Hondondo Rendezvous

A warm summer midnight breeze wafted over my bare torso caressing my erect nipples as I sauntered through the darkened and seemingly deserted community park nestled beside the bend of Hondondo Creek. My favorite well-worn and ragged 501's hugged my slim hips, rasping against my body in just enough of a sensual manner to augment my hormonally heightened state.

Nothing more than the tattered denims, running shoes and headband adorned my taut body and I experienced a sexual strike of oncoming erogenous expectation as the clinging crotch of my jeans nuzzled my prodigious and anticipatory endowment. Oh, I had slipped on the oversized metal cockring to enhance my proud, party-sized phallus and egg-sized smooth balls before leaving my bungalow, so there was that, too.

The comforting cylinder of the capsular Rush bottle in my front pocket rolled erotically up and down my muscular runner's thigh reminding me of the hoped for coming rapture... The quasi-dangerous effect of the unknown only amplified my tumescent state as I circled the old oak be-studded park, prowling for other similar-minded denizens of the dark this late vernal eve.

I reached up and grasped the recently rolled joint balanced behind my left ear and retrieved the bic lighter from my back pocket, flicking a flame to enlighten my mood even more so by the complementary effect of Bob Marley's iconic friend and confidant. As the aroma emerged from the lit doobie I rounded a corner inhaling the cloying smoke and envisioned a dimly silhouetted picnic table off to the side of the lane tangenting the close-by brook.

The babbling sound of water over river rocks provided a susurrus of background sound almost obscuring a throaty moaning as the nocturnal wind currents eddied around the wooded setting. My senses piqued as I centered on the primal source of the rhythmic plaints arising from the confines of the picnic table just barely discernible through my peripheral night vision. Honing in on the table, I gradually fixated on a locus of intense eroticism rendering an outline of two bodies melded in the ancient exercise of hedonic coupling.

One body was bent over the smooth cement surface of the table with small, round buttcakes arched upward to meet a sizeable glistening protuberance extending from the second body positioned behind the bowed form of the greedy recipient. Both bodies blended with the shadows but as I silently approached the scene while inhaling another pleasurable toke from the joint, the beautiful swarthiness of the duo's forms came more into focus.

The smaller, hooked participant bore the compactness of a bulldog with velvety dark skin enwrapping a sexy torso and extremities punctuated by muscular brevity, the entirety limned in sweat as he inhaled from a lidless bottle of poppers presently raised to a flared nostril. Short-cropped black hair crowned his head and eyeglasses reflected in the intermittent moonlight as puffy night clouds wafted past just above and beyond the rutting pair.

The second figure was the embodiment of Mr. Marley himself: long dreadlocks cascading from his head down his muscular ebony chest and backside, rocking in synchrony with his body movements as athletic buttocks and legs moved in an undulating fashion thereby enabling a truly stunning ten inch blood-engorged member entry into the proffered ass before it.

One hand slowly massaged a pliant buttcheek while the other hand scissored a large blunt to his lips as he inhaled its rich scent, holding it in his lungs whilst continuing the act of slow-fucking the bubblebutt partner of the moment. A lazy cloud cleared the moon at that moment, revealing this wanton act in all of its animalistic glory and I gazed, mesmerized by the carnal scene, just as the sturdy topman cocked his head to notice my infatuation with his perfectly cowled manhood as it retracted momentarily from the well-greased and welcoming asshole.

A lascivious grin informed me that he sanctioned my watchful presence, never missing his stride, only momentarily delaying re-entry to the pleasure hole so as to "proclaim" his pride at my visualizing the pair's present salaciously conjoined state.

He slowly exhaled as he pushed back into the begging cavity. The lucky boy receiving the donga dick succumbed to yet another penetrating stroke into his popper-relaxed butthole, expelling a breath full of high-inducing concoction. With the incoming stroke again stretching his rectal sphincter the slut's head turned sideways away from me and he continued his enjoyment wholly ignorant to my voyeurism.

Not so, the Rastafarian. The stud beckoned me forward through the leering grin, angling his amazingly proportioned body to that which accentuated my view of each and every nuanced gesture displaying the piercing in-and-out intrusion of the high, round, globular masses servicing him. His knowledge of my interest obviously magnified the intensity with which he hit that noticeably bare hole.

