Date: Fri, 23 Oct 2020 12:49:26 +0100 From: nikinak13@hushmail.com Subject: Highbury Fields (Gay adult youth) It was a late summer night. Leaves, brown and yellow were spinning slowly to the just cut grass, all over the park. I say park, but Highbury Fields was always much more than that. Not just to me...even though I was lucky enough to live directly opposite. To me it was somewhere to meet friends, whistle longingly if despairing at pretty, unobtainable girls and in the summer evenings, play tennis on the tatty Council hard courts. But to others it was a jogging paradise, crossed with numerous tarmac paths, which snaked between hundreds of mature trees over the 10 acres the land sprawled in the middle of busy and overcrowded Islington. There was a fair sized cafe in the middle, busy during the day with suited customers drinking lattes and mochas. Cyclists stopped there too for a cold drink, or a refill from the water fountain for their designer water bottles, before squeezing their Lycra clad bodies back onto razor blade saddles, to torture themselves some more in the name of fitness. But this night, it was to be a different kind of park...for me at least. Tonight the ugly, squat building 50 metres from the closed cafe would become a place I would remember for years afterwards. It was my 16th year. I was in the middle of my A levels, studying hard so my parents wouldn't be able to complain about the money they were about to blow on my overpriced university education. Up until then, life had been pretty standard. I was in the top third of my class, solid, but not spectacular. Everything about me was average. Average height, mousy blonde hair, average weight. I had a group of average friends, we hung out between classes and after school, played average tennis, attempted to drink alcohol, tried, then discarded cigarettes and failed dismally at attracting the attention of the strange group of other pupils at school called girls. We all boasted we weren't virgins, but I'm pretty sure we all still were. There HAD been some clumsy fumbling at parties...the odd attempt to get past second base against the wall at youth club with an unwilling female. But real sex evaded us...at least for that year. But as this is an honest account. I have to confess I was far from being a virgin in at least one way. Anyone who's read my account of my initiation into boy/boy sex (the-rec, if you're interested) will already know that 2 years prior to this special night, I had been comprehensively seduced by a boy 6 months younger than me...who had introduced me to the delights of another hand on my cock and...heaven of heavens...a hot and eager mouth too. Robin had been a diligent and hungry teacher...and I'd been just as keen a pupil. So I wasn't totally unaware of sex. It's just with Robin gone and a change of area and school, there hadn't been any other opportunities to...uh...experiment. Strangely, I wasn't at all ill at ease with my confused sexuality. 2 years later, I still got a hard on seeing a pair of pert tits on the tv. But I got just as aroused if not more, if I got a glimpse in the school showers of a semi hard cock. I guess I came to terms with my bisexuality early on. Lucky me, huh? But tonight was to be different. My friends had gradually peeled off home, one by one. My parents were out, along with my annoying little brother, at some lame school play. They wouldn't be in before 10...and it was only 7.30. Commuters were still marching up Highbury Grove, besuited, eager to get indoors, throw off the work clothes and submerge inside a large Gin and Tonic, I guessed. I remembered the thrill I'd got two years previously, when my idle exploration of another secluded toilet block introduced me to my younger seducer...and eventually to kneeling on a wooden floor, naked as the day, my mouth stretched around the biggest cock I had ever seen. The experience, brief as it was, had etched itself into my brain. I have no idea how many times I masturbated to those intense memories. Hundreds, probably. It was my main fantasy...guaranteed to set me off like a Guy Fawkes rocket within minutes of the images bubbling to the surface. So tonight, without any real expectation, I ditched my tepid Sprite can in a handy bin and made my way across the grass to the entrance. The same smell, the same echoey silence greeted me. Those little yellow cubes of disinfectant still made my nose itch. And once I was inside...the walls, despite the Councils attempts to overpaint, carried the same lurid and obscene graffiti. Once more, my cock stiffened as I read the promises, the probably fake phone numbers and the crudely drawn cocks and balls. I made my way along the cubicles. At this time of night, it was silent and a little eerie in the empty building. The doors creaked as I passed along, pushing open each one. There was plenty of `artwork' to admire, but unlike three summers ago, no kneeling Robin fellating a large adult cock. I sighed as I reached the last cubicle. Empty, like the rest. But this one, when I swung the door, had a rather more creative message on the reverse of the steel plated door. My cock was still semi hard, from reading the earlier graffiti, so on a whim, I locked the door before dropping my Levi's and Calvin Kleins to the (luckily dry and clean) floor. Then I sat down and began to idly stroke myself. Reading the lurid prose on the flaky wall, I settled into a familiar routine. One hand slowly stroking, the other cupping my balls, using my fingertips...just like Robin taught me...to stimulate them. It wasn't long before I started gripping harder. The graffiti was soon forgotten. Eyes closed, head back, I began to pump in earnest. This wouldn't take long... But then I heard the outside door squeak open. I froze. Probably just a commuter, taking the opportunity to relieve his bladder on the way between train and home. The toilet