He spotted the guy on the bench near the back path of the park, legs spread wide, one hand rubbing slow over the bulge in his jeans. It was past midnight and the place was dead quiet except for the distant hum of traffic. No one else around. The guy looked up as I walked closer, eyes locked on mine, and he gave his crotch a squeeze like he was already hard and ready.
I stopped a few feet away. "You cruising?" I asked, voice low.
He nodded once. "Yeah. You got a place or we doing it here?"
"Here," I said. I stepped right up to him and he reached out, unzipping me without another word. My cock was already stiff. He pulled it out and leaned forward, mouth open, tongue flat as he licked from balls to head in one long stroke. Then he took me deep, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing. Spit ran down my shaft and dripped onto the ground. I grabbed the back of his head and started fucking his throat, short thrusts so he could take it all.
A car drove past on the road beyond the trees, headlights sweeping over us for a second. He didn't stop. If anything he sucked harder, one hand working his own jeans open so he could stroke his cock while he blew me. I pulled out after a minute, cock shiny with spit. "Turn around," I told him.
He stood, shoved his jeans down to his knees and bent over the bench. Ass up, pale in the low light from the distant streetlamp. I spit on my fingers and pushed two into his hole. He was tight but opened quick, pushing back on my hand. "Fuck me," he said, raw and direct. "Don't tease."
I lined up and shoved in. One hard thrust and I was balls deep. He grunted loud, the sound carrying in the quiet park. I started pounding him right there, hips slapping against his ass, the bench creaking under us. Every thrust made a wet sound because he was slick with spit and precum. He reached down and jerked his own cock fast, matching my rhythm.
Voices drifted from the path maybe fifty yards away, two guys walking their dogs or something. We both froze for a second, my cock buried to the hilt in his ass. The voices got closer then faded. The risk made my dick throb harder. I started fucking him again, faster now, gripping his hips so tight my fingers left marks. He pushed back, taking every inch, whispering "Yeah, breed that hole" under his breath.
I pulled out, spun him around and pushed him to his knees again. He sucked me clean, tasting his own ass on my cock. Then I hauled him up, bent him over the back of the bench this time and slammed back in. Different angle, deeper. He moaned like a whore, one leg up on the seat so I could get in even further. I reached around and stroked him while I fucked, feeling his hole clench every time I hit the right spot.
Another set of footsteps. Someone coming down the path. We kept going. I didn't slow down. The guy on the bench just dropped his head and took it, ass pushing back to meet every thrust. Whoever it was walked past without stopping, probably saw us, probably kept walking because this park had that reputation. The thrill shot through me. I fucked harder, balls slapping, sweat running down my back even though the night was cool.
He came first, shooting ropes across the bench seat while I drilled him. His ass clamped down so tight I almost lost it. I pulled out at the last second, spun him, and shot all over his face and open mouth. Thick spurts. He licked his lips, swallowed what he could, then sucked the last drops from my cockhead.
We stood there breathing hard for a minute. He wiped his face on his shirt, pulled his jeans up. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked.
"Maybe," I said. I tucked myself away and walked off down the path, the taste of risk still sharp in my mouth. The park stayed quiet behind me.
