CRUISING

by Jonathan Peters

Copyright ©2026

It was midnight by the time I arrived at the park, and I was sweating, not from the heat, although it was quite hot and humid that Saturday night, but from nerves. I’d come to the park to cruise, my first time to do so, ever.

I’d learned of this park from a hookup app that displayed all the cruise spots in my city. This was one of the more popular destinations because of the tall Cottonwood trees that kept the park in perpetual shadow. It was a frisbee park during the day. But at night it was a different type of playground.

I parked near a row of silent houses lining the east side of the park on a long, winding road. Besides a few porch lights, the row of houses was dark, silent. I stepped out of my car, first making sure that the dome light in my car wouldn’t trigger when I opened the door. I wanted absolutely nobody to see me.

The app said that most of the action was near the back of the park, so I pulled my ball cap down to my eyes and started walking. It was pitch black, the only light the streetlamps now behind me. I hurried deeper into the park, winding around a giant spruce bush that, upon passing, I heard a rustling noise. Whether it was an animal, my imagination, or someone getting a blowjob, I didn’t stick around to find out.

At the back of the park was a hill, silhouetted by an unseen light source from the other side. I expected to see people milling about, but it was deserted. Was I at the right place? I stood near a Cottonwood tree, using its massive trunk as protection against prying eyes. I was deathly afraid of cops, but this place, according to the app, never got busted, so I tried to just play it cool. I leaned against the tree and took out my phone to scroll the app, but the light was so bright that I quickly ditched that idea and deposited my cell back in my pocket.

That’s when I saw my first figure. They were a sharp outline against the light coming from the other side of the hill. They were sitting at the top on a bench I hadn’t noticed before. I watched them for a few minutes, wondering if they were there for the same reason. Was the top of the hill where everyone met? I didn’t know, but I decided to approach this figure and find out.

My heart was pounding through my chest as I made my way up the hill. I slowly approached the figure from the north, my shoes occasionally slipping in the wet grass. I hoped they hadn’t noticed my clumsiness. 

I was no more than twenty feet away from them when they finally moved. It was a slight motion, just a quick wave of their hand. Was it an invitation? 

I circled to their right, feeling like a lunatic out there in the dead of night, trying to find a random hookup with a stranger. What if this person was a serial killer? What if they thought I was a serial killer? It was all too much. I was sweating through my shirt.

I slowly walked past the bench, pretending to mind my own business. 

“How’s it going?” came a deep, masculine voice. 

I jumped. 

“Hey,” I squeaked out. 

I stopped in my tracks and attempted to get a better look at the guy. He was only twenty feet from me, but his features were obscured by the night. I quickly glanced around but didn’t see anyone else. I felt exposed near the top of the hill. The light from the other side was coming from a warehouse on another property. A quick scan told me that nobody, like perhaps a security guard, was snooping around below.

The man suddenly stood up. I froze, unsure as to what to do. I was prepared for anything, including getting murdered. My heart was now in my throat.

That’s when I noticed his pants were pushed down to his thighs and he was stroking his cock. My brain switched from fight or flight to horny curiosity. After a moment’s hesitation, I approached him.

I could make out a healthy head of hair, but couldn’t determine the color, and I was relieved to see that he looked to be in reasonable shape. His body was lean, which I could tell because the shirt he was wearing was pushed up past his nipples, exposing a flat stomach. His thighs were well developed, and I was close enough now that I could see his member, which was thick and long. Even in the dark I could see that he had a thick patch of black pubic hair. My own cock twitched in excitement. 

Neither of us said anything as I unzipped my pants and took out my cock. I was only partially erect as I slowly began stroking my cock, watching him do the same. I stole a glance at his face, trying to get a better look at him, and saw that he was staring back at me. I quickly looked back down at his cock, swallowing hard, trying to calm my nerves. 

“You have a nice dick,” he said in a thick drawl. 

I swallowed again, my mouth thick with saliva.

“Thanks. You too,” I said.

We were silent, then, each stroking our cocks, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I was hard. My cock wasn’t as big as his, but not many cocks are. He was a solid eight inches. And he was uncut. My mouth watered at the realization. I have a thing for uncut cocks. 

My inhibitions finally dissolved. I wanted this man’s cock in my mouth, so I knelt in the wet grass and took it in my hands. I stroked the shaft and ran my hand over the head of his penis while my other hand cupped his balls. He was unshaved, which made me even hornier. I’m a sucker for hairy cocks. Pun intended.

My pants sagged around my thighs as I knelt in the grass, his member right in front of my face. I hesitantly kissed the tip of his cock, at the same time taking in a breath to make sure that his hygiene was up to par. Thankfully, he smelled good: a natural musk that was pleasant and not overpowering. 

His cock responded to my kiss by pointing straight up at my face, and I took him into my mouth. I was only able to get half of his cock in my mouth before it was too much for me to handle. I’ve never been able to deepthroat, much to my shame, but I make up for it in enthusiasm. I slurped on the portion of his cock I could take into my mouth, using my hand to rub up and down the rest of his shaft while I continued to massage his balls with my other hand. The hair on his balls was smooth like he’d just washed and conditioned them. I grabbed my own cock as I continued to suck on his.

“That feels good, boy,” he moaned. 