block was visible from the road.... The intruder coughed gently and proceeded to walk along the row of 6 cubicles, as I had minutes earlier. Obviously not just a quick piss then...he bypassed the row of porcelain urinals as he walked slowly towards me. I held my breath. Could it even be the cops? I was too young then to be aware of what they called `cottaging'. But I wasn't THAT naïve. I'd seen the odd report in the Islington Gazette about guys being prosecuted for `gross indecency', whatever that was (it wasn't till years later I understood that gross indecency was something I had enthusiastically participated in several times...) Anyway. He stopped at the cubicle before mine. I realised he must have known mine was occupied, by the closed door. But his motives for using the one right next to mine weren't clear at all to my 16 year old self. I know better now... As the door next to me swung open, I carried on playing statues, my slowly wilting dick still in my hand, frozen in indecision. Maybe he'd just settle on the toilet, do his business, then fuck off? That little theory went straight out of the window when I heard his trousers hit the floor with a soft jingle of keys and loose change. Because he didn't sit down. The skin prickled on the back of my neck as I realised he was waiting...for something. Then something which made me jump like a frightened fawn. Next to me, just at seated head height, a folded wad of toilet paper popped from a hole I hadn't even seen. There was a shuffle next door, then two thick fingers protruded through. I stared at them, my face was probably showing how stunned I was, but obviously he couldn't see that. I swallowed hard. It was obviously a signal...but I didn't speak the language? I swallowed again, I heard a sigh as the waggling fingers were taken back. A voice came softly then " Do you want to play?" It said in a deep tone. I very much did want to play...but how. Somehow I got my scratchy voice back and whispered hoarsely in reply. "Yeah...yeah I do" There was a chuckle then. The opening wasn't very wide, but I could see movement. Then, in a move which made my cock go rigid again...a large, distended and VERY black cock slid through the gap...right at my astonished face. I think I whimpered then. Two years seemed to disappear in seconds. I was back in that warm shed, kneeling in front of Benjamin, my mouth watering at the prospect of being filled with hot, smooth flesh. I was on autopilot. Without conscious thought, my head dipped, my mouth opened and I swiped my tongue round the purple head. The owner of the cock hissed in what I hoped was pleasure. Again I licked slowly round it and then opened my mouth wider. I wanted that monster inside my mouth. My hand came up and gripped the warm shaft gently. Veins and contours I had almost forgotten were again under my fingers and tongue. For a couple of glorious minutes, there was just my mouth, the thick bar of flesh and my giddy brain. I was sucking an adult off...and judging by the sighs and grunts, he was loving it as much as me. I thought the conclusion would be predictable. This was obviously a commuter, making a detour to get his cock sucked. No finesse or introductions needed. He wanted a willing mouth and a throat happy to consume the cum he needed to eject. I was just a handy receptacle. But it didn't work out quite like that. Almost abruptly, he pulled free of my clinging lips and panted as he stepped back. I was puzzled...was I that bad at it..? His next words put that thought out of my head. I heard the bolt to his cubicle slide open and then he was tapping on my door. "Come on man...I want to suck yours too...open up?" The mans words hung in the air as I sat there, my cock still at full mast, the taste of his warm erection still fresh in my mouth. A hundred thoughts spun through my mind at a million miles an hour. I wanted to finish him off...I wanted to finish ME off...I wanted...I wanted it all... But I couldn't sit there like that, mute, dumb. The guy would get bored waiting and all I would be left with would be an aching set of balls and the lingering taste in my mouth. Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward and slipped the bolt. He stood there in the harsh light of the corridor, blocking out the whole door frame. I blinked at the glare from the overhead light, after the dimness of the cubicle. He looked almost intimidating, standing over me. At least 6 feet tall. Smart grey striped suit, bright blue tie, loose at the unbuttoned neck of his shirt, thick, black rimmed glasses on a broad face. He must have been in his 40's. African? Carribean? His eyes widened as he took me in properly. "Fucking hell kid..." he said in a deep voice " how old ARE you...?" It was then I noticed he still had his cock hanging out, semi hard now, but still impressive. I licked my lips without thinking about it. It really was electrifying. Twice as long as mine...or so I thought then. Thicker. Like one of those fantasy cocks I had masturbated over in magazines.... "Eighteen?" I said nervously, still staring at the cock sticking out of his flies. He was holding his trousers up under that trouser snake with one hand, material bunched in his hand. His balls were still inside his shorts, but my mind instantly wondered hotly what they would feel like in my own hands, if I were lucky enough to get that monster back in my mouth. He laughed shortly. No sale. "Truth?" he rumbled, still chuckling. "16" I mumbled, face hot with embarrassment "b...but I want to...YOU want me to...don't you?" This time he shrugged. But I noticed the cock twitch and start to harden again. His voice was tight...not as relaxed. I could see he was fighting with his own instincts. "No one can ever..." he started. I knew what he meant. "No one ever will...except you and me" I said in a voice which trembled just a little. I wanted this so much...and he