I have always had an inquisitive nature and I suppose that was my downfall. That and the fact that sex in all of its manifestations fascinates me. It wasn't just that I liked it (though I do, very much) I was always wondering 'What would that be like?' in all kinds of situations, many of which I did not want to experience but would very interested to watch. I confess to spending time reading the offers and exploits on the walls of the public loos, though I take a lot of it with a pinch of salt.

I suppose it was inevitable one evening when Jill was at work (she is a nurse in the kid's hospital), I noticed a guy at the urinals. He seemed to be interested in me. I glanced in his direction and he nodded. I hurriedly stared at the stream coming from my bladder, but after a few seconds couldn't resist a sideways glance. He had a real hard on. He was caressing it tenderly and I soon found myself concentrating on the proceedings. He moved over to stand next to me. I suddenly realised that I was also flagging up an interest in the time honoured way. I was stunned when he reached over and folded his hand around my erection. I must have reacted sharply. He muttered an apology, zipped up and left. My mind was reeling. I wasn't gay but I supposed it could be fun. I relived the moment that he touched me...and realised it was a very exciting sensation.

I left the conveniences and walked around the park. I ended up back near the loos. In front of me were a couple of those wooden seats. One was occupied. I was almost alongside before I realised it was him. Our eyes met. He smiled, but apologetically. I felt I should reassure him; I wasn't outraged or even offended. I returned the gesture. He really had no cause to worry. Looking back, it wasn't really surprising that he misinterpreted my motive. 'Hi' he said, 'Fancy some company?' I hesitated. Half of me wanted to run and half of me wanted to find out more. Well, the latter 'half' must have been more than a half because I sat down on the seat beside him.

'You often come here?' What a corny line!

'No' I replied. 'Well, I often walk through the park but I don't often...' I stopped and thought 'Hell, where is this conversation going?'

'You're new to this aren't you?' he asked, quietly, almost sympathetically. 'I've not been doing it for long, either. I just like meeting other guys sometimes.'

That was it, really. I longed to bombard him with questions and explore his desires and practices. We began a tennis conversation; where each gives one small piece of information, then the other.

Our situations were very similar: both young professionals and both with too much time on our hands. He was married, I had a permanent girl friend.

Somehow, we ended up in a pub and had a few drinks. It seemed easier to talk then. I admitted my interest but also my utter virginity in the realms of anything gay. He told me he was trying it out but had very few encounters to date. So far they didn't seem to be too appetising and I rather think he had showed his inexperience by his clumsy forwardness at the urinals. However, we agreed that this side of life should be explored without prejudice. Neither of us actually discussed what we would like to do together, but we exchanged telephone numbers and said we should meet again and 'maybe try something out together.'

It was about a week later that he phoned. Jill was at work. It took me a while to realise who it was. Finally he said 'Come on Pete, we met on that park bench' and the penny dropped. He wondered if I would like to spend an hour with him. He had the keys to a sports pavilion where he was a member and he could show me around.

The drive there was really embarrassing. Neither of us knew what to say or what to expect, but we both already thought enough about each other to make us believe that it would be an encounter to remember.

We arrived at a small, rather run down tennis court with a little wooden chalet. He locked the door behind us and we were in a kind of parlour with soft seats and a settee. 'Won't anyone come?' I asked a bit anxiously.

'No, I often come down here in the evenings and do a bit of work. No-one ever comes out here. Most of the members are pretty elderly anyway.'

There was another awkward silence. 'I don't know what to do', I said self-consciously.

'Well I'm not an expert. Let's see what happens.' He put his arms around my waist and began stroking my back. I closed my eyes. His hands traced out the lines of my buns and I shivered with pleasure. I felt I should be doing something to respond, but I didn't know what, so I let him proceed. I was getting more and more excited. Greedy lust was taking hold of me.

He began to move round to my hips, then thighs. I felt almost faint with pleasure. Then he tenderly grasped my erection. That was it. I blew! 'I'm sorry', I gasped, even as I was pumping spunk into my briefs, 'I couldn't wait.'

