Excerpt for The Cruising Chronicles: Threeway Runner by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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The Cruising Chronicles: Threeway Runner

Copyright 2018 Harry F. Rey

Published by Harry F. Rey at Smashwords

I’d been sitting in the park for about 20 minutes, an overgrown tree giving some shade to the bench for me, the watcher. Two guys had already walked into the toilets, one didn’t look too bad, but I stayed where I was. Might have been the mother and pram walking past, then stopping, as if she was waiting to see if I was really a runner taking a break; or a cock hungry slut waiting for a fill.

My shaded park bench sat just at the corner of the car park. To keep up appearances, I jumped up from the bench, ran on the spot for a few seconds and stretched out my calf muscles. I re-tied my trainers, adjusted my shorts and lifted my sunglasses up and down. I lifted my tank top and wiped a few non-existent beads of sweat off my forehead, exposing the hard-won abs under my shirt so anyone who would care to notice would see me as nothing more than part of the park’s furniture.

I began a light jog along away from the toilets and car park. I could run along the path for a couple of minutes, around the wooded bend and be safely out of view, then do an about turn and run back and be in full view of the cruising zone for a good few minutes before I might arise any suspicion. My dick pricked up at the thought, the anticipation of what could come. It would be a full boner in not too long. I just couldn’t get my mind off the future fucking that I was dying for and hoping against hope I would get.

As I ran along the path my naturally smooth ass cheeks gilded easily against each other thanks to the lube I had pre-loaded inside earlier. But it was the feel of my bare butt skin rubbing against the material of the running shorts that really got me going. The jockstrap I wore is well used for sport, but now it’s my lucky charm. I wear it when I’m going to get my ass filled. The years made the once white material grey and spongy from sweat, but the stains of lube and cum from nameless men is something rather new for me. My wife thinks it’s cute that I have lucky underwear that I sometimes wear for running, I smile because I know when I wear them, I get lucky.

I got too lost in my own thoughts and had ran on too far, so I did a quick about turn beside an oak tree and picked up some speed. By the time I reached the toilets again I had broken a sweat, and decided I’d had enough of waiting and headed on in. There’s only so much anticipation anyone can take. I just had to bite the bullet. My heart did a little jump into my throat, my stomach did a little summersault, my balls felt heavy and my dick pushed against the jockstrap, yearning to be free.

It’s always the smell that hits me first, before I’ve even turned the corner from the entrance way. Sure, there’s the stink of the piss stained tiles and urinal water, but when a toilet is also a cruising zone, there’s that little bit more to it, and it drives me mad. Smell a little deeper, let your tongue taste that little bit more, and feel the blood rush straight to your dick. There’s the scent of gobs of spit fallen from the mouths of cock suckers, stale man sweat from a furious fuck in a stall; all underlaid with that intoxicating smell of shot spunk.

There’s something else I experience as I step into the open restroom, much more than one of my senses; the overwhelming feeling of desire.

There’s a couple of chipped sinks by the door, a series of cubicles along one side and a long, rusty urinal trough opposite it. I didn’t know if anyone else would have been in, but I’m in luck. One early thirties man stands at the farthest end of the urinal all in black, t-shirt and pants, short hair and sunglasses. His dick is out, but he isn’t taking a piss. He sees me, but I keep my intentions hidden for now by standing over the sink and staring into the dirty mirror. My tank top shows off my upper body strength, but not my abs, and I want this guy to see what I’ve got. I walk half towards the urinal, but deliberately stop and wipe the now real sweat from my forehead with my tank top, and he helps himself to a good look at my chiseled torso. Done, I have him.

I walk forward, partly towards him and partly towards the furthest cubicle. He turns towards me, holding and shaking his now hard dick. It’s pretty impressive, standing straight out, a good eight inches at least with a thick layer of foreskin that he strokes against the rounded head. He digs his hand in to his trousers and pulls out his balls too, covered in coarse black hair and hanging low. I’m desperate to feel them slapping against my thighs as he plows into me, so head straight to the last cubicle, still staring at his junk on display.

