Rankett Park

Freddy left his house at 2am on a misty December morning. He crept down the stairs quietly, and slid out of the door, closing it softly behind him so as not to wake his parents and siblings. Once he reached the footpath, he zipped up his parka and walked with purpose eastwards, past rows of terraced houses and towards Rankett Park, which sat between the suburbs and the city centre. The inspiration for his covert excursion was a conversation he’d overheard between his father and uncle. His uncle had warned his father not to go near the public toilets in Rankett Park, because he’d stopped there late one night last week and “some queer” had tried to kiss him. He’d mentioned it to a buddy of his, and been informed that this was where all the “fags” went to “get off” with each other. 

Freddy, who had turned 18 earlier in the year and had just left Sixth Form, had known he too was “some queer” for a few years now. Of course, he’d told no-one. You didn’t if you wanted to keep a roof over your head. It was 1979, and you heard the occasional rumour of out and proud gays but it was unheard of in the shady suburbs, and if his parents had found out they’d have hit the roof. The closest he’d come to sex was a fumble with a girl called Sarah in his fourth year at school - all the confirmation he needed that he was, as the other kids put it ‘bent’ - and two magazines that he kept inside an atlas at the bottom of his wardrobe under bags of old clothes. 

Freddy thought about the mags as he walked. One of them was quite softcore - a magazine called Unzipped, a 1978 edition. It had a picture of a moustachioed man in white briefs and a builders hat on the front. Similar, quite average looking men were scattered throughout. His favourite picture in the magazine depicted a muscular blonde guy in his late twenties with his shirt off and his jeans around his ankles so that you could see his bum. For weeks following his acquisition of this magazine, Freddy had pulled himself off to this image with one eye on his bedroom door. The other magazine was one which Freddy had found one day in an old skip outside the village hall just a few months ago. He had thought himself the luckiest lad in England that day. This one was more hardcore, and Freddy had looked at it nearly every night since he’d found it. His favourite in this one was the centre-fold image, which was of a young dark haired man, who was skinny but toned who, Freddy had delighted to see, was bent over, with another man, in his thirties with a moustache, actually bumming him. Freddy’s eyes had popped when he first saw it - a picture of a man with his actual dick up some actual pretty boy’s actual arse. He’s heard about this, but he’d never seen it! Noticing the tent he was pitching in his trousers, Freddy forced himself to stop thinking of the magazines. 

Soon, he reached the park, and he approached the small toilet block nervously. The park was dimly lit, so he half ran across to the safety of the yellow light above the sign which read “GENTLEMEN”. He gulped, and slipped through the door. Inside was dimly lit too. Noticing how empty it was, Freddy was about to leave, when another person entered. He was a little older than Freddy, maybe around 24. He wore a red  jacket and skin tight blue jeans. He had light brown hair as far as Freddy could see through the dim and he had a well kept moustache to match.

Freddy crossed the room to the urinal to avoid suspicion - this might be an ordinary member of the public after all. Try as he might, Freddy could not summon piss, so he just stood at the urinal with his dick in his hand, hoping that he looked like he was pissing. Just as he was about to stop and go and wash his hands, the other guy came and stood next to him. He stood much closer than one ordinarily would to a fellow urinal-user. Freddy was shaking slightly with nervousness now. He heard the clinking of a belt buckle and glanced across to see that the other guy was stood much the same as Freddy, with his dick in his hand. 

Seeing this, Freddy felt his length hardening in his hand. Quite suddenly he found himself stood there with a full on hard-on. Even more suddenly, Freddy felt another hand on his dick. The other lad started stroking up and down, slowly moving his foreskin back and forth over the pink head. Freddy moved to reciprocate, but his hand was softly batted away. "Don't worry about that" said the lad. He let go of Freddy's dick and backed into one of the cubicles. Freddy instinctively followed him, wanting his hand back as soon as possible. 

