Down in the Par

Just a quick hook up tale that I hope you find interesting.

All the characters are over 18.

As usual I want to thank LarryInSeattle for his editing assistance.

Helpful comments are always appreciated.

Enjoy.

*****

I stood at the urinal, pretending to take a leak, for a minute or so. Anyone paying attention would have realized I wasn't actually pissing. The tell tale hissing ring of piss on porcelain was missing. In my experience, people who are there to take a leak isolate themselves. They don't want to know what is going on around them. The only people who pay attention to shit like that or people, like me, who weren't there because they needed to piss.

I stepped back, pretended to shake off and displayed my half-hard cock. I wasn't worried the other dude might be a cop. He'd been there twenty minutes earlier when I first ducked in, when I really did need to take a piss. Even though I needed to piss, I still paid attention. He hadn't been taking a leak. He just stood there, casting sidelong glances without moving his head. I pissed and then did my circuit of the lake. I've learned it's a bad idea to just go someplace to cruise. Go for a reason: a walk, find a new book, whatever, once that's done if opportunity arises, fine. You're less desperate if the primary reason your there is not to cruise. When you let yourself get desperate, that's when you fuck up.

I wasn't particularly horny that day. Like most guys, I'm always a little horny but it wasn't one of those days where all you can think about is getting off. I enjoyed my run. The weather wasn't too bad, a little hot for my taste and way too humid but not bad. It was mid-afternoon on a weekday. There weren't a lot of people out. As I approached the parking lot, I debated whether or not to check out the bathroom or just head home. I had the rest of the day to myself. I could shower, put on some porn, pick out a couple of toys, and make an afternoon of it. I shrugged, literally. I remember standing by my car, shrugging and then heading toward the bathroom.

He was still there, standing at the same urinal, still not pissing. He was bolder that time. He turned enough for me to see he was already sporting wood. I stepped back and gave him that little flash. I was fairly sure he'd follow me. I shrugged, mentally that time, and decided I didn't really care. If I got to my car and he wasn't following, I'd go home. If he were following, I'd stay. Either way it was not that big a deal.

He followed and I walked past my car. He was an okay looking guy. I guessed he was a few years older than me. He was a few pounds heavier, but not a tubster. I already knew he had a nice dick. I'd only gotten a glimpse but it looked like a nice seven incher. I couldn't see if it was cut or not. I hoped not. I prefer uncut dick. Don't get me wrong. I don't like a cheesy dick but a clean cock with all its parts is hot.

Don't get me wrong about something else. I wasn't lurking in that john. I don't lurk. I despise faggots that hang around in public johns making everybody afraid they can't let their kid go in without a police escort. I went in the first time to take a leak. The second time I was in there less than a minute, just long enough to see if the dude was still there and confirm he was someone I'd not mind a casual get together with. I wasn't ready to invite him home but he was definitely okay for an afternoon fling.

I don't sit in the stall, or hang out at a urinal all day, bothering people. I check it out and if there is clearly someone interested in playing, great. If not, fine. And, this is important, I don't play around in the john. I go some place for a little privacy, not for me but the public. If there are other fags around who want to watch, well fuck, the more the merrier but I don't fuck around in a place where people who don't want to participate have to deal with it.

I wasn't worried he was a cop, not at all. That wasn't my first trip around the block. He was alone. I had checked out the picnic tables and parking lot. There were no out of place, sun-glassed dudes, or gals, pretending to read while continually glancing at the bathroom. There were no cars or vans with "snoozing" occupants. He was alone. I'd never seen a cop work alone, not a real one. Mall security sometimes, but they just tell you to get the fuck out. They aren't worried about someone going ape shit because they're being arrested. What's more, he had made the first move. He showed me his cock when he recognized I had already been in there once.

Besides, if he was a cop and was going to bust me, he'd have done it as soon as I showed him my crank.