I love being called names, and ‘boy’ is one of my favorites. This was working out better than I could have imagined.

That’s when I heard a rustling next to me. I glanced to my right, and, to my shock, there was another cock staring right at me. It had materialized out of the black like some sort of greedy monster come to steal my soul. I shot a quick look upwards and saw a heavy set, bearded man staring gleefully down at me. Without hesitation, I took the first man’s cock out of my mouth and put the second one’s dick down my throat as far as I could take it.

The second guy pushed my head deeper onto his dick and I gagged. I normally don’t like my head pushed down but I was so horny for cock that I welcomed it.

I was able to take all of him in my mouth, his trimmed pubic hairs tickling my nose. He smelled like aftershave, which not as mouth-watering delicious as the other guy’s natural musk but it was fine.

I went back and forth, then, between both cocks, furiously jacking my own in the process. I’d worked up a good amount of spit in my mouth and used it as lube. I felt like I was doing them a good service and was rewarded for my deeds when the second guy suddenly began to breathe heavy. His cock stiffened and I knew he was about to cum. I pulled his cock out of my mouth, held onto the first guy’s cock with a firm grip, and stroked off the second guy as he shot a thick, hot load of cum right onto my face. It spilled down from my forehead and onto my nose and cheek. He grunted, thrust his cock toward my lips, and the last of his ejaculate spurt onto my mouth.

I licked some of it off my lips and wiped off the rest with the back of my hand. And just like that, the second cock withdrew. I heard the man zip his pants up, he gave a quick thanks, and then he disappeared back into the night. I then gave the first guy my undivided attention.

“You made that guy cum quick,” the man said, his voice hoarse and his breathing shallow. I could tell he was getting close as well.

“I’ve got cum all over my face,” I said through a mouthful of cock.

“Let me add to it,” the man said and he pulled his cock out of my mouth and began jacking off.

I pushed my face up to the tip of his head and closed my eyes. Nothing makes me hornier than receiving a facial, and my own cock now, hard as granite, was throbbing in my hand as I felt the first hot splatter of cum shoot onto my face. It hit just above my eyebrow, which I quickly wiped away to avoid it getting into my eye. As the man grunted, the remainder of his cum shot down the side of my nose and stuck to my lips. I licked at it like a dog licks at table scraps. He tasted only slightly salty, but mostly of water, and I was grateful. I love swallowing cum but only in small doses.

I cleaned him up with my tongue, my face sticky with the sex of both men. I cupped his balls one more time, giving them a good squeeze, and then withdrew my hand. As he was zipping up his pants, I came, shooting my load right into the dirt. I let out a soft groan as I did so.

“That feel good?” he asked, patting me on the head.

“Yeah, man,” I said, panting.

I stayed on my knees a moment longer, letting my breathing slow, basking in the afterglow of sex. My cock stayed hard as I got up off the ground and pulled my pants up. I took the napkins I had stuffed in my back pocket out and wiped off my face. The man was still standing next to me as I cleaned up.

“Want to go again?” he asked. 

“Yes,” I said, immediately, and took my pants right back down to my ankles. I bent over the bench. I reached down and grabbed the small sample of lube out of my pocket that I’d brought with me and handed it to him. He popped the top and then lathered his cock up before slipping some onto his fingers. My ass responded, opening for him as he slid in a finger.

“God that feels good,” I whispered.

“You’re so tight,” he said. 

He pushed his finger in and out of me, oiled himself up some more, and then slipped two fingers into me. I gasped as he opened me up. I don’t get laid often, so I’m not used to getting my ass fingered, but I’m an enthusiastic lover and I pushed myself open to him, loving the pressure building up inside me as he moved in and out.

“Fuck me,” I said, panting.

He slipped his fingers out of me and pushed the head of his cock slowly into my asshole. 

“Slowly” I said, putting my hand on his hips and forcing him to take me at a snail’s pace.

After probing my asshole with the head of his penis for a moment, he finally slid the shaft inside. I took all of him in with no pain, and my cock stiffened as his head pushed against my prostate. I clenched the bench with both hands as he slowly pumped his cock inside my tight little ass.

It didn’t take him long to cum again. I could feel his cock stiffen inside me, pounding against my prostate. My own cock was leaking precum all over the bench, and I used it as lube as I stroked myself. The man grunted in my ear, his legs pressed up against my ass. I felt his muscles stiffen and he shoved his cock all the way up me to his hairy balls. I gasped with the pressure of his member inside me. He shot his hot cum up into my ass, and I exploded at the same time, my cum shooting up and onto my stomach from below.

The man slipped out and zipped up his pants, slapping my ass in the process. I rested against the bench before pulling my pants up. When I turned around, the man had disappeared like a wraith. I hurriedly walked back to my car, my ballcap still pulled down tight, head bent down to avoid the gaze of anyone that might be watching.

I jumped into my car and sped off. My first night cruising had been a success.

I couldn’t wait to go again.

About the author:

Jonathan Peters is a writer of erotica, crime and horror fiction. He holds an MFA 2D Studio from the University of New Mexico and a BFA from Texas State University. He is currently seeking agency for his first book, Far Away Girls, a fictional crime noir novel. You can find his most recent work here at Bareback Magazine and at the Bath Flash Fiction Award. He lives in the southwest U.S. with his two cats.