My own dick had long since rejoined the scenario, snaking down the leg of my jeans provocatively. He noticed it, also, and reached out to familiarize with the contours. Quickly tiring of the denim obstruction he popped the buttons open and adroitly exposed my throbbing 8 inches, sporting a big, perfectly cut mushroom head. Well aware I was hung, for a white boy, he tacitly acknowledged the fact, pushing my pants down below my ass and gathering my hairless balls in his palm, all the while stroking the unsuspecting sybarite bent before him with that greased pole.

The young man writhed pleasurably on the picnic table, unlaced sockless cross-trainers bumping off the ground with each impalement and he began vocally accessorizing the expanding episode. Dredds Man abruptly spit onto his appendage as it again entered to its total 10 inch length then positioned the fat blunt inwards in his mouth and leaned toward me, offering a power hit as inducement for my further involvement with the two.

I accepted by meeting his lips and sucking slowly on the barely protruding tip, inhaling deeply from the extra-potent delivery of his own tasty creeper weed. We separated after the serious and sensuous lip-locking, holding the precious hit as deep in our lungs as possible.

Again exhaling slowly, he softly complimented my fully engorged manhood through smoke-suffused breath then bounced it with his fingers as he moved back to squeeze my own round buttcheek. My excitement overflowed as he did so, my cock erupting in an unexpectedly volcanic release of cum directly on to his ripped hairless belly, dripping down as he amusedly snickered his surprise.

The boytoy was finally made aware of my presence by the ricochet of baby-laden cream over his derriere. He turned toward me and stiffened in recognition. It was my current romantic interest! A home healthcare nurse of unquestionably libidinous appetites with whom I shared a a steamy, if volatile, quasi-relationship.

Purportedly on a night-long working gig at a geriatric patient's residence, reality indicated he was getting pummeled before my eyes by the truly sexual being fondling me... he reflexively pulled loose from all 10 inches per one fell swoop in astonished consternation. A tantalizing slurping sound ended with a distinctive "splop" upon extracting himself.

Serendipitously, Dredds Man ejaculated long, viscous ropey dollops of pearlescent cum both into and all over the abruptly vacated bubble cheeks, a concomitant uncontrollable masculine grunt evincing the black demi-god's exhilarative release for all of us to see and hear (and feel, in the little nurse's case).

Mild guilt-tinged, irony-laden contentment ensued for the two of us while a thoroughly rattled boy-bitch mutely faced away, squatting on the edge of the picnic sex site bench to grasp and raise his ankle-bound shorts while attempting a modicum of decorum in the current questionable circumstance.

Both Dredds Man and I sardonically observed his discomfiture as we spied large globs of the fuckee's own jism beneath where his sizeable piece had so recently hovered, answering the reason for his vexation... he cast himself, after all, as a consummate "topman". Caught in the fucking act. Busted, ignominiously.

So obviously suffering the mortification of the discovered pleasure his perfidy rendered unto his reputation he quickly vacated the "debasing" scene in the fatuous hope of mentally negating the outing of his secret. Fat chance, I thought, filing the mental video away for future cogitation. As he disappeared into the safety of the darkness we both bemusedly contemplated the present state of things, langourous in post-coital repletion. Guilt be damned. That was good...hell, that was too good. And I hadn't even been actively involved.

We didn't bother cleaning up the sperm-laced evidence too much, simply wiping sticky fingers across exposed skin while unselfconsciously reclining on the picnic bench to gather our wits and partake of the residual blunt, discussing the erogenous happenings of the previous half hour.

Unable to ignore the persistent semi-dilation of his humongous endowment I reached out tentatively and hefted it in my palm, removing my headband to clean off the exudative remnants from it. He acquiesced without withdrawal. Seeing the fullness rise and bloom slightly I stood and dropped my already lowered pants to the ground in front of him pulling them off over my running shoes, leaving me butt-naked and rising to the occasion of such a significant stud relaxing in front of me.

Relighting the remaining roach from my stroll before our encounter I offered him a reciprocate power hit to which he readily acceded. We both held the syrupy smoke for a time then breathed out in tandem. His dick was now standing at handsome attention between his muscled thighs, foreskin sensuously rolling over the proximal half of the pretty head of it. The big, smooth ballsack blossomed beneath in this picture of sensuality and as I watched he slowly spead those long sinuous 'tennis-player' legs, inviting further attention.

