Monday, November 28, 2011

The Park

Nashville--November, 2011

I left for Nashville soon after the Suit left the bookstore. In three hours I was there. In four hours I was moved in and sitting in one of the largest parks in the area. When I first worked in Nashville 25 years ago all of Nashville’s parks were packed with men looking for sex. Added park rangers on bikes, several stings, surveillance equipment and a newly built high school close by have changed the tenor of the place in the last few years. But the day I arrived, with temperatures in the high 60’s in mid November, the place was jumping like it was 1977.

The park I have always gone to is huge for being so near a metropolitan area. Huge as in 2684 acres of forest, trails, steep hillsides, picnic shelters and a couple of restrooms. Many of the winding roadways have been closed for cars, so runners abound. As do mule deer, raccoons, opossums, bluebirds and enough squirrels for every other tree.

My first summer there I remember lying on the hill in front of one of the Federal Works Project style picnic shelters. I still sat in the sun back then and had nothing on but a Speedo that clung to every curve of my cock. I had guessed about the park, but it was my first introduction to cruising Southern style. A silver Buick, the size of boat, came around the curve and hit the brakes. The car remained motionless for a time, then proceeded to the parking lot. Soon a man in his sixties, approximately the same size as his car and wearing little other than short shorts and flip-flops, made his way up he hill towards me. He began circling me (pausing to catch his breath on the picnic table behind me. after each time around) The circles got smaller and smaller. Each time he passed my feet I heard him say, “It sure is hot out.” I would nod and go back to my book. Soon he was close enough that I could see the tiny head of his uncut cock hanging out of those short shorts.

We did not hook up.

So many memories flooded through my brain as I drove into the park:

A three way in the back picnic table shelter one midnight in the pouring rain.
A mutual blowjob with an ebony skinned hiker, lost in the hills.
The lithe, red haired runner who let me eat his ass in the restroom, but would not let me fuck it, since I still used condoms exclusively back then.
The trail where I used to fuck guys, bent over a log.
A small clearing down by the river where countless blowjobs were given or received.
The good looking man who drove his Volvo relentlessly around the park while jerking off.
The lithe, red haired runner getting my load two years ago--as his usual fuck bud watched.

I am sitting on top of the hill, the same one I sunbathed on all those years ago. It has a direct view of the restroom where all the action happens. In no time, a car passes me and parks at the restroom. He looks up at me and goes in. I can see blond hair, jeans and sneakers, a little younger than me. I wait and count. He’s been in there too long. I go down the hill.

It’s dark inside after the bright sunshine. But he’s still there at the right hand urinal. I take the left. Even manage to piss. And get hard after all the sex the night before and this afternoon. I stroke. It’s obvious that’s what he is doing, but a small partition keeps us from seeing each other.

We wait. Eyes dead ahead. Soon enough he looks over. I turn and catch his eye. He looks away. We wait. Again. Eyes meet. I step back and show him my erect cock. He’s on his knees and I’m feeding it to him. He’s okay. Not great. Almost instantly there is the sound of a car on the gravel outside. We spring apart, and are back at the urinals, looking nonchalant, by the time a bearish looking guy ambles in. He goes to the toilet beyond us--a cinderblock stall with no door. We hear him drop his pants. The blond soon zips up and run off scared. I do an elaborate hand wash. The guy is still back there. I go to the paper towel dispenser on the far wall. It is conveniently placed so you can look directly into the stall. I’m glad I do. The bear has a remarkable beer can cock that he’s stroking obscenely. He stands, showing it off. I kneel and take it in my mouth. He shoots a thick ropy load at once. The sound of another car on gravel. We separate--he sits and I move to the sink as a young man comes in. He pisses and is gone before I can wash my hands. I dry them and hike back up the hill.

A black SUV is soon circling the winding road. He goes up the hill that is next to mine, where the remains of a companion shelter sits. I listen for him to come back down. He’s stayed up there. I hike up the taller hill. The SUV is parked to the right, with a child’s seat in the back, but no one is in the vehicle. Down the path into the woods? Or behind the roofless shelter’s fireplace? I go to the shelter first. A nice looking young dad has his dick out and is stroking. He turns away when he sees me, but he doesn’t put it away. He hears me open my jeans. He turns back to me.

“Suck me,” he says. “Please.”

With the bear’s cum still on my breath, I slip to my knees. I pry his fist off his very average cock, and slowly slide it into my mouth. He grabs my head and begins pumping it into my face. I try to slow him down, but he’s going to blow before I even get started. And he does, muffling a groan. Not a lot, but great flavor. He turns away instantly and just shoves his sticky cock back in his khaki’s. I do myself up and walk back to my car.

I have company. A true country boy. A carpenter by trade, with all his tools in the back of the once red pickup. I recognize him from previous years. He gives great head. He waves for me to join him in his cab. He’s already unzipped and hard. A thick, red uncut slab of cock is in his hand. I get in and unbutton. His hand holds my meat, giving it a few strokes. Then he reaches up to my neck and pulls me into his crotch. Well, damn…

I suck. And suck. He’s no minute man. I finally get him off by licking his balls until he’s pleading with me to swallow his seed. I do. And get my reward. Another sizable load blasts down my throat.

He thanks me. I take a long walk in the woods. I sit and read. A familiar car appears. It’s the first man. Again, he walks into the bathroom. I hike down the hill. No games this time. He gets on his knees and sucks my cock. I make him work. But he’s nervous. So I give him what he wants…

In two or three days time, it’s colder and the restrooms are closed for the winter. The men are gone, save for an occasional lone car. I still go out after work, to walk off some stress--but I‘m pretty much alone in the park with some dog walkers and all those squirrels.


  1. Breeder--H'mmmm. Now is this because:

    a) This post brings back the scene of your own misspent youth.

    b) You like to keep track of where my cock has been.

    c) It gives you comfort there is someone who makes you feel virginal again....

    I'll bet d) all of the above.

  2. I went out to the park this morning before work. So lonely, sad and cold. A solitary jogger and two bikers came by as I read my book and sipped my steaming mug of tea.

    And a squirrel.