Thursday 11 December 2008

Diary Of A Bitts Park Cottager

Twenty minutes ago I was warm and comfortable lying on my bed watching “Fuck off, I’m ginger” on BBC 3. And now, here i am walking past the castle, on my way to the park, i've been here dozens of times before, yet i still have the same restless anticipation that i had the first time i visited. I’m now nearing my thirties, but my first visit was when i was thirteen. Nothing has changed. Except that it is a lot quieter than it used to be.

I turn the corner leading to the car park; I can hear the drunkards from TC’S and the traffic from Hardwick circus. Once again the doubt creeps in, “what if I get caught, or murdered” yet still my feet take me forwards, into the dark.

It’s a like a drug coming here, never knowing who’s lurking in the dark, every sense is sharpened you hear and see things that you know aren’t there. The very thought that within the next few minutes you will be getting fucked by a perfect stranger is the one thing that drives you on. The buzz is unbelievable.

If it’s a busy weekend you can see the silhouettes moving among the trees, I’m walking along the track now, past the big house and the tennis courts, it’s a warm evening, although now its probably more like early morning. There were cars parked in the car park so I know there are men here, I have been enough times to recognise the park keepers car.

I can barley contain my excitement now. Its going to be at least a minute before my eyes adjust to the pitch blackness, the vague suggestion of streetlights from Stanwix and the main road do very little to illuminate the void.

I can see them now, at least three men, in the distance. They are walking aimlessly to and fro, the ritualistic gesture of gaining interest in one another.

You see it works like this. If you want to tell if a man is interested in you, walk away from him, he will follow, and if he does lead him to a secluded area and he’s yours.

This form of control is hard to master and even harder to regulate, as the power often shifts during the sex. I am a devout “bottom” meaning that if I were in a “man-woman” relationship, I would be the woman, although I seem to find it easier to initiate sex with men in public places then they do with myself.

The best thing about sex in parks or “cruising” is that it is almost entirely indiscriminate, you could be obese, unclean, middle aged, but still you WILL find sex, because it is not about the person, it’s about the moment. The sex and the rush. I must say that I am actually interested in older men. And I find them in abundance while cruising, sometimes fucking as many as six at once. It’s my heroin, my Achilles heel, it makes me feel so much more than I am usually capable of feeling, knowing that all of these men want me, when I usually have terrible luck with guys.

Instigating sex can be an awkward affair. The best way to do it is basically just get your cock out and start wanking. The usual sex that follows within this environment is your standard handjob, and maybe the odd blowjob. But fucking, rimming and all kinds of group sex go on in these places, and once you’ve shot your load you just zip up and leave without a word, In most cases right back to your wife and kids.

It’s a very sordid affair and it can be very degrading. But at the same time It’s liberating. The whole disconnected aspect is very appealing, anonymous sex, you can be who you like or you can be no one at all. I see these men in town with their wives/girlfriends, in the pub, or even at work. But we do not acknowledge one another, discretion is key, we don’t fancy each other, most of these guys would much rather fuck your page three girls, but they know that they can fuck you in the arse and shoot their load in your mouth if they visit the park. All for no fee and no consequences.

So on I walk through the park, it’s a very generic affair I see a guy and I lead him down to the side of the tennis courts, he does not speak, none of them do. He gets his cock out and down I go. Sucking away, slowly and deliberately the only time he speaks is when he asks me to turn around and without warning, pulls my jeans down and forces his cock up my arse. Its all over within moments and all I know about it is when I hear him zip up and walk away. I decide to stay a while in the park and see If I can “have” anybody else, but after half an hour of walking back and forth from the car park to the bridge, I decide that enough is enough. So I head home.

TC’s is closed now and there is very little traffic. I forgot to bring my mp3 player so I can’t listen to any tunes. It’s a very quiet walk home, and every time I walk this walk I always feel the same sadness and the same small feeling of shame. But not because of what I do or where I do it, I still don’t know why but I’ll keep on visiting and maybe one day i will find out. After all there’s always tomorrow.

By Anonymous

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