I didn't need prompting and took the cue by spreading my jeans on the ground in front of him, thence kneeling down on them to minister to his obviously un-slaked need. Remembering my poppers, I retrieved them, deftly inspiring a deep hit and then handing them up to him.

Rapt attention was then bent toward familiarizing myself with this stud's full-staffed boner, slathering the head in spit and working my way gradually down the phatness until I reached the flaring base. I worked my tongue slowly around the entire circumference of the thing, reveling in its musky firmness as I wallowed in ecstasy, whetting his appetite for some long, slow, deep and masterful head, for which I prided myself.

I was a professional head-man as he soon found out. Coming back up to the spongy head, I engulfed the whole of it abruptly in one long dive until I held the shaft in my mouth and throat, tongue swirling around it. My lips and teeth gently, doggedly, yet carefully bit down on the root of that beautiful dick with pulsating repetition, holding it and my breath as I massaged the beast contentedly via rotating action where his bulbous crown met my throat.

Alternately pulsing the light teeth-clamping technique while enjoying his groans of pleasure I actionably informed him this represented a future repeatable offense. I finally backed off the shaft slowly and teethed on the sensitive head right up to the moment an approaching climax forced him to slap my head to cease the action a bit that he might back off from a premature second cumming.

My own nice whiteboy dick patiently treaded time in a rapt state of engrossment between my own well-muscled legs, bent at the knees as I remained ensconced before the magnificent piece eyeing me when I took the time to release it from my mouth for visual perusal. I loved the way it throbbed at my face as it anticipated my lips, lightly bouncing off my nose and cheeks.

Obviously not desiring interruption of my raptness, Dredds Man took to feeding me hits of poppers in between his own partakings thereby allowing for perpetuation of both our pleasures- I was enjoying sucking this huge dick as much and more than he was enjoying the reception. The man definitely liked good head... we neither one noticed as two or three other people happened upon our picnic table interlude, respectfully keeping their distance but nevertheless enjoying our uninhibited show.

Beginning a slow, deep rhythmic stroking after a triple popper hit, I set to satisfying the both of our appetites with abandon, going up-and-down from root to tip while my tongue massaged the tubal protuberance beneath the shaft until both of us nearly lost it and came before we desired the episode be over.

Abruptly ceasing all motion on that elastic shaft as both our dicks throbbed their pleasure in unison I willed the eruptions back down to a controllable level at which point I began the motion all over again. Amazingly, this action went on for a good twenty minutes. I finally couldn't deny either of our crescendos any longer so kept the luxurious rhythm going past the point of retreat as first he ejaculated, scorching cum juice all into my expectant mouth and throat, then my own dick reached the top of that pleasure peak, releasing of its own accord, dumping my second load all over those worn jeans I loved to wear when horny.

Not allowing that pretty dick out of my mouth, I swallowed and let his guttural remonstrances and climactic pelvic thrusts subside while my own dick just suspended in an ethereal cocoon of tingling sensation. During this recovery time, still impaled on the most beautiful dick I had ever experienced, Dredds Man suddenly muttered through his euphoria-induced haze, "Dude, we are so busted". Unmoving, he continued the post-eruption quivering but I sensed a new tenseness not present until now.

Finally coming up for a breath of fresh air after a seeming eternity in dick-filled oral nirvana I took quick stock of our surroundings, noticing for the first time the company that had surrounded us. Two shirtless younger guys with dicks-in-hand and pants at knee level were on the periphery of our moonlit creekside clearing. While startling enough it was not cause for consternation, so looking up at the Dredds Man I glanced in the direction of his gaze and quickly surmised the source of his concern.

There, just out of sight of our two voyeurs stood a cop. Legs planted, hands on hips, handcuffs on his belt alongside a noticeable holstered Taser...hard eyes silently viewed our situation. We existed there, hedonistically unclothed, pot-smoke infusing the air, redolent popper aroma evident, quavering dick next to mouth with connecting streams of cum evoking innuendo only explainable one way- all probably soon to be described in front of a judge, no doubt.