could...should...bolt at any minute."I've done it before...loads of times...I'm good...I promise...I'll make you cum..." I stopped them realising I was babbling. I had no idea if I was any good at it really. Robin had been easy to get off. His six inches had exploded in my hungry mouth several times. But did he count? He'd told me "They don't...usually..." the first time I went down on him. What if I was crap at it and he was just being kind, hoping I'd do him again? Then there was Benjamin...a man...black as this one...but he was used to getting off in a young teenagers mouth. Perhaps my clumsiness and inexperience were the only reasons he fired off that volley of cum into my mouth? But I was worrying for nothing. With a slight shrug and a quick look over his shoulder at the empty corridor, he shuffled forward and pushed the door closed with a metallic clang, sliding the bolt over. He seemed even bigger this close. I could smell his excitement...the big cock swelling again until it bounced slightly, an inch from my nose. I breathed in with a shudder. I was really gonna do this. Wasn't I? The first touch of my tongue on his exposed glans made him shudder too. I heard that sharp intake of breath as my mouth stretched to take the plum like head inside. One of his hands went to the side of the cubicle, steadying himself. The other moved to the back of my head...not gripping, just holding. The action resulted in his suit trousers dropping to the floor again with the accompanying jingle of keys and change. Impatiently, I pushed his shorts down to his knees, using my tongue to explore the flesh in my mouth. I could taste pre cum, sweet and viscous, making my lapping even softer on the swollen muscle. He groaned louder this time and his hand tightened in my longish hair. My breath was coming in short pants, my nose inches still from his flat stomach. I was in heaven. This man was going to let me suck him off...take his cum. I was almost dizzy with want. My own cock bobbed between my legs, untended, but it didn't seem to matter. If I got to finish him off, I knew instinctively that I would have enough wanking material in my memory banks for a gallon of ejaculations in future. If I never got to be in this position again, I knew it would still be enough. "Fuck boy..." he said, his voice an octave higher...strained.."You HAVE done this before...pretty little cocksucker...come on...show me how much you love it" I shivered at his words, but wasn't about to answer him. The cock was now leaking more in my mouth and I tried to push it deeper, increasing the suction. Now my hands were free to cup those incredible big balls...heavy and warm. He moaned again, his fingers squeezing my head...not painfully, just encouraging. Not that I needed that. Like I said...heaven. I could hear the sound of London buses chugging up Highbury Grove and the lower, muted sound of other traffic. Life was going on without a pause in the outside world, but my own universe was here, naked from the waist down, my cock bobbing in time with my head as I sucked and licked him. It didn't last long...not nearly long enough...but then, how could it? I was too excited...he was way too excited. I guess, thinking back, he'd come into what I later found out was a well known `cottaging' spot to get off. But he hadn't expected a young looking 16 year old. Certainly not one who worshipped his dick this eagerly. After less than 5 minutes of his cock slipping into my mouth, he was hissing a warning. I suppose he expected me to pull off...maybe grant him the privilege of spraying my face and neck with jets of sperm. But I'd never pulled off in my life. Not then, not now. I hummed as I remembered Robin doing to me. Increased my suction and bobbed my head faster. I looked up to see him staring down at me intently, his eyes wide with surprise. I felt his balls tighten in my hand and the shaft thicken as fluid sped up it. Bracing myself for the flood to come, I increased the pressure of my lips and put the bottom of my tongue against the spot on his glans I knew the cum would fly from. The first pulse flooded my mouth and I swallowed it convulsively, I knew there would be more. Sure enough, shots 2,3 and 4 were right behind. Not as copious as I'd feared. Certainly not the tsunami Benjamin had ejected into my mouth, but definitely a whole quantum leap more than Robin had produced on the several occasions I'd serviced him. Then the flood slowed. I savoured the slightly chemical, wheaty taste and allowed the head of his cock to slowly slip from my mouth. I was reluctant to let it go. He might have been the one satisfied, but I knew my own erection would need attention straight after this. Even when I was first ejaculating, I don't think I was quite such a hair trigger as now. I darent even touch it, much as I wanted to. He slipped his cock back into hastily pulled up boxers, following with the suit trousers. The belt tapped me on the nose as he looped it back together, making me blink. My mouth tingled, already missing the fullness I'd enjoyed for way too short a time. His voice again deep and low, he spoke as he reached behind himself, slipping the bolt free. "Such a hot little cocksucker, boy" he rumbled "I'm back next Wednesday...if you want to do it again?" I looked up in surprise. "Yeah...I mean...yes...I'd like that" I said, cursing myself for sounding so pathetic. But it was the truth...I did want to. But I never saw him again. A week later, I hung around the block for an hour, hoping he'd show, but the only `action' I got was from a fat guy in his 60's, who watched me for long minutes as I circled the toilets on my bike, finally asking me if I wanted him to blow me. I looked at his straggly beard, paunch and frankly dishevelled appearance and decided no...I didn't want him to blow me. But the memory of that night, that cock and that experience has never left me.