He follows me in but keeps the door wide open and I feel his hands run up the back of my bare thighs, past my shorts and then pinging my jockstrap against my ass, before cupping my cheeks. I feel goosebumps prick all over my body at his touch. My hands are pressed onto the cool tiles and my head staring straight down to the toilet, eyes closed, ready for what is to come. I arch my back and push my ass against his rock-solid dick, and its warmth pulses through me, making my hole twitch in anticipation.

His cock pushes against the entryway for his pleasure through my shorts, harder and harder till his cock head is practically thrust inside me, and his hands run up my back under my top and back towards my ass again, this time yanking my shorts right down to my knees and exposing my bare, lubed up hole. His breathing becomes heavy and I feel the head of his dick longingly pushing to where it is dying to be. He is careful not to let it slide in though, just tease it and get it wet with the lube. I have to let out a moan though when he slaps its weight against my crack. After some rustling, I hear him snap a condom onto his thick, meaty knob.

But before I know what’s happening I let out a loud clenching groan and slap my hands against the tiles. He’s pushed the entire length of his dick straight up inside me, all the way to the hilt, and I hear the unbelievably satisfying slap of his hairy low balls knocking against me, his wiry pubes scratching against my ass cheek. I throw my hand back behind me quick as I can and grab onto his pants, still buttoned up, and keep him steady and fully inside me and give my ass a chance to adapt. Pure naked desire overwhelms any feeling of pain. I’ve been penetrated; and I love it.

He lets a heavy breath out and I get the manly scent of beer and cigarettes from him. Despite my hand grabbing him close to me, he slowly draws his long dick back out till barely the head is left in. One hand of his clamps my mouth closed whilst the other grabs my stomach as he slams the full length of it back inside me. Only a muffled moan escapes from my clasped lips, but he’d anticipated me practically collapsing to my knees from the shock as he holds my limping body up. He pulls it back out again, quicker this time and all the way out, but I have barely a half second of respite before his cock is buried deep in my hole again.

I moan again, but it’s no good. I’m his, just a hole he is fucking to get his load out. I let myself go and drink in the pure feeling of being used. He still holds me, one hand finding my hard nipple to flick, the other with a powerful grip of my jaw. His dick moves into a good rhythm, pulling half way out in one motion, hesitating for not even a second, before slamming it straight back into insides and his balls swinging towards me, every time hitting a little harder against my thighs.

It feels tough and hard, like it’s grating against my insides. I have to work for this. I think about trying to ask him to work some spit on there, but the more it drags and fights its way inside me, the more I realize I love the friction. I hear a splash below me, and I realize sweat is dripping from my forehead, down my nose and into the open toilet pan below.

I feel my dick through my jockstrap, it could not be harder, and there is a definite wet patch of precum that’s seeping out as I take the pounding. I push my hand down further to my hole and feel his dick brush by my fingers as it pushes in and out of me. I circle my fingers round the hairy base of his dick, and gently bring them forward up his shaft, touching the rubber ring of the condom. I know he is getting close, his fuck strokes are getting quicker, his pauses less and slowly more and more of his eight-inch cock stays inside me every time. I think about it for a second, what it would be like if I just said fuck it, take the rubber off, what it would like to have it bare and raw, to have his seed spill deep inside me…

“Fuck man, you gunna do it?”

My head snaps round. Two guys, young guys, no more than twenty or so stand near the open doorway of the cubicle. They’re dressed as if they’ve been chilling in the park with friends, casual in shorts and t-shirts on this warm day. My fucker seems to have already noticed them walk in talking, and now standing watching, but he just keeps fucking me.

I hear them laughing with each other, nervous laughter. Undercut with sexual tension and the flash of raw desire. But what they say is lost over the deep throaty grunts from my fucker. Both of his hands are hard on my back, my face is pushing against the back of the toilet. I look back round again quickly, both are closer, both staring, both with their hands down their shorts.