About a quarter of a mile from the parking lot there's a low broad gully where a sometimes stream flows into the lake. You know where it is. This late in the summer it's dry unless we've had rain, which we haven't. It's covered in stunted cottonwoods and tall shrubs or short trees, beats the fuck out of me what the difference is. Anyone with anything on the ball looks at that place, or any place like it, in any park anywhere in the country, maybe the world, and says "that's were the faggots hang out".

There were plenty of little nooks and crannies that sheltered you from the path. It wasn't a place to get fucked. It was either too muddy or too weedy or both but it was fine for getting a little quick noggin, or giving a little noggin.

He didn't hesitate. He followed me right in, like he'd been there before. Like I said it was the middle of the afternoon. The business dudes who stopped by for a little lunch break quickie were gone. As far as I could tell we had the place to ourselves.

I stepped into the cleft between two tall bushes, making sure there wasn't any poison ivy or poison oak, turned and pulled my dick out and started working it. I was wearing running shorts so all I had to do was push the top down and fish it out.

My new buddy had a little harder time. He was wearing jeans. He was a little too heavy for button fly jeans. He unzipped, dug around for a minute and pulled out his cock. My first glance had not led me astray. He could use a little exercise and maybe skip Burger King once in awhile, but he had a porn star cock. It was a beautiful, truly beautiful, piece of meat.

I immediately started to bend over. I hadn't been all that horny but the sight of his cock revved my engine, no point in denying that. I was hungry for that dick. He shook his head and put one hand on my chest. I was surprised when he knelt down. He was wearing jeans, true, but the dirt and weeds are hell on the knees of your pants. I, most of us, preferred to squat or bend to suck a guy off.

Check his jeans, you'll see. The knees will have grass stains and ground in reddish black clay. Check.

Whether I would have knelt in this place or not, he knew what to do. He pushed his left hand inside my shorts, cupped my balls and began to squeeze. He didn't start grabbing and twisting like he was juicing an orange. He started slowly, working up the intensity, paying attention to how I responded. He was good, damn good, and I speak as someone who prides himself on his ability to suck a cock.

He didn't shove my cock straight into his mouth, either. He wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the base and kissed his way down the shaft. He stopped and rested his cheek and nose in my pubes. I could hear him inhale. He was my kind of cocksucker. Sucking a cock, if you're interested, is a multi-sensory experience. It's the smell of a man, the taste of a man, and the feel of a man's hard cock in your hand, in your mouth, on your tongue. It's an experience to be savored. Popping your mouth over a cock, giving it a couple of jerks and swallowing the dude's load is passé. It's like gulping a really nice wine or bourbon.

He licked his way back up my shaft, wrapping his wet hot tongue under my cock. When he got to the crown, he twirled his tongue around the ridge. Alas, my parents had my poor little wee-wee whacked as an infant, there was no foreskin for him to play with. He did his best.

Finally, he swallowed the head of my cock. He stopped there, teasing me with his mouth. He tightened his lips and popped the crown out, He tongued the slit and pulled his head back, eyes on mine, making sure I saw the glittering line of precum that stretched from his tongue back to my cock. Then he swallowed it again.

With no warning, he deep-throated me. It was one smooth quick movement of his head. My cock isn't as big as his but it's not tiny and he took it in one fell swoop. He held it deep in his throat and then pulled back, shaking his head softly from side to side. Fucking hell, that felt amazing. He shoved me back into his throat and this time pulled back with his tongue pressed to the underside of my shaft. I could almost feel him forcing the precum out of my cock and into his mouth.

He did that over and over again. I could feel myself getting ready to cum. I didn't want to cum yet. He was that fucking good. Unbelievable. I tried to pull out, catch my breath, suck him for a while, anything to prolong things. I know my body pretty well but I misjudged. As I pulled out, I started to cum. He gobbled my cock back up in a flash and took every drop, or almost every drop.

He played with my cock with his mouth as I slowly descended from one of the best orgasms I'd had in some time. When I was mostly soft, he stood. I told him that was fucking incredible and meant it. He hadn't been playing with his cock while he sucked me, another mark of a gentleman but he was hard. The head of his cock was shiny and a giant drop of precum beckoned me. I tucked myself back into my shorts and squatted down on my haunches in front of him.

