Remember the days before Guliani? The days before NYC became, if only by it's own standards, cleaned-up?
I do. I loved the 'dirty' days. Bookstores were around. Adult theatres (the 'Adonis'...anyone? anyone?) were where I spent my afterwork hours.
Of course, being a broke student in the city on an internship - sometimes I couldn't afford the theatres and the enviornment they provided. Sometimes you just had to endure the showiness of nature. And for that - I thank g-d for Central Park.
The Rambles in particular. For the uninitated it's hard to describe. Winding paths near the lake and through wooded (sometimes heavily) areas and rock formations. The paths were very winding that sometimes brought you back to where you started or dumped you out someplace completely unfamiliar. Let's face it - even when I had money, I still did a tour through the park.
I'm sure at night it could be dangerous and even more cruisy. But really - any time of the day didn't lack for activity. All walks of life - suits to blue collar. White-black-hispanic. All good. All with one thing on their mind. How they achieved that ending all varied.
But for a young guy who needed (and still does) to be able to please sexually, it was the place for me. First going through there w/a pit in my stomach not knowing what to expect. But there was this guy (isn't there always) whose sexuality just oozed out of his pores - and a type of guy who could talk you into anything. Late 20s. Dark hair and lots of it.
Oddly enough though, he talked ME into letting him go down on me. That's ususally not my M.O., but I obliged, well....b/c he could talk me into anything. I was big and hard and he loved being down on his knees on top of this tree covered knoll. Me leaning against a tree - him taking me to the root while he stroked his own piece. Unfortunately - I never came, but he popped his nut all over the dirt. Then I was history. He was gone in a flash.
The great thing about CP - there is always someone else around. I never even had to move. After #1 left, there was a guy a dozen yards away, watching...stroking. Late 50s I guess. Impeccably dressed...salt and pepper hair carrying a fucking Bergdorf bag. He walked over, still exposed and I dropped to my knees - which is what he was looking for. He dropped the bag. His hand went to the back of my head and guided me along.
Another great thing about CP is - it's about the moment. No long encounters. You can't afford those. Not there. In 5-7 min he just said....'baby, it is ALL yours!' and fed me my afterwork meal. Gushes of cum - none of it I missed. I cleaned him off quickly and he pulled back. As he picked up his bag - he says, 'you've got an audience'. And I did (well, we did, but he removed himself from that equation). 3 guys watching. Some stroking. One w/out a word just stepped up and took over from Bergdorf man. Not a word from him the entire time - but I took a nice load from his u/c dick in a matter of minutes.
The next guy I had to signal over. Not sure why he thought he wasn't worthy - but I finally coaxed him. He came over and took out his own member - though I am always happy to help a guy out. But whatever trepidation he had pretty much went away after I got him in my mouth. He started bucking his hips and fucking my face in ernest. And loud. No issue about who might hear him - telling me to take every inch and make him feel good. Starting to demand 'shoot it!!!'. Turns out it wasn't for me, but the other guy watching, who ended up stroking off while watching the entire series of events. That pushed shy guy (HA!) over the edge and he filled my throat w/cream.
It's all I could do to pull away quick enough to ejaculate w/out cumming on his shoes. I got all his load, but didn't get to clean him off the way I would have liked to.
But that's the great thing about NYC and CP - always another time and another guy(s).
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