Strolling through the park was something I did every day. Sometimes I met a guy and we had a nice conversation and went our own ways. But sometimes I'd meet someone who was interested in more than conversation and I'd invite him up to my furnished apartment where I'd suck his dick and eat his ass and shoot my load on his sneakers. The guy, whoever he was, had to be wearing sneakers. It's a thing I have and I ain't exactly sure why except that I can't get excited if the guy isn't wearing them.

So, one day not long ago I am walkin' through the park and I see this gang of young Latinos sittin' around in the grass and talking. I think they were sharing a joint but I can't be sure. My eyes ain't so good and I don't want to wear glasses because they make me look like an asshole. I'm forty years old and although I think I look damn good for my age, I don't want to look like no professor with glasses on. I wear jeans and sleeveless shirts and I got a hairy chest and a big dick so some younger guys are attracted to me. Oh, and I never wear sneakers...just big work shoes. Sneakers are for the young guys.

Anyway, back to my story. These punk-lookin' 'ricans are sitting around and they're pretty hot with their soccer shorts and long white socks and scuffed, dirty, worn sneakers on and I casually sit down on a bench not too far away so that I can catch a glance at them once in awhile. There's no chance in hell that I'm gonna score with any of them. I just like watching them and fantasizing about what it would be like. I picked out one of the kids...he looked about 18 or 19 and I focused on him while I let my imagination go wandering. He had long, black, sorta greasy looking hair with a red bandana rolled as a headband, and a strong, masculine looking face with a hint of Indian and Spanish features. He was slender but muscular, one of those stringy, racehorse looking bodies and really big hands, which I always find, indicates that a guy probably has a big cock. I couldn't tell much from looking at his crotch because he was sitting cross-legged in the grass. He also looked to have really big feet...about a size 11 I would say. And he was probably no more than about 5'8" tall. And you've heard about big feet, big meat, right?

So, he's laughing and joking with the other guys and seemed to be a really friendly, outgoing sort and I see myself walking up to him. He's alone and sitting under a tree and I just casually say, "Man, beautiful weather, ain't it?" And he smiles and says, "Yeah, man, beautiful," and he sorta does that Latin tug at the crotch of his soccer shorts and smiles at me.

"Whaddya doin' out here by yourself? I ask him, kneeling down in the grass.

"Oh, nuthin'" he responds, "didn't wanna' go home. Just got out of soccer practice."

"Ya' lookin' for some action?" I brazenly ask, not knowing what his reaction is going to be.

"Depends..." he smirks.

"On what?" I ask. I ain't gonna pay. I don't pay for dick, there's too much for free.

"Depends on what kind of action," he responds.

"And that would be..."

"Well, my girlfriend is on the rag and I get really horny, ya know? I ain't got my rocks off and I sure could use a good blowjob 'cause I ain't had any for about four days now," he responds.

"I could take care of that," I say, feeling my own cock beginning to swell and I reach down and adjust it in my shorts. "You got any conditions?"

"Meaning..."

"Meaning, I ain't got any money but I can offer you a beer or a drink or some good smoke..."

"I don't hustle, man. I don't even go with guys but I figure you're probably gay and I'm horny...so, whatever..."

"Can I see it?"

"What?"

"Can I see your cock?" I ask, looking right into his eyes.

"Yeah, at your place."

"Now."

"Naw."

"Come on, just pull it out and let me look at it. Nobody's around."

He looks around, over his shoulder, left, right, and then he reaches up the leg of his shorts and wrestles his snake out of the leg.

I whistle in appreciation. The big, uncut, brown cunt-sticker is about 6 inches long, soft, and the foreskin covers about half of this big, shiny, pink head. The dick is covered with strong blue veins and as he wiggles it a bit in his fist, I see that it's about as big around as a fuckin' beer can. I ain't kidding.

"See enough?" he kinda' sneers and stuffs it away.

"Yeah, let's go," I tell him.

"Where?"

"I got a car. My place isn't far."

"Cool," he gets up and sorta swaggers and looks at me.

"You ain't plannin' no kinky shit, are you? Cause I'll beat your ass if you get weird. I just want a blow job...straight up, no funny shit, okay?"

"Yep, that's all I want, I say. I just want to swallow your load."

Silently we walk to the edge of the park where my old, maroon convertible is parked and I go around and open the door for him. He slides in. I go around and get behind the wheel.

"Where we goin?"

"Just up Santa Monica to West Hollywood, then I'll bring you back."

"Cool."

As we're driving, we strike up a conversation. He tells me that he just graduated from high school, that he's looking for a job and that he'd like to go to a trade school and study mechanics. "I'm really good at fixin' cars and motors and shit like that," he says, taking the cigarette I offer him. "I know I ain't smart enough to enter a regular college, but I don't wanna be one of them intellectuals anyway. What do you do?"

"Besides sucking cock? Well, I was one of them intellectuals until I got tired of the whole thing and now I just live off a small income and work as a consultant for electronics firms when I feel like it."

"Cool," he replied, sucking on his cigarette.

I wasn't really cool with my life. I had had it good until I finally decided that being a phony, straight man with a wife wasn't what I was meant to be. I got tired of sneaking around and furtively sucking a cock now and then and going home feeling guilty and shitty all the time. So I walked out on her and she got most of my money and now I'm feeling less guilty but a lot poorer. I can't complain though. I finally know what I want which is an endless stream of young dick and ass until maybe one day I will catch up on all the boy-dick and pussy I missed in 20 years of living a false life.

We drove in silence for a while. He rubbed his crotch from time to time and looked over at me and sorta grinned and I would look at his bulge and lick my lips. My hands were sweaty on the steering wheel and I had this incredible tingle of excitement in my groin and a buzzing in my head.

"I got an idea," Carlos - that's his name - says.

"What's that?"

"Why don't we go to Merriwether Park instead of to your place. I know some woods that are really private. I like doin' it out of doors, don't you?"

"Why?"

"'Cause it's kinda exciting and dangerous. I've fucked my girlfriend there lotsa times."

I thought about it for a minute. I wouldn't have to worry about him robbing me if I didn't take him home, not that there was much to steal. I'd be out of doors and better able to handle a situation if I had to run or get help or something. These were things I always thought about when I picked up a trick as rough looking as Carlos, although I had a hunch he wasn't really trouble. "Okay," I said, "direct me."

We drove through the park, past the picnic tables and barbecue pits and on up into the foothills and kept going until we were on a narrow patch of asphalt and the trees were thick and hanging in a canopy over the roadway and he kept saying, "further," until we really were buried in the woods.

"This is it," he exclaimed and I pulled off into a small clearing and stopped the car. Carlos hopped out, stretched, and then leaned against the car. I got out and walked over to where he was standing. He grinned at me. He took the red bandana from around his head and tied it to the radio antenna. Then he took his big wad of dick under his shorts in his hand and, looking up at me, sneered, "you want it?"

"Yes," I said, reaching for that big slab of meat. He stepped back.

"How much you want it?"

Okay, we were going to play games. "Come on, let me feel it."

"Tell me how much you want it...tell me how you want to suck on my big pinga you gringo puta!" he snarled.

I knew what he was saying about his "cock" and me being a "gringo whore," and I said, "Come on man, let me suck on your big, fat cock. Let me taste your foreskin and suck the cheese off your dick, Let me feel your cock slide