Chapter 4: Getting my stride
Leaving my apartment and reaching the street, I had a sense of nerves rising from my stomach. I knew what I was planning to do; what I wanted to do to forget the feeling of anger and a sort of embarrassment simmering just below the surface, but as I walked I started to have second thoughts. I'd always been reserved about sexual encounters and now from somewhere I had unleashed a suppressed desire to be fucked and to suck men whose names I didn't even know.
The air was incredibly mild, so much so that I hadn't even put on a jacket. Only two nights before, the first night I had gone to the woods, the night had been frosty and cold, but now it was humid and almost warm. I'd noticed the change on Saturday morning when I went jogging in the park; the trees and shrubs were green and the grass was getting longer by the day. I didn't have the courage to go to the woods right away; especially knowing what I planned to do. Instead, I sat down at a table on the street outside a small local bar and waited for the server to come and take my order. It was just after midnight, and I reasoned I had a little time - the other two nights I hadn't gone into the woods until much later. I ordered a beer, and sat people watching - hoping I would see who was going towards the entrance of the woods at this time of night.
One beer turned into 2 beers, which turned into two whiskeys with coke, and by the time the server came to tell me he wanted to clear the tables from the street, I could feel the tipsiness in my arms and legs as I told him I was just leaving. I stood and with an ever so slight misstep headed off down the street towards the crossing and over in the direction of the woods. In the hour I had been sitting there, instead of keeping an eye on the comings and goings I had found myself on Grindr talking to the guys close by. I had thought maybe some of them were in the woods, but the one guy I dared to ask - had seemed shocked and said he doesn't go to that kind of place, before swiftly ending the conversation.
As I half-skipped, half-walked along the path leading into the woods, I realised the second whiskey had probably been too much and too quick. My head was floating and I was aware that I was grinning to myself. I did my best to compose myself as I moved deeper into the woods and further from the light of the street. Fortunately, the air was clear; no mist, and the full-moon allowed my eyes to adjust to my unfamiliar surroundings. I had already passed the clearing I knew from my previous encounters, but felt comfortable going further as I had jogged a few hundred metres around the area the previous morning. I saw a few men on the path, walking the other direction, and who stole glances as we passed each other. Most had their faces at least partially covered so it was difficult for me to be sure what they looked like.
I aimed for a small park that I had looped around while jogging, because I knew there were a few benches there; somewhere I could sit down and try to observe the lay of the land. As I entered the enclosed area, I looked around and could see at least 3 men seeming to stroll around aimlessly. I took a seat on a bench set back slightly surrounded by bushes. I could see out, but no one could sneak up behind me. I sat quietly and observed the goings on. I guess it was a form of mating dance I was observing. Men would approach silently, freeze then look one another up and down. Sometimes there was a short conversation, sometimes a hand would reach out and stoke a crotch. Successful matches were not that frequent.
Then I had a sense of someone closeby; I turned to see a North African man - probably Algerian - inching towards me sideways from about 6 feet away. I looked him up and down; in his late forties, hair thinning on top - he was almost but not quite bald - a belly hung over his trousers slightly and he was a little shorter than me. As I brought my eyes back down, I noticed his hand was rubbing his crotch, a slight swell becoming visible under his grey tracksuit bottoms. He was looking me in the face as he touched himself. This was not the type of guy I had in mind on the walk over here. I purposefully looked the other way and held my gaze that way, ignoring his presence. After what felt like an age, he walked away and I was alone again observing the scene.
From where I was sitting, I could make out silhouettes moving around the park, but none were close enough for me to see what type of guys were there. I knew that in my enclosure I was hidden slightly in the shadows, so none came over to me - I decided I had to get up and walk a circuit of the park, but as I was about to get up I caught a movement in the corner of my eye. I looked around; the Algerian guy was back. I was going to get up when I noticed the bottom half of his tracksuit was now pulled down revealing his significant manhood, hanging out in the fresh night air. His dick was FAT. I couldn't take my eyes off it. He was touching it, he just stood beside me with his very fat, but albeit short, cut cock two feet away from me at eye level. In that moment, I no longer cared that he wasn't the type I would usually go for. I had a desperate and urgent desire to swallow cum from his cock. I reached out to touch it.
