Par Wor

I'd just graduated from high school and turned 18 about a month before. Summer was here and I'd gotten a job working for the city park commission doing general landscape maintenance work at a small wooded park located at the edge of town. The job was temporary, created for the summer, and didn't pay very well. I didn't mind, I was outside and on my own all day long. This was in 1975. I was 6'2" tall, weighed about 150#, had long blonde straight hair, blue eyes, and typically wore only a pair of short, cut off blue jeans and my work boots for most of the day.

I was supposed to wear a shirt, but the park was unsupervised and isolated. I was tan and free, and, up to that point in my life, unquestionably straight. I was still a virgin, which was irksome in those days of supposed free love, but I had had many hot petting sessions on dates - some leaving my jeans in a rather sticky condition. I was pretty naive when it can to the gay lifestyle. In fact I didn't know anything about gays or being gay. As far as I was concerned, I'd never known a gay person in my entire short life.

It took me about 2 weeks, and a surprise encounter, before I figured out that this park had a secret side to it. One that the that the park commission hadn't intended, and one that I hadn't known existed before. Everyday around noon, a number of single men, including business men, frequented the one restroom, and a few went off into the woods together. I also noticed that guys seemed to come and go throughout the day.

On that day, two weeks into my tenure as a park worker, I was working along the edge of the woods cleaning up debris and litter that had blown into the long grass. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted movement about 50 feet into the trees and made out the profile of a guy. He was leaning with his back against a tree and his stomach arched outwards. I thought a first he was simply taking a leak, but then I noticed the other man. The second man was on his knees, kneeling in front of him. My mouth dropped open and I knelt down to hide from their view. The standing man had his hard cock in the others mouth. He was getting a blow job from the man kneeling on the ground!

My heart started to pound. Not only from the anxiety of being caught, but also at the sight in front of me. The standing man's hands clutched the back of the others head as his large cock slid in and out of the kneeling mans mouth. I felt I should leave. This was abnormal and I shouldn't be watching it. Most of all, I shouldn't be getting the rock hard erection that was filling my shorts. I wasn't gay, but I was fast becoming hard and couldn't stop staring. The standing man pulled his cock from the kneeling mans mouth.

The crouched man took his balls and cupped them in his hand while stroking the other hard dick. It was all the standing man could take. He tensed and I knew he was about to cum. I had gotten so hard that I wanted to pull my own cock out and jerk off. Streams of hot sperm shot from the standing mans penis onto the leaf blanketed ground. The kneeling man licked the tip of the other's cock, cleaning away the last traces of his orgasm. I couldn't believe how hard I was. My cock and balls ached. I actually wished that my dick had been sucked by the man on the ground. I tried to sneak away with out being seen, but in the process knocked over the cart that I had half filled with debris. Without looking back I made my way to the mens room where I hoped to find relief in one of the 2 stalls.

I felt a hand clutch my shoulder and I turned around to face the guy who had been on his knees. He was probably in his mid 30's, dark haired, with an athletic build. I couldn't help it, but my eyes focused on his lips. I couldn't see any cum, but I knew that he'd just licked a dick clean.

"Did you see what we were doing back there," he asked me in a hushed voice. My heart was pounding and I knew I was flushed.

"What do you mean," I intelligently responded.

"Were you watching what we were doing," he asked again?

"I won't tell anyone, I replied." "I didn't mean to see you. I wasn't spying"

He reached out and cupped my crotch with his free hand. "It seems you liked what you saw. Do you want me to do it to you," he asked?

"Hey, I'm not queer," I answered quickly. "I like girls. I don't do it with guys"

He smiled and continued to massage my hard cock through my cut offs. Like most 18 year old guys with a raging hard on, at that point it didn't matter if he was a guy, a girl, or a trained chimp, if he kept doing what he was doing, I'd soon cum in my jeans.

"I'm not queer either," he answered - a blatant lie I found out later. "I just like to give blow jobs." At least this statement was true. "Just shut your eyes and pretend I'm a girl."

Walking behind me, with his hands on my hips, he guided me into a stall, and sat on the toilet in front of me. I shut my eyes and felt his fingers undo the top button on my shorts and slowly pull down my zipper. I made a soft moan in anticipation. His hands grabbed each side of my jean shorts and he pulled them down around my ankles with one movement. My cock sprang free, rock hard inches from his face.

He gently cupped each of my butt checks with his hands and pulled me forward until the swollen head of my cock was pressed against his closed lips. I groaned and tried to push my cock into his mouth but it remained closed. His tongue slid out and scraped along the bottom of my mushroom. My knees buckled and I fell back against the stall door and making a loud noise. He quietly scolded me for making the noise and pulled me towards him, his hands squeezing my bare ass. He took me into his mouth.

God, I had never felt anything like this before. I moaned and he shussed me again. It was so good. I wanted it to go on for ever, but knew that I'd be lucky if I held out for more than a minute. I'd never felt anything so hot, warm, and intense before in my life.

He pulled my cock from his mouth and replaced it with my balls, squeezing the base of my dick so I wouldn't cum. I felt so vulnerable and so excited. I was under his control. He could do with me what he wanted. His tongue rolled my balls back and forth and I gasped at the sensation. Without thinking, I cupped the back of his head with my hands as the man had outside.

His attentions returned to my cock, his hot, wet mouth encompassing half of its length. He sucking became more intense, as if he wanted to suck the cum from my dick like a thick milkshake through a small straw.

"It's going to happen," I gasped as I felt my cock swell and my cum boil up. I made a feeble attempt to pull from his mouth, but he held me firm inside. I exploded and held him in place. He never stopped sucking, milking my cum with his tongue, mouth and lips. I felt like I'd never stop cumming. It was if I'd never cum before, and in a way that was true. I'd never experienced anything like this before. A furtive hand job, in my pants, by a nervous girl in no way compared. Obviously he was being honest when he said he like to give blow jobs. He swallowed my cum greedily.

"I'm sorry," I lamely said.

He laughed and replied, "I'm not." He licked the last drop of cum from my cock, pulled up my shorts, tucked me in, zipped me up and said, "I come here at least once a week, see you soon."

With that he opened the stall and left. I stayed inside for another few minutes trying to slow down my breathing and stop shaking. It was obvious that something significant had changed in my life. I was confused as to whether this was good or bad. Everything that I had heard during the first seventeen years of my life said this was not right. However, when I started to get hard again as I pictured what had just happened, I said out loud. "Fuck em all." I was surprised when I heard a voice from the stall next to me say; "Well son, maybe not all of them, but at least one at a time."

But, that's the start of another story.