Lubed and Ready ?

 Lubed and ready?”

These would be the first words he’d say to me. 

I  was out after my workout and swung by the park to which I’ve been visiting. I won’t lie, it attracts mostly black men, and that is kind of why I frequent this place. As it turns out, I’m either too old, or too white (or both) for these guys most of the time. Usually they won’t even acknowledge me at all.  I get it. But I don’t dress like a cop might, which leads me back to the age/race part. Now and then, I’m taken up on my offers, as you’ve read over the last few months – as some of those tales have taken place here. 

It was a Sunday morning, and cold. It is early March, ya know. Two cars in the lot. One car has blacked out windows, so I don’t know who is in there, or if anyone is in there. I have a clear shot to the shelter area, and no one is waiting there. I hang in the car for a few. 

The area has shitty cell service, so I don’t know if anyone nearby is on any of the apps. Sniffies kind of comes up, but everything has a major lag.  I grab my keys and poppers and walk towards the shelter. I pass by the other car. I can kind of see a white guy inside. I can’t tell his age, but his hair makes me think he is old. He has a lot of stupid bumper stickers on his car. 

I’m not in the shelter for long when I see him leave his car and approaching. He’s not as old as I believed, just greying hair, most likely prematurely, though he’s not like in his 30s or probably 40s. There is no standing and foot shifting. No hemming. No hawing.  He pulls at his zipper and asks – “lubed & ready?”.  I tell him I’m ready. I say spit will have to do for lube.  He doesn’t even flinch. 

I drop my sweatpants down far enough. I’m commando underneath. I go to bend over the waist high wall.  He wants me to turn towards the parking lot so we can see someone coming.  I can figure out if a car is coming, I face my way to see if hikers, who make less noise, are approaching. I win. Duh. 

He put his dry 7.5”, but thick, cock to my hole. I have to remind him about the spit. I also spit into my hand and slather my hole with saliva. “Fuck yeah”, I hear him say as he watches me apply it liberally. 

I like this guy. It’s about fucking. It’s not about me sucking him to get him hard so he can perform. He’s ready. This is all he wants. Ass. Hole. Cock. Raw.  I’m all about giving it to him. 

I resume my place over the wall. Ass out. Poppers in hand. With little trouble, I might add, he slides the head and first inch up my hole. We both know he’s in, so he just keeps sinking. Deeper. Till he bottoms out.  And then the fucking starts. 

The guy has skills. He knows how to fuck.  Deep strokes. Not all the way out, but close. Plunging back in. Grinding. Making himself known. 

He tells me he his wife thinks he’s at the grocery store. I let him believe that I believe his lie. He has a wife about as much as I have one. I think his lie makes his cock harder. Or so it seemed. It is quite possibly my imagination. 

For a semi-exposed park fuck, this goes on a while. Usually it’s in and out. Literally.  And figuratively. But he saws away – in out in out in out in out – making himself feel good, making me feel great, though I don’t think he cared a bit about my pleasure. He sure didn’t ask. Though my “ohhh yeah….keep fucking me” might have been a clue that I was liking having my butthole used by a stranger in a public place. But that’s just a hunch. 

Like I said, he was good at his craft. I took it like a champ. My ass was open for him and he took full use of that “experience”. He fucked. He pounded. There was no “just sex” kind of thing, it was a FUCK. But it’s a park, you have to expect that. It’s about immediacy and the ability to do what you need to and move one. 

Yeah, I hoped that someone else would show up. Take over from where he finished. This time there’d be no need for spit or more lube. But I saw the parking lot. No one was around. 

Still, he had to get home to “the wife”. He was moaning. He was close and I knew he was starting to shoot.  But I’m a fucking self-centered whore sometimes. I want to know what he / they are doing at that moment.  So I prompt.  “What you are doing?  What’s going on??  Say it!”   This response:  “I’m breeding your fuckhole.”   

Boom. That’s all I wanted. I don’t ask for much. 

As I always do, I use my ass muscles after they ejaculate. I plan to squeeze out every drop of their jizz. I know they can be sensitive, but I find it important to get it all. Deep down, I have to believe the tops want it all taken in – no matter what end. But as it bound to happen, the guy eventually slides out, on his own accord, or just due to gravity and flaccidness. 

He stands there for a few seconds looking around.  “Got anything to clean this off?” as he gestures to his dick.  I drop to my knees and go, “how about this?” and stick out my tongue.   “Yeahhhhhhh.  Fuck yeah” is his response. My lips wrap around his head and take him down to his pubes. I make a show of it, and then back out and use my outstretched tongue, so he knows I’m cleaning his cock. 

He pulls away, tucks himself back in and pseudo waves as he walks away.