"Not here; it's too open," he said and immediately started off in the direction of the path. I followed without hesitation. He led us deeper in the woods to a part I hadn't been to before. I could see from the moonlight that it was between two main paths and consisted of trees and shrubs everywhere, cut through by narrow, worn-out dirt paths. He swung around behind one of the bushes and although it was still open, he said at least no one from the main path would see us. Without exchanging any further words, I knelt down in front of him and pulled out his chode.
His dick was short, just being about a handful, but it was fat and weighty in my palm. I licked it before wrapping my lips around the head. It immediately started to swell up. I took it into my mouth and began sucking as I swayed my head back and forth. It just reached the opening of my throat, but didn't go inside, yet the fatness of it filled my mouth and stretched my lips so that my jaw began to ache slightly almost right away. I couldn't believe that this man, who I wouldn't usually look twice at, could have a cock that tasted so good and filled my mouth so perfectly.
A rustling in the bushes startled me, and I stopped sucking for a moment - ready to dart away in case it was the police or someone dangerous. The Algerian didn't seem phased, simply making a swishing sound to signal for the stranger to leave us alone. He told me to continue but I could still see a silhouette standing not far away from us - watching silently. My legs were aching a little from kneeling, so I shifted position and took the chance to take out the poppers. He waited patiently without a word while I took two long hits on the poppers and carefully put them back in my pouch. I leant forward and took the fat Arab cock into my mouth, as the poppers haze hit me and my mind floated off to its usual reverie.
"You had to suck this fat cock," the voice inside my head began ringing out, "You NEEDED to suck this fat cock. It's your DUTY to suck big cock." The fantasy of it was making me hard, and yet it was no longer a fantasy; it was my reality. I knew I was only sucking this man because he had a big, fat dick, otherwise I wouldn't haven't gone with him. Yet, because he had a big dick I felt like he deserved for it to be sucked and he deserved to have a cumdump like me pleasure him without question. I sensed that this mindset - which previously only came out in my fantasies - was slowly taking over my thinking. The pumping of his cock was still going strong and my jaw was aching as I gradually started to become aware of my surroundings again.
"I need another hit," I thought to myself, opening my eyes and drawing myself back from his cock. It was then that I saw that the silhouette had moved much closer to us and was only 2 feet away rubbing his crotch and breathing heavily. I took out the poppers and offered them to the Algerian, hoping it would make him cum; he took a hit and handed them back. I took two long hits as well, holding my breath - longing to glide away again and finish off the job. I took the man in my mouth. The alcohol and poppers helped me completely overcome my shyness, and instead of being embarrassed that the third man was watching me. I wanted him to see that I was a cocksucker. Even more than that, I wanted him to see me swallow this man's cumload. I didn't have to wait long.
"URGHHHHH," the Algerian grunted, making a noise for the first time since I'd started sucking. I felt him jerk back and forth uncontrollably shooting wad after wad of his this semen into my mouth. For the first time, since becoming a cocksucker in this park, I could savour the taste of his sperm in my mouth - and it tasted thick and sweet. I washed it around my mouth, feeling the stranger's eyes watch with anticipation. When he pulled his cock out I made a very loud and deliberate gesture to show that I had swallowed every drop. Then I reached forward and licked the last drip off the Algerian's cock head. He thanked me and stepped back, putting his junk back into his trousers.
I stayed kneeling down but leant backwards slightly to rest my back on the trunk of a tree behind me. I looked up at the stranger to see what would happen next. He was younger and better looking, a typical Parisian guy in his 30s. He had his cock out ready and put his hand behind my head to guide my mouth onto his bell-end. I took the whole length of his uncut cock into my mouth. It was around 7 inches and a good size. Quickly, his throbbing gland was pushing on the back of my throat and I wanted to deepthroat him, to feel his cock head inside my throat. I withdrew and took a hit on the poppers. This time his cock head passed the back of my throat and down into my oesophagus. I held him there for a moment as he moaned loudly, obviously appreciating the feeling of my throat muscles squeezing around his bell-end.
Almost immediately, I could feel his balls tense up on my chin. He brought his second hand round to the back of my head and held himself deep inside me as squirt after squirt of his watery cum shot into my mouth. He pulled out and rubbed his cummy cock over my lips and around my cheeks. My face was covered in his spunk. He asked if I had a tissue, which I swiftly handed him and he thanked me, wiping himself down and walking away. I stood up and tried to get my balance back. My legs ached and I was dizzy from the poppers. The French guy's cum was drying on my lips. "Damn," I thought to myself, I didn't bring any water. I wiped my sleeve across my mouth and gradually started to feel normal again.