I resisted the urge to simply attack his cock; it was that tempting. The bit of a paunch he carried above his cock had become irrelevant. This man was hot. His mouth was hot. His hands were hot and his cock was whatever lies beyond hot.

I drew in a slow breath and told myself to relax, savor the moment. I did my best.

As much as I enjoyed how he'd sucked me off I have my own style. I wished that he'd unfasten and lower his pants, but he didn't. After I swallowed my disappointment, I swallowed his cock. I like to make it wet first. I held him deep in my mouth. Maybe he'd never been lucky enough to find someone who could deep-throat him because he sure started to moan, a deep rumble I could feel where my forehead touched his belly. I moaned back, vibrating my throat around the lovely hunk of dick as I slowly withdrew my mouth.

I caught his foreskin between my lips and tugged gently.

Is this too much detail? Okay.

I tugged at it gently and then I finally touched him with my hand. I held his cock firmly, just behind the head, holding his foreskin in place and slipped my tongue between it and the crown of his cock. That earned a "fuck me" or a "fuck yeah" or some version of the meaningless jumble that passes for conversation when nothing in your brain is working except the part that wants to rut.

I twirled my tongue around him like he was the world's best lollipop, which he might have been. I milked the shaft with my hand while I did it. Fuck man, he was primed. Jesus. I milked a good mouthful of jizz out of him long before he came.

When I was afraid the twirling tongue trick was becoming monotonous I started to suck him in earnest. I prefer the mouth and hand method. It's better if I can play with your balls, or even better, your asshole but he never did more than let his cock hang out of his zipper. I deep-throated him and pulled back, stroking his spit and precum slicked cock with a twisting motion of my hand. I stopped at the head for a few quick pops in and out of my pursed lips and then back down to the hilt.

The guy even smelled hot. He had thick dark bushy pubes that had a scent that said, "I run this fucking herd bitches." Of course, I believe I run the herd but fucking around with another alpha male is always hot, so it was cool.

He wasn't a suck, suck, and blast off kinda dude. He was a man. I sucked him until my jaw was beginning to ache. He came without a grunt, without a thrust, nothing. All of a sudden my mouth filled with his cum. I was surprised but delighted. I guess by this point, there is little reason to be coy. I love cum. Love it. I can't tell you why. I certainly know some faggots who hate it, or at best tolerate it but I love it. I'm not a submissive. I usually top; you know what the means? Okay. I like getting fucked too but on my own terms. So, anyway, not that it is particularly germane to the discussion, I don't love cum because of some desire to be dominated. I just love cum.

Like the rest of him, his cum was prime, baller as the kids say. I'm not sure where that word comes from, baller, but whatever, his cum was baller.

I was careful not to be too aggressive. I think that's where a lot of chicks screw up their blow jobs. They either get all pissy about cumming in their mouth or after, when you can barely stand to have anything touch your cock they keep jacking and sucking on it. I massaged the shaft with my tongue as the last dribbles filled my mouth. I did use enough pressure from my lips and tongue to pull out the last shaft-full of his cream.

I stood up and was getting ready to tell him how fucking hot he was and see if he wanted to meet up another time in more comfortable circumstances. But instead, I noticed he had his wallet flipped open. I have to tell you, man, I just stared at him, thinking it was a joke. When he said, "You're under arrest for public indecency," I actually laughed.

He still had his cock hanging out. Not to tell you your job but if the hospital didn't toss them out, you should check his underwear. You should also check his shirt. Remember, I told you I miscalculated and pulled out a little too late? Or too early? Anyway, I started to cum when I wasn't inside his mouth. He swallowed most of my load but not all. The other thing I was planning on telling him was that I was sorry for getting cum on his shirt. Check it out. If this wasn't mutual indecency why would he have my jizz on the front of his shirt? Why would his own shorts have his jizz drying inside them?

