It was a weekday afternoon, not the best time to go looking for men in ManPark but not unheard of. Besides, I was horny and it was a warm summer day.
Arriving there I passed a jogger, decent looking, about my age, in full regalia, the loose nylon shorts and matching two-tone tank top. I didn't figure him to be cruising, just using the park for its more acceptable purpose. (It wasn't the troll I sometimes see there that I've named The Jogger, a pig-faced man whose presence is usually enough to chase me - and anyone else cruising - away.) A few cars were parked on the winding road that led to the top of the hill. Most had no one inside, a good sign. The back path might have a few people lurking about hungry for my soon-to-be-stiffer cock or wanting my lips on their already-hard one.
In daylight ManPark is almost a completely different place than after dark. My favorite tree is an awkward place to stand and wait during the day but at night can host a crowd of sucking, thrusting, grabbing, groping men. Below the main path is a narrow path on the side of a drop off that is welcoming by day but dangerous at night.
Between the two paths is a place I call The Grove where one can see both upper and lower paths - and the men on them. Cruisers know where to look to see if someone is waiting there whereas casual visitors take it in as just part of the scenery. One particular tree in The Grove grows at enough of an angle that one can lean back on it and be comfortably relaxed (or comfortably blown). It's where I stationed myself.
Uzippingmy pants, I absently got myself semi-hard. I was daydreaming enough that I didn't notice the jogger I'd seen earlier on the upper path. He was no longer jogging but also wasn't walking slowly enough to indicate that he was cruising. At the path that leads to The Grove, without noticeably having checked if someone (me!) was waiting there, he made his way to the enclosed area of trees.
Unprepared for such a sudden visitor I didn't have time to put myself "back together" but wasn't anxious for him to see that I had my privates out in fresh air either. He barely noticed me standing there and continued on to the lower path until I could see only the top of his head. He seemed to stop there.
I started to sense he actually might be cruising and my curiosity, like my dick already was, was aroused. Waiting a minute or two, I was about to edge down the path to see more what he was doing when he suddenly began moving up the path and toward The Balcony. The Balcony is a great place for daytime trysts, just off the lower path and on the edge of the drop-off, well surrounded by trees and completely out of sight from the main path. I'll have to tell a couple Balcony stories later.
He was already past The Balcony by the time I got to where he had stopped and I wondered if, at the end of the lower path, he had taken a left and returned to the main path or if he'd continued on to the dead end part of the trail that led to the Back Room. Not quite to the end of the dead end was a place where long ago a large tree had tipped and uprooted, leaving a sort of hollowed out "room" that could be entered from either side. It is another preferred spot for daytime derring-do.
Looking up toward the main path from the intersection, I could not see him so decided he must have headed down the dead end path. This could only mean one thing, he WAS cruising and I was in the mood. The dead end part of the path has a few turns in it which prevent seeing too far ahead.
As I made the last turn before the Back Room I was surprised to see more than just my jogger. He was wearing only his shoes and his jogging shirt and had a hard on pointing straight in my direction. He'd had the hard on, not from expecting me, but because he had stripped off his shorts earlier when he'd stopped and had taken the last part of his jog nearly nude in daylight.
Seeing my approach didn't surprise nor scare him so I took the next six uphill strides toward him which put his stiff pointer at perfect level - my face! I leaned forward and opened wide. With my nose in his pubic hair, he removed his shirt and I pulled back enough to take in the view. His chest had dark hair, not very thick but not sparse either. It spread from the center of his chest and "didn't make it to the edges."
I may have said a word or two but more likely made a head motion indicating that the Back Room was only a couple steps behind him and that we'd be more hidden there. I didn't think that being hidden wasn't part of his excitement but he complied and I was soon on my knees, my mouth again on his tasty pole. His balls lightly bounced against my chin as I sucked him and unzipped my pants at the same time.
I had stroked my own cock only two or three times when he suddenly came in my mouth, the warm, sweet splash painting the roof of my mouth. I leaned back to savor the moment and continue jacking off but he was in fast-forward motion. He walked from the Back Room at the same time he was putting back on his jogging outfit, efficiently putting on his shorts while also taking long strides to be gone from the area, timing the pulling on of his shirt perfectly with the ridge that put him again in full view of the main path. All that in the time it took me to maybe stroke myself once or twice more.
I didn't really want to jack off so I wandered back to the lower path and to The Balcony. A couple young guys came by, probably not even twenty, not usually my type but I had unfinished business. One of them was especially handsome, a sort of football player (quarterback, not a blocker) look to him. I saw him head back toward the Back Room and followed but when I got there I saw what had drawn him to the spot. Two of the other young guys were already making use of the "room." He was welcome to join them but he gave me a stare meant to ward me off. I complied.
An hour later another young guy, but slightly older than the others and dressed in blue, noticed me on The Balcony but continued past me. I returned to the now-vacant Back Room and the boy in blue found his way there. I noticed he had a nose ring which was small but thick. So was his cock which he readily thrust into my waiting face. He must have mistaken the hours-old desire in my eyes for something else because he asked, "You're pretty high, aren't you?"
"Not too much," I said between mouthfuls. My hands found a soft, hairy padding on his chest as they moved up under his shirt. He fucked my face mechanically but deeply. I pinched his nipples which had rings to match the one in his nose. He liked it. I stood to rub my face into his downy chest and he jacked me off, hours of waiting jizz covering his hand.
As I leaned back to catch my breath and was about to finish the job my mouth had started earlier, another man came into view from the main path. My nose-ringed rescuer pulled away from my mouth, waiting for the newcomer, about whom I said, "Maybe I shoulda waited too?" Blue Boy grinned and I departed, winking at the newcomer as we passed each other.
Yes, I'd have done well by waiting since the newcomer looked like he'd stepped from the pages of an underwear catalogue. But too there'd always be the next day.