The guy inside me reaches his climax, his nails dig deep into my back, grabbing whatever flesh he can, as his dick slams and pulses against my body one last time. His moan is deep and long, a howl almost, and I howl with him. One last slam and then still. He leaves it in there, moaning with a couple more mini strokes of his dick inside me before it gets rapidly softer. He pulls out and I hear the condom snap off his dick and splat onto the tiles below me. I stay in my position, head on the back of the toilet, back out flat, shorts around my ankles now and bare ass spread out, and I hear my fucker speak for the first time, not to me though, to the guys watching:

It’s all yours, bud.”

I just wait for a second, then the cubicle door closes and locks. I open my eyes and look below through my spread-out legs; two sets of feet, one in flip flops the other in grey cotton shoes, ankle socks and Nikes. I hear unzipping, and the one in flip flops drops his shorts and underwear to the ground in one quick motion, and I hear the other one say to him quietly:

Just shove it straight in, quick, blow and go man, c’mon.” I hear him jerk his dick and he says back to his friend:

“Yeh man, just between us remember. Say nothing.”

I stop myself from turning around to look, but just then I feel spit splashing onto my crack and dribbling down my hole. The head of this guy’s cock sits poised against me, and another gob of spit splashes onto it. Slowly but firmly, he pushes it into my body, gets it inside and it slides in nice and easy. It’s smaller than the last one thankfully, and I immediately relax and begin to enjoy the sensation. Still a nice size dick, a good thick six incher.

He fucks me frantic, like a man who knows he only has minutes to cum. His hands only lightly placed on my hips, as if touching me might make it too real. His dick slips and slams in and out of me, but I love the sensation. His breathing is heavy, and I take a quick peek round and see his friend watching intently, his own cock is out and he’s stroking it, the other hand on his friend’s shoulder while my second fucker stares straight down at what he’s doing.

“How’s it feel man?” His friend asks him.

Fuck, fuckin’ amazing. Warm and wet and tight. You’re right, better than any pussy.”

I push my ass out further towards him, I want to get as much of it inside me as I can, and as he draws out a bit I clench my ass muscles around his knob. I hear him moan harder.

Aww fuck.”

Yeah man, dump your load right inside his ass man, get it all in that fucker.”

I feel expansion inside me; the walls of my ass are getting splattered with this young guy’s jizz and it fills up my hole. I savor the feeling, it came so quick though I barely had a chance to realize what just happened. A guy has shot his cum, his spunk deep inside my hole, in my body. I’m his receptacle, his vehicle of pleasure. I hear him moan again as he pulls out and straight away I feel spunk drip out of my hole and down my leg. The aching feeling of satisfaction cuts through my body like an electric shock. Yes, the first man did it too, but now without a barrier, with only skin onto skin, it just feels more real.

I hear shuffling behind me and the other guy places a hand flat on my back, draws it down me and yanks hard on my jockstrap. He traces a finger down my wet crack and touches my cum-filled hole. His finger teases around it, gathering up his friend’s semen and pushing it back inside. He grabs a fistful of my ass cheek and he shoves his own cock in. Less thick, but a bit longer. His breathing is heavy and hard too, and he fucks me rough, just like his friend. Getting it all in with the overwhelming desire to finish quick.

I touch my own dick again through the jockstrap material now soaking from lube, spit, cum and precum. It’s even harder now, if that was possible. The young lad behind me puts his whole body into fucking the hell out of me. He is slamming my cunt full force, but thanks to that first monster cock prying me open I can take it with ease.

It doesn’t take him long though. Soon I hear him moan “Yeah” and actually feel a shot of spunk hit the wall of my ass hard. More follows, his dick keeps shooting in me. Rather than just feeling the expansion as cum flows into me like the last guy, this time I feel every shot of hot young jizz come from his dick and slam into my insides.

He quickly pulls out, gives it a shake, shoves it straight in again and gives another few strokes to me. The cum of him and his friend swirl around inside my ass, and I try to notice every feeling and every detail so I can remember this moment for a long, long time.

C’mon then, let’s get the fuck out of here.” I hear zips being pulled up and the cubicle door opening, then slamming shut. Their voices fade as the walk out of the bathroom. No one would know they weren’t just too friends, gone for a piss. No one will know what we’ve done in here.

I stay spread eagled over the toilet. I can’t quite believe what happened. I knew I wanted to get fucked today, but it’s real now. The acts have been committed, there is no choice left, only memory. I’m left with that indescribable just-fucked feeling, I feel used, abused, sore, sweaty, and now, full of two guys’ cum, and I love it.

I look down at the tiles below me and see the used condom lying there. Feeling I should get rid of it, I bend down and pick it up. I grab some toilet paper to hide it in, but I take a longer look at it. Holding it by the rubber rim, there should have been a deposit of cum filling the bottom. Instead it’s just open. There had obviously been a large tear, and the top end of the rubber had rolled back on the first guy’s cock whilst I was being fucked. I throw it in the toilet bowl and feel my hole with a finger. Wet and slimy, from the cum of not two men, but three. I give myself a mental pat on the back, like I’ve just found some money in an old pair of jeans.

I grab my own dick, thinking about whether to beat off, but then I think about my wife. She’s working late tonight, I would have plenty of time to come out for another run later on around dusk. Maybe I’ll get fucked by a businessman on his way home, or a laborer, or a student. I’ll leave the cum inside my ass for then, and keep my own load for the fourth, fifth or maybe sixth guy that fucks me in the ass today.

I step out of the toilets back into the sun, flicking my sunglasses back down and taking in the smattering of people still around me. They don’t offer another look. To them, I’m just some other guy out for a run. They've no idea what I’ve just done. No one would ever guess what I have inside me, or that I just had my very first threesome. I don’t count myself, of course. I’m just the hole for them to fuck.

I have to chew my lip to keep from bursting into a smile. My legs pick up the pace and I get back onto the path, out of sight of the toilets, my ass moving in that post-fuck way, cheeks sliding against themselves like a freshly-oiled machine. I could so easily do this again. I could do it all day.

As I pick up the pace, my mind runs away from me. How through all those wasted years of my marriage, all the years of my life, I’d kept my true self so hidden. Never once touching another man, never once even trying. Every single time someone kept out their cock too long in a department store toilet or airport bathroom, I barely even took a second glance. I had a loving wife, we were getting ready for a family, or so I thought. I lived the lie, as successfully as anyone else, I know that much. Then, on that day barely six weeks ago, to come home from my run, to find her in our bed, with my friend. Not hers, mine. She’d always said she didn’t like him, but clearly that hadn't been true.

I pounded the pathway, feeling that anger coarse through my body, the resentment rise up in me like bile once more. The things she’d done. The things I’d never did. I haven’t touched her since that night, since I saw them together. Since I turned back around and ran away, ran back to the park, to the toilets I’d always passed, but had never entered. I thought back to that first late spring afternoon, that first cock, that first load. The awakening. For years the source of my secret shame had now become the light of my salvation. Today was one more step along that road.

I stopped dead in the middle of the path, my hands resting on my pumping thighs as I tried to catch my breath. The smack of footsteps kissing the ground echoed around the leafy foliage and I looked up to see a young man running towards me in simple shorts and an old torn t-shirt. His floppy blond hair flicked across his face as he ran. An amateur, but the contours of his calf muscles showed he had promise, and power. As I caught my breath back, a bubble of cum involuntarily ejected itself from my hole and began to trace a line down my leg. The runner's eyes met mine. They kept my gaze, and they didn’t let go.

Towards me, he ran. Getting closer as my heart pounded in my chest. He approached the convex of our connection, yet our eyes did not part. With a gust of unexpected air, he bolted past, and I stood and turned my head. He did too. For as long as he could at his pace without the threat of falling over, he looked at me. Then snapped his eyes back to the road. I swear in that moment I read his mind. He and I were one. The energy we put out into the world connected at some atomic level, recognizing and amplifying each other. I turned and ran back after him while my dick gave an approving throb. I might as well continue on this journey, after all, we’re just two runners with one thing on their mind.


Harry F. Rey is an author and lover of gay themed stories with a powerful punch. New M/M sci-fi and contemporary romance novels coming in July 2018 from NineStar Press and Deep Desires Press.

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