Don't get excited. I'm not telling you how to do your job or trying to be a dick but you got to know he can't make this stick. And as far as resisting arrest, fuck, man I didn't resist as much as avoided. Seriously dude, you're his colleague. Who pulls a badge and tells someone they're under arrest while he still has his dick hanging out of his fly? I mean what the fuck? Has he done this before? That look on your face makes me think the answer is yes. Seriously, dudes just stand there and wait for him to get dressed? Hell, he didn't even have any cuffs. Did he expect me to walk back to his car? He didn't fucking notice I was wearing running shorts?

I ran. I didn't lay a finger on him. I just took off. I was surprised he bothered to chase me. He fumbled around. I don't think he ever zipped his pants, another problem with his story but probably not one you can check at this point. There was no way he was going to catch me. The paunch did not detract from his cock but it was a bit of a hindrance when it came to running someone to the ground. It wasn't going to happen. My only concern was whether he'd taken down my license plate. I wasn't sure if I should circle around the lake, let him give up and stop to catch his breath or sprint for the car. I was sure I could get to my car and get out of the lot before he got close enough to read the plate, unless he'd already done so. Now I don't mean to besmirch your colleague. I'm sure ordinarily he's top-notch but I didn't have the feeling this was an ordinary day for him. There was clearly some deep conflicted shit going on inside his head. My guess is he hadn't approached this as a cop. The cop part of his head woke up after he shot his load. I bet myself he hadn't taken down my number as he'd past my car. It was likely he could have guessed it was my car. There were only two in the lot but still.

Anyway, I sprinted. As I topped the small crest that borders the wetlands behind me I turned to see if I was far enough ahead to just jump in my car and take off.

He was on the ground. I stopped, wondering if he'd fallen. He wasn't moving.

I could see he was in some sort of trouble. There was a guy unloading his bike in the parking lot. I yelled at him to call 911 and pointed back down the trail. He stared for a moment before leaning his bike and grabbing his phone and nodding. As soon as I saw he understood, I ran back to your buddy.

His forehead and nose were scraped. That was from the fall. Like I said, I never touched the guy. Well, I touched him but you know what I mean. I never hit him or shoved him.

I rolled him over as carefully as I could, worried a little about his neck but worried more that he was dead. He wasn't breathing and didn't have a pulse so I started CPR. I hadn't done more than a couple rounds when the biker joined me. He rotated in and we started two-man CPR. It seemed like you showed up very quickly after that.

You know the rest. We got his shirt open, got the AED on him and zap. One zap and he started sputtering and gasping. I could not fucking believe it when his eyes focused and he looked at you and said, "Arrest him." Jesus. I kind of just help saved his life. I could've hopped in my car and left him there. I don't get it. I don't know if he's a friend of yours or just someone you work with but seriously man, he has some major fucking issues to work out.

Have you heard how he's doing? It was a heart attack? Fuck. He didn't seem old enough to have to worry about that shit. But they getting him fixed up, right? Those balloons or stents or whatever the fuck they do? Good.

I'm going to go out on a limb here. I'm guessing you aren't planning to arrest me. You never read me my rights so you can't use any of this. We sitting on a bench outside the ER not at the station and I'm not wearing cuffs. I really don't want to add to your buddy's problems but you have to know if he pushes this, I'll have to push back. That's not a threat, not at all, just the way things'll play out. You could make sure the hospital "loses" his clothes but even without that, his story is tough to believe.

Beat it? Trust me you don't have to tell me twice.

Hey, officer, what's your buddy's name anyway?

Frank. Cool.

If you think it will help would you tell him I'm sorry things ended up like this? Thanks. Oh, and if you think it will help, you can subtly let him know he's got a porn star cock. I really hope he can work through whatever shit is going on in his head, you know? Seriously.

I noticed you didn't take any notes. Here's my number. Tell Frank if he wants to talk, I'd be happy to meet with him, no fucking around. I'm not coming on to him but if he wants to. If you think that's a dumb idea, throw it away.

Later man. I hope he's okay.