Under the Cartier Bridge

I met him on a blustery evening under the Cartier Bridge. The bicycle paths that ran along each side of the river were closed for the season. A layer of ice had already formed indistinct patterns on the surface of the water. But the trails were clear with barely any snow on the ground, and it was easy enough to duck underneath the leaden chain that stretched across the pathway entrance. Cars passed along the elevated road that ran parallel to the river, likely taxis with passengers returning home from downtown bars. There were no businesses or residential streets in this part of town though, not even the massive apartment buildings which dominated the skyline further north of the city. Bare trees and park benches marked this stretch of waterway, illuminated by the occasional lamp post.

It was past midnight, but the paths were not deserted. Soon after I began walking a man and his dog quietly passed me from behind. Again several minutes later another man appeared out of the dark, riding towards me on a bicycle. Steam puffed heavily out from between the folds of his scarf. As we approached each other he stared ahead, pretending not to notice me. I frowned and jammed my mittens into the pockets of my coat. He had said that we would meet along the way. I wondered at what point I would see him, or he would see me. How would he know who I am?

The temperature had dropped significantly since the holiday. My scratchy, woolen long johns did not do much to warm my thighs, which were quickly becoming numb from the wind. My toes throbbed from the cold inside my sneakers. When I kicked against the pavement to warm my feet the vibration traveled through my leg into my groin. The sudden stir caused my penis to strain against the fabric of my underpants, but I supposed that no one could see my growing erection through so many layers of clothing.

After some time the Cartier Bridge came into view. It was still covered in incandescent holiday lights, reflected by ice that had frozen vertically against the stone facade. I walked underneath the bridge and leaned against the handrail. Here the water continued to slowly flow downstream. It was here we met.

I looked absentmindedly around me, finally noticing a small structure that had been built into a recess beside the bridge. I had walked by it several times before in the daytime and assumed that the building housed electrical or else traffic equipment. The greasy window was dark. But inside I clearly saw the lit end of a cigarette moving from waist height to mouth. My heart throbbed loudly in my chest. I put a mitten on the handle of the door, but just before I could try it opened. Cigarette smoke wafted out into the night air. For a brief moment, I hesitated. I had never done anything like this before. 'What am I doing? Is this really him?' I wondered.

Then I stepped inside.

I could barely make out the dimensions of the room, but it was as small as it had looked on the outside. The outline of a man leaned against something near the door. We looked at each other. He was of average height and looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, though in the dim light I could hardly tell for sure. He had a thick beard that extended upward into a knit skullcap, and wore a heavy flannel jacket.

"You Michael?" he asked, finally.

"Yeah," I replied a little too excitedly, pulling off my mittens. Before I could say anything more, he threw his cigarette onto the floor and crushed it with a boot.

"Come here," he said.

I hesitated again, then knelt down on the floor in front of him. Wordlessly, he unbuttoned his blue jeans. Pulling the waistband of his shorts tentatively underneath his testicles, I smelled the distinctive odor of humid sweat emit from his crotch. I leaned forward into him, so much so that my nose nudged against a coarse mat of pubic hair. He looked at me, amused. I grinned back at him and wrapped my fingers around the shaft of his penis.

"No," he responded firmly, pushing me aside. "No hands."

I did not know exactly what to do. My arms dropped limply to my sides. He reached down and tugged off my cap. Cupping his palm against the back of my head, he pulled me towards him. Though he stood directly in front of me, my eyes did not yet adjust to the darkness, so I waited. The first thing I felt was the head of his circumcised penis rub against my lips, daubing them with watery precome. As I ran my tongue tentatively along his shaft, I discovered a thick vein that extended to the base of his cock.

