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Brief Encounter on the Heath

Posted by: Age: 47 Posted on: 1 comments
2 likes 1098 views Category: Masturbation Male-Male Tags: outdoors, watching, handsome, big cock, coming

How should I respond when a young black man invites me to join him on Hampstead Heath?

 

It was a hot summer's day and London was stifling. The streets were humid, the air was still; sweaty patches formed under your armpits even when you were doing nothing. There was only one place to be - in the park -Hampstead Heath. To stretch out on the grass and relax, that's all I wanted.

I called in at home to pick-up my dog. My wife was away. The dog in question was a very cute Tibetan Terrier called Alfred. Everyone commented on the fact that Alfred was completely white. His face was covered in shaggy hairs that tumbled over his eyes, his tail curled round in a cute kind of question mark, he was little but feisty and everybody loved him.

So I took Alfred onto Hampstead Heath, which everyone knows is famous for being a gay pick-up place. What is also common knowledge is that gay men love cute little dogs. Despite this being common knowledge, this married man, thoroughly heterosexual, took the cute little dog, laid out a rug and began to read my book. It was hot, as I have already mentioned, so I was wearing shorts. I took off my shirt, put on my RayBans, and settled down to read without any awareness of how I might appear to others.

But it was hard to concentrate on my book. I looked around at my surroundings shimmering in the heat haze. Couples lay out in the sun, sipping wine, eating their picnics, reading their newspapers. Then I saw a young black man cycling along one of the paths coming towards me. He stopped about 40 yards away from me and fixed his gaze on me.

I looked away, trying to read my book, avoiding eye contact. But his presence drew me to him. I looked up and saw that he had released the buckle of the belt of his jeans and, as I watched, he unbuttoned his flies. He held my gaze as he leaned against his cycle while his hand dived into his trousers and pulled out his long black cock. It hung there like the cock in Robert Mapplethorpe's famous photograph of the Man in Polyester Suit. He stared at me. He seemed to be questioning, inviting me. To what, for what?

I looked away embarrassed and flustered. There was no doubt that it was me and my cute little dog that he was focusing his attention on. I felt nervous, confused. How should I respond? I decided to pack-up my blanket, my book, my bottle of water, put on my shirt and walk away. I put Alfred on his lead, and as I did so, I glanced up only to find that the beautiful black man and his bicycle had gone.

So I set-off to leave the park with Alfred obediently following. A few yards on, as I rounded a corner, I saw behind a bed of large ornamental shrubs, the same young black man. He was lying down and now his penis was erect. I could see he was stroking his cock with care and determination. He wasn't look for me anymore. His attention was entirely on his sex and the fulfillment of his desire. I thought he hadn't seen me, so I paused to watch his hand with accelerating movements stroking the shaft of his cock. In a matter of seconds he came, shooting his spunk in an elegant parabola away from his clothes.

Calmly he looked up, and once again fixed me with his piercing eyes. Then he smiled.

I hurried away feeling guilty that I had watched him, but I have often wondered what might have happened if I had returned the invitation that he was clearly sending me on that hot afternoon on Hampstead Heath. How might my life have been different if I had masturbated that handsome man with his beautiful cock, not him? I will never know, but I regret that I was too confused, too conventional, too scared to find out. I still remember him sometimes when I am alone, as he was. Like him, I masturbate myself but i wish it was him stroking me as he once desired me to stroke to him.

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