He laughed. 'That's OK. We have to learn as we go, don't we? I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunities in the future.'

My immediate reaction was to get away as soon as I could. We said absolutely nothing on the journey back to town apart from a quick 'Bye then' at my car. It was only during the next couple of days that I began to relive the experience, take it into new dimensions and begin to want to see him again.

Once again it was he who broke the silence. 'Hi Pete, Mike here. Fancy a bit of a drive? It's a lovely evening and I thought of a walk round Brandscome Woods. You up for it?' I was, of course.

It's a large area of woodland, with hundreds of little paths, dells and secluded nooks. It's known as a lovers' paradise, which says it all.

Mike pulled a blanket out of his daybag and lay it on the ground in the shelter of some ferns. This was a perfect spot. We sat down and looked around self consciously. After a while I lay back in the sun and relaxed. But not for long! He took that as a signal that I was available. He propped himself up on one elbow and began stroking my stomach. He teased and then undid the buttons on my shirt. He traced the hair around my navel and fiddle with my belt buckle. In a show of surprising courtesy, he asked, 'May I?'

Generously I told him that he was welcome. And I truly meant it. I was just longing to feel his hands on my cock again, but this time without the nuisance of clothing in the way. I was pretty sure I wouldn't disgrace myself like the last time. I could hold out at least a little longer.

I was soon to find out. He was lowering my zip - this time without asking permission.

A minor pang of guilt burst on my consciousness; yet again he was doing all the work and I was getting all the pleasure. I started to unbutton his shirt as I felt his fingers pressing under the waistband of my briefs. Nearly swooning with pleasure, trembling like a nudist at Christmastime, I threw his shirt off his shoulders. This was the first time I had seen his torso. He was really nicely proportioned and quite hairy. I liked what I saw.

Meanwhile, his fingertips were buried in my hair, probing the base of my erection. I just lay back and surrendered. He slid his hand inside so that he could enfold my tower. I gasped. With his free hand he pushed down my clothing so that I was exposed. He fondled me, tentatively, his other hand now cupping and squeezing my balls. The thought was pounding through my brain that I had capitulated. This was the palace - the citadel. Here my commanding officer had his base. When this was in enemy hands the battle was lost. But these weren't enemy hands. I had gladly - urgently sold myself into slavery. I wouldn't stop my conqueror doing whatever he chose.

The conqueror put his lips to the tip of my penis. He kissed and licked. Great surges of emotion were washing through my body. This was the deepest plunge I had ever taken into the pool of physical ecstasy. And I was being drawn ever deeper. Now he had my bell between his lips. He massaged it with lips and tongue. His hands continued to hold and fondle my entire equipment. This activity would have a short life expectation!

The same thought obviously occurred to Mike as he released me and again propped up on one arm, put his face close to mine, his free hand running through the hair on my head. 'Is this OK?' He seemed anxious that he was pleasing me.

In reply I just groaned. 'Do whatever you like, it's bloody marvellous.' I managed at last.

'Let's get stripped'. I wondered if it was a safe enough place.

'Yeh, anyone coming disturbs the birds. You hear them fly up. They're like an early warning system.'

So we stripped. I felt strangely self conscious. Despite what Mike had been doing to me, totally nudity was still a bit of an embarrassment. He stretched himself on top of me and we enjoyed the intimacy of warm, naked flesh. He started kissing me; on the forehead first, then cheeks, then brushed my lips. Our mouths were firmly closed, but he kept on kissing. He paused enough to murmur 'Would you like me to fuck you?' and came straight back onto my lips before I could answer. When he did finally give me the opportunity to speak I told him, 'No, sorry, it was tried once and I couldn't take it. It hurt like hell.'

He paused, looked hard at me, but didn't ask the obvious question.

The answer, if he had wanted it went back to my life as a teenager in the village. I was about thirteen.

To be continued....


Jon Benedict

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