I awkwardly tucked my teeth under my lips and bobbed slowly, deliberately over his member. Each time he entered my mouth, I tilted my head slightly and pressed my tongue upward to slide underneath his shaft. He seemed to like that. When he pulled out, I puckered my lips so that the corona of his cock head audibly popped free. We rocked back and forth for a number of minutes. Then, holding the shaft of his penis against his abdomen, he guided me deeper into his musky groin so that I could nuzzle at his scrotum. Despite what he wanted, I found it difficult to capture both of his testicles in my mouth at the same time without using my hands; each time I clamped down on one, the other slid free. He didn't seem to mind, nor did the cold seem to affect him. This time I opened wide and rose with an upward motion this time like a shark, enveloping him. I smiled over the base of his scrotum. My tongue pushed his balls against the roof of my mouth. Moaning loudly, he grabbed a fist of my hair.

Pulling my head gently backward by my hair, he yanked his scrotum free. He lifted me up from my knees and guided me towards the table. "That's good," he soothed, and for the first and only time that evening, he kissed me. His breath tasted like stale smoke, so I focused instead on the unfamiliar feeling of his beard as it scratched my face. His tongue slipped between my lips and hungrily entered my mouth. I had not thought about my penis since I arrived, but I now felt a cold, wet spot forming on the fabric my underwear. I began to wrap my arms around his neck, but he waved them away.

"Off," he said, turning me around to tug at my pants. I turned my head back in his direction.

"Are you serious?" I asked, incredulously. "It's cold man, no way."

"Get them off now," he demanded. Before I could respond, he pushed the upper half of my body down onto the table and leaned heavily against me. Reaching around my waist, I could feel him unbuckle my belt. In one rough motion, he managed to pull my pants, long johns, and underwear down around my ankles. Then, as if to show me what he thought of my complaint, he pulled the tangle of clothes over my sneakers and stripped them off me completely, throwing them noisily into a darkened corner of the room.

He leaned over me to whisper in my ear. "They stay there," he breathed.

I stood nervous, bottomless, and bent prostrate over the table. My testicles rapidly ascended high into my scrotum as they made contact with the chilly air. Seeing this he laughed and slapped my ass cheek.

He knelt gracelessly in front of my bare buttocks and pressed his nose into the crease between my cheeks. Breathing in and exhaling against my skin, he brushed his tongue against the bump between my butt and testicles. "Hmm," he mumbled with obvious satisfaction and nibbled at the tender mound. Raising his head, he placed a hand on either cheek and used his thumbs to spread them apart. My anus clenched tightly at the intrusion. He laughed again. "Look at that," he said.

I felt him lick slowly and deliberately around the rim of my anus, leaving more saliva with each pass of his tongue. He bit one of my cheeks — maybe to see whether or not I would react again — but returned at once to my anus, occasionally probing my anal bud with his stiffened tongue, a finger, then several fingers at once. It did not yield immediately. He grabbed my scrotum in mild frustration, forcing my testicles to uncomfortably descend again. "Open up," he persuaded, tugging them downward. I grunted and tried to relax my ass.

Sensing nothing, I looked back to see him rummage in his jacket pocket. After a few moments, he pulled out a small plastic bottle and opened the lid with an audible snap. Our eyes met and he grinned at me as I had done to him. Lifting the bottle dramatically high above us, he turned it upside down and squeezed. I felt a viscous substance pour between my buttocks. He emptied the contents of the bottle onto my ass, throwing the empty container into the corner with my clothes. Rivulets of cold liquid ran down my backside, along both cheeks. An errant stream moved down the inside of my leg and onto my sock, but much of it collected in a small puddle beneath me.

He smeared the liquid across the surface of my bottom, pushing my cheeks together and pulling them taut. Holding them open, he began to rub his thumb rhythmically around the entrance of my anus. I stifled several moans in the padding of my coat while he continued to knead. A thin layer condensation had formed under my mouth where I panted into my shoulder. He released me briefly, and then inserted a slick finger between my cheeks, past my tightened sphincter with relative ease. Crooking his finger, he passed it along the sensitive walls of my rectum. Another finger entered me in the opposite direction. His fingers pushed in and out my asshole for several minutes, widening slightly with every thrust.

Suddenly the movement stopped. He drew his fingers halfway out of my rectum, but rather than plunge them back inside again, he hooked them onto either side of my sphincter and pulled, spreading my anus. "Oh Jesus!" I exclaimed, involuntarily raising my leg. He reacted quickly, kneeling on my foot and pinning it to the ground.