My dick proudly arching over my flat stomach as I leaned backwards in bent-knee pose, sperm-drenched chin, sated centaur before me and still in thrall to the linger of tingling just savored, I totally lent credence to a mythic satyr caught in the act. All that was lacking was a streaming video.

Both of the obsessed jack-baiters followed our looks, grasped the gravity of the odious offense and raced off into the gloom of trees away from us. We two were stunned enough to find neither the wherewithal nor justification for moving, viewing our predicament as a dead end.

The night officer had left his cruiser a fair way away with the obvious objective of surprising nightime miscreants. The ploy had met with success. He slowly and deliberately straightened, thence set a measured gait in his approach to our 'lair'. A smirk of derision suffused his countenance as he closed upon us, one hand over the cuffs.

His words began as a remonstration for the magnitude of our misdeeds and through our once sought-after state of buzz, we reckoned with the scene he was beholding. Multiple offenses amounting to a long list for the attainment of atonement. Not to mention the shame of besmirched records and various after effects. As Dredds Man had said, "dude, are we sooo busted".

Removing his deputy's cowboy-style hat, he sidled up to us and took transparent note of the ardours and odors of the sexualized "eau de euphoria" enveloping the site. He spoke out loud enough to make himself heard over a distance, admonishing the vacating voyeurs to make good their exit or face a fate of legal purgatory.

While he enunciated it, I registered his physicality. Slimly tall with caramel skin, clean-shaven visage and head, hairless forearms of well-muscled proportions. Minimally, a size 12 shoe. I couldn't believe this was what I was focusing upon under the dire circumstances. But it was difficult to avoid noticing the rugged virility especially in my mental fogginess.

Then is when I noted the distinctly prominent bulge in the crotch of his well-creased trousers. He addressed Dredds Man first, making note of the state of arousal persistent in the stud's nether regions- and on full display for whoever happened to be gawking. In this case: the Law. The still-dripping string of sperm from the partially prepuced head staged everything for what it certainly was.

My head spinning, I thought I heard him order me to the floor...the floor? It was outdoors, well past midnight and my grunge jeans lay stretched out beneath my bent knees, bare-assed position within close proximity to the prettiest cock I had ever had the privilege to make come. What a way to end it, I thought.

Bizarrely, I sensed that Dredds Man had again lounged back against the picnic table in his seated, still spread-legged position on the bench where he had just delivered cum into my ready mouth just scant minutes before. Did I detect a stoic resignation to our dual fates of jailtime with hard labor? He further surprised me by reaching into his sweatpants pocket which still lay bunched from when he removed them for the earlier bitch-boy action, withdrawing a sequestered behemoth of an unsmoked joint from inside.

The deputy repeated his comment and I now translated his previously misunderstood command of "get on the floor" to, "we goin' for four"... Dredds Man had figured it out first: we were going to service this officer as a method of redemption subsequent to the deputy's astute evidence-gathering proclivity after studious vigilance of my meticulous ministrations over that big ole' black dick.

Proof of my abilities had not been lost on the aroused lawman what with all the visible symptoms. The man was wanting some of his own, now. He raised his huge hand to the bulge tenting that uniformed crotch, slowly unzipped the fly and managed to loosen up the briefs underneath enough to allow for the escape of the second most beautiful black dick I had ever sighted this close up. That pendulous thing waggled its way over to us, balls abumping, as I felt a familiar tugging in my groin.

My alabaster piece again felt the anatomical machinations presaging yet another event in this already eventful night. In less than an hour and a half, I had stumbled upon my erstwhile topman-cum-boyfriend taking bare dick all up in his ass until it lewdly miscarried him a load, thence furthered my felonious fantasy by Snoop-dogg toking with that same ultra-hot black dreadlocked stallion and slow-sucking his monster dick until he came with three people watching while I did it. Unabashedly.

Now it seemed I would get to suck yet another over-sized cock under the purview of a law enforcement badge...freedom and liberty on the line. Un-fucking-believable.

Throbbing abounded. Dredds Man stood up, scrutinizing the deputy shed first his trousers and then his briefs, folding the former carefully on the back side bench of the table next to those size 12's and Dredd's sweatpants. He allowed the deputy to sit his fine, bare, tightly rounded caramel butt on the recently vacated position the Rastafarian himself had inhabited. The man spread his totally smooth fleshed-out legs in an explicitly plain summons for what he expected.