"I'm Gary" said the lad quietly, as he continued pulling Freddy off. "Freddy" said Freddy quickly. "This your first time in here?” asked Gary. "Umm... yeah" Freddy replied nervously, thinking Gary might stop. Instead, he knelt down, and pulled Freddy's trousers down with him. He then licked the tip of Freddy's dick, and looked up at him. Seeing the contented look on his face, he opened his mouth and moved his whole head over Freddy's eager teenage prick. Freddy was amazed when Gary's nose touched his thick brown pubic hair. He could feel Gary's tongue on his dick, and he could feel it bend slightly as it protruded right into his throat. It was a new, strange feeling, but he liked it. 

After a minute or so of Gary's head bobbing up and down over Freddy's crotch, he stood up and kissed him softly. Freddy tasted salt on his lips, which made his cock even harder if that was possible. "Do you want to fuck me?" said Gary suddenly. "What?" Said Freddy, shocked at how forward this was. He didn't know what he'd expected but it wasn't this for some reason. He hadn't ever really imagined that men liked being fucked. He didn't particularly think he'd like it himself. 

Gary pulled down his jeans and then his white briefs, turning around to show Freddy his arse. It was firm, rounded, and the cheeks were almost hairless. Brown hair lined the crack, much like Freddy's own arse. Gary then took a small bottle out of his pocket, poured it into his hand and rubbed it into his arse. He handed Freddy the bottle, and when he stood there looking confused, he said "put some on your willy”. Freddy eagerly obliged as Gary bent over, exposing his arse hole. 

Freddy couldn't believe this was about to happen. He was more turned on than he ever had been before - his dick was harder than ever, curving slightly upwards towards the tiled ceiling. He placed his dick on the soft pink opening between Gary's cheeks, which he was pulling apart eagerly. “Go on then” said Gary over his shoulder, smiling encouragingly. Freddy pushed gently, and his dick just bent a little at the end. Self conscious, he pushed a little harder, and the tip slipped in. It was so much tighter than he’d ever imagined. Soon enough, he’d managed to push his entire six inches into Gary’s hole. Gary sighed slightly impatiently as Freddy just stood there, looking down. He couldn’t quite believe that he had his penis inside another bloke. He savoured the feeling of his hairy balls against Gary’s soft but firm arse, the tight, wet sensation around his length, and the sight of his dark pubic hair against soft white skin. 

Suddenly, nature flicked a switch in Freddy’s brain. He put his hands on Gary’s hips and gyrated his own, sliding his dick out, then back in, slowly at first. The man in front of him responded, pushing his hips back in time with Freddy pushing his forward. It felt like nothing he’d ever felt before. Soon he picked up pace, his animalistic need taking over. He didn’t know where he liked looking best. There was Gary’s face, flushed and contorted, his hair in disarray, or there was his lean, toned back and arms, or Freddy could simply look down and watch his shaft move in and out of the moist pink between his supple cheeks. 

Before Freddy knew it, he had pushed Gary into a standing position against the wall, and was fucking him, hard, with short but frequent thrusts. There were no complaints from Gary, whose moans became louder and higher, his legs opening wider so that Freddy was thrusting upwards. 

Before he could say or do anything, Freddy felt a wave of pleasure wash over him, emanating from his balls, down his legs and up his back. He pushed deeper than ever, and ejaculated more forcefully than he ever had before. He could feel his cock-head swelling, and his semen pulsing into Gary’s guts. There was so much that it babbled out of Gary’s red-raw hole, collecting in Freddy’s pubic hair. As he withdrew, the remainder ran into Gary’s crack and down his legs, a mental image which ensured that Freddy wouldn’t need his magazines for the rest of the week at least. 

Freddy grabbed some toilet paper and cleaned up his dick as best he could. Gary just pulled up his white briefs, then his jeans. He turned and kissed Freddy softly on the mouth, and then departed, leaving him stood in the dank cubicle with his trousers around his ankles, his dick still quite hard. After a moment, he pulled his own trousers up, feeling his underwear press against his pubic hair, which was matted and damp with oil and semen. 

Freddy thought about Gary all the way home. He knew one thing, he’d be visiting Rankett Park public toilets again soon.