tom Cruise back then. Hes still okay looking. Receding hairline, a bit flabby. But he's a nice guy.
Nice cock too. Hes got it on display now. My lad seems pleased enough with him. But we gotta go somewhere better than this cubicle. We agree. I know a good place. A little thicket deep in the trees. Totally safe and out of view. We zip up and head out.
When we get there I'm on edge. I fling down my jocks and get my cock out. Martin does too. The lad teases us with an ass strip. He's having fun. He slowly grinds his backside in our direction, letting slip ever so slowly his pants.
Me and Martin get on our knees, side by side. Who will he grace first with his favour? We steadily work our tools in anticipation. I let one arm caress Martin's arse, teasing his manhole with my fingers. Martin is still an attractive guy. Nothing like this ripping young jock before us of course. But back in the day, it would have been an even contest between them. Martin in turn, gently cups my ballsack and kneads it. I know he never really fancied me, but we've done it on many occasions. He's always up for some fun.
The lad eases his fine tanned and pert ass towards Martin's waiting tongue. Lucky guy. The lad firmly squats as Martin goes to work on that tasty hole.
I shuffle on my knees around the front to take the lad's schlong. My tongue bathes his shaft and sack before I get my lips around the savoury bulb of his head. Bliss!
Occasionally as we're busily engaged, me and Martin trade knowing glances between the lads muscular, well haired legs. We're aware of our luck. A young jock this fit, this fine and this willing is rare for a Sunday evenings cruise. Certainly rare when we have him all to ourselves.
We relish his taste. He moans his appreciation. He directs me with his strong young arms to turn around. I obey, and get on all fours, offering my 46 year old college professor's ass to him. He slaps it. I groan in gratitude. He's the master now. I work between my legs as this fit latin youth towers over me from behind, my old pal Martin gorging himself on that sweet lad-ass and hole.
The lad straddles me, exploring my hole with two fingers of one hand while with the other delivering blissfully stinging slaps to my quivering cheeks. That's right boy. You teach this old professor and his filthy old mate that out of the world beyond the trees, in this domain, the young and the fit rule the old.
We work away in increasing intensity, moaning, grunting ever more unrestrainedly. At last
Oh fuck man! I shoot my load on the damp leaves. I hear Martin similarly gasping in ecstasy behind. Then the our young jock dispenses his hot rain over my mature twitching ass. We sigh in unison.
This Sunday has been creamy.