"Relax," he said, inserting two more fingers and increasing the pressure.

Instinct caused my body to tense up, but he maintained a painful hold of the ring of pink muscle that protected my anus, leaving it vulnerable. Every time I unclenched my sphincter to breathe, he spread my hole a little bit wider. After a minute, he release his grip and I heard him stand up. "Auhhn," I sighed. Thinking that he had finished, I started to lift myself from the table, but he pinned me back down again. "No," he told me as he gave my ass a pat. "Just loosening you up."

He re-positioned himself behind me, placing his hands on my bare hips and forcing my legs even further apart. His pelvis ground up against my buttocks, which felt good against my cooling skin. Damp pubic hair and the fabric of his jacket rubbed together against my tailbone.

The head of his penis missed its intended target at first, bumping against the base of my scrotum instead. But he withdrew and tried again, this time sliding his stiffened cock up between my ass cheeks towards my anus. He pressed further, entering me gradually and with noticeably less resistance than his fingers had encountered. I could no longer prevent him from penetrating me, but neither could I easily accommodate the intrusion. I groaned in discomfort and arousal as he sunk his penis further inside my rectum. My sphincter stretched painfully to accept the last few inches of his cock, which were considerably wider than the rest of him.

"I don't think I can do this," I gasped.

He ignored me, shifting his weight to gain better access to my insides. His hands dropped to my ass cheeks locating what little flesh he could hold onto. I squirmed but remained in my position. Unsatisfied with his progress, he impatiently grabbed hold of my leg and lifted it onto the table. As I tucked my knee more comfortably against me, his hands returned to my sides, their fingers digging into my hip bones. Somewhat unexpectedly I felt — rather than heard — a sudden 'pop!' as my ass reluctantly submitted to his throbbing penis. I grunted aloud, uncontrollably while he plunged deeper inside me. The broad head of his penis came to rest upon the wall of my rectum. His pubic hair rubbed against the sensitive entrance of my anus. He had succeeded, he filled me completely.

We leaned against the table, locked together in coitus. I panted audibly with sharp, short breaths and my hands balled into small fists. The muscles of my anus clenched and retracted in response to his penetration, causing him to moan with satisfaction. He waited until my spasms lessened, and pulled his cock halfway out of my ass before pushing it back to the hilt again. "Fu-uck yeah," he exclaimed. I reached backward to grab the edge of the table. Leaning against my upraised leg with one hand, the other squeezed against my buttock, he drove his swollen penis steadily into and out of my rectum, never pulling out completely. Having no other choice, I gave in to his inclinations. I pushed my ass back against him. When he grabbed a hand full of my hair, I leaned back moaning in response. I called out his name. I told him to fuck me. I told him that he could do what he wanted.

I do not know whether he was listening to anything that I said, but he definitely responded as I pulled my other leg onto the table and arched my back. He slid the tail of my coat up my sweaty back toward my shoulders. Slapping one hand on either ass cheek, he spread them widely once more and thrust his pelvis against me. Again, my sphincter relented to the pressure of his penis. He could tell now that I would not move, but when I shifted my arms outward to hold the sides of the table he shoved his hands against my back. We remained in this position while he fucked my ass with purpose for what seemed like an hour. I felt his pulse through the vein that bulged against the rim of my anus.

Without warning, he clumsily dismounted me. I expected him to penetrate me again and braced myself for him re-entry. Instead, one of his hands left my back and as I turned my head to follow it I saw him grip the base of his penis tightly. His sweat-sheened face was as bright as his jacket, as I imagined of my swollen anus. His nostrils flared violently. With a shudder his hand passed forward over his scrotum to the very tip of his cock. A string of semen erupted from within him, landing squarely against the side of my face and backward the length my coat. Still pumping his fist from one end of his shaft to the other, he aimed downward this time so that the second and third streams of come spread across my bare skin. He fell forward onto me and rubbed his penis along the cleft of my sore buttocks, trembling with every stroke. Small pools of cloudy ejaculate formed around the small of my back.

Above us, a car passed audibly over the bridge into darkness of early morning.