Don't know when you'll be reading this story but I've just had a horny weekend in London. Made quite a change from my closeted life on the Isle of Wight. I mean, Ryde is a nice healthy place to be but as you might remember from my other stories I have a kind of penchant for dark alleys and narrow passageways. And of course public toilets. And there's a much wider variety of all those in London. In fact there's a much wider variety of everything. Pubs for example. If you come to England make sure your first stop is a pub. Especially at lunchtime. The food's better and cheaper and it's the perfect place to meet people. Naturally, there are plenty of gay bars but I prefer to go where I can 'merge with the splurge.' Meet the genuine article. Guys who are guys. Those who screw girls but like other guys on the side. It's a whole different road show.

I'm a bit of a loner myself and tend to avoid groups and gay ghettos. I'm much happier wandering down some shady street in search of adventure. Or cruising a park after dark. Of course, this can often be dangerous but I'm quite wiry and can look after myself. Anyway I've been pretty lucky so far. I've developed a kind of technique. I go into a pub, have a few beers and look around for a little eye contact. Once I've established that, I follow it wherever it goes. Or make sure it follows me.

My first evening I was following this guy who had given me a few glowering looks. I wasn't sure if they were come-ons or ''don't fuck with me'' messages. Either way they excited me and aroused my interest. And of course my dick. He was the most desirable piece of rough I had ever seen. Outside of ''Fight Club'' that is. He had a tight hard body and an aggressive male sexiness about him. He also had a habit of slipping a hand up the inside of his t-shirt revealing your classic washboard stomach and a fine line of hair, which lost itself in the top of his jeans. Something I immediately wanted to do too. His jeans were skintight and temptingly traced the outline of something I could see showed a lot of potential. I also liked the way he drank out of his beer mug and wiped the foam off his lips with the back of his hand. In fact his body language spoke to me loud and clear. I was ready for all the intensive courses he could give me.

He appeared to be with a group of friends but left the pub alone. I didn't want to seem too obvious so gave him a few seconds head start. At first I thought he might be waiting for me outside the pub but there was no one there. I wanted to kick myself for letting him get away. Then I saw the light from his cigarette just a few yards down the street. He was standing in a doorway admiring something in the shop window. Or was he just waiting for me?

As soon as he started walking again, I kept a discreet distance but made sure I didn't lose sight of him a second time. I couldn't help noticing what a great butt he had. He turned a corner. So did I. And almost fell over him. He was standing leaning against a tree. It was one of those expensive mews streets where the gentry used to keep their horses. It was narrow and in semi-darkness. Nobody else was around. He looked so fucking sexy in the half-light.

"Are you stalking me?" he said.

"No... Yes." I stuttered fascinated by the bulge in his trousers.

"So you like rough trade with big dicks," he said, rubbing his ass against the tree.

"Yes, I do. As long as they're not too rough."

"How do you know I have a big dick?"

"Haven't you?" I asked naively.

"Mine to know and yours to find out."

"How do I do that?"

"Just follow me a little further and I'll show you."

I must say I was more than a little nervous by now. It was like a scene out of some spooky movie. I hoped the title wouldn't turn out to be "The Spider and the Fly.'' Still I followed him down two or three dark lanes to a converted garage where he hung out. It was street level and he didn't turn on the lights. Just took out his dick and offered it to me. The street lamp outside gave it an eerie glow. It was big. Much larger than average. And one look at it told me it was mean. He didn't waste much time with formalities but indicated for me to go down on him. I went. He thrust it between my trembling lips and my mouth was soon sore with the raw meat of him. It wasn't tender meat either but harder than a ramrod, which is how it felt when he shoved it up me. Thank God I'd made it plenty wet.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he said. "Are you sure you can take it all? You'd better tell me right now because I don't stop once I get started."

"I can take it all," I said, lying to myself.

I was soon suspended between two sounds and two sensations. "Ow!" and "Wow!" He was long and he was strong. It hurt like hell and his rock hard pole did not exactly make me a happy camper. Not, that is, until my trial by fire began to give me pleasure.

"You all right?" he said as my ows became more pronounced than my wows.

"Yes," I said, "I told you I could take it all."

"You haven't got it all ...yet."

He took my breath away as he pushed more and more of his dick into me until I feared it was going to reach my stomach. In fact I felt like my very guts were being torn apart and I prayed it would stop. Eventually it did. But not before my butt and my head felt like they were going to explode. What's more, my ears were ringing more intensely than after my first transatlantic flight. My mouth was dry and my dick was wet. For a moment there was silence between us. Then he made one tremendous lunge and shattered my sphincter. I broke the sound barrier and pierced the air with my screams.

"Now it's all yours!" he said triumphantly. "You've earned it. Just relax and enjoy it."

Easier said than done. It was hard going at first but soon my wows began to overtake and overwhelm my ows. He built up a steady rhythm, which increased in intensity, and with each wondrous thrust of his gut buster he opened me more and more making me feel things I had never thought possible. I wept. But this time with pleasure. From the way he fucked me I began to understand that he was getting just as many wows as he was giving. If not more. He told me wonderful things about my ass and how he was feeling inside me and finally made me so horny that I fucked back and brought him to such an orgasm that I felt certain I would soon be feeling his jizz cumming out of my mouth. At the end of it all, we were gushing and flushing our fucking love juice like a hydra-headed fountain. Naturally I couldn't wait to start all over again and was hopelessly devoted to his dick long before the night was over. Saturday slipped happily into Sunday and he slipped 'slappily' in and out of my ass to our mutual content.

We used each other's bodies as sounding boards and were able to give each other forty-eight hours of sheer fucking pleasure. But he drew the line at me fucking him. It wasn't his scene he said. And I didn't want to spoil everything by pushing too hard. If you get my drift. Everything in its own good time is my motto. After all Rome wasn't built in a day. I remember those distant dickhead days when I used to pride myself on the fact that I'd never taken it up the ass. But I learned to know better. I'm sure he will too.

I don't know how my backstreet boy will fit into life on the beautiful Isle of Wight but he's promised to 'cum' soon on a sort of exchange visit and I'm really looking forward to it. I mean, once he's away from his home ground I might be able to home in and talk him round. Even turn him round. As I said at the beginning of this story I have a penchant for dark alleys and narrow passageways. I also have a very generous nature. And a very generous dick. And I want to give him just as good as I got. In fact I can't wait to get stuck in so to speak. After all when in Rome you do as the Romans do. And I really would like to spend some horny time roaming up that unexplored back passage of his. Just have to find the right road map that's all.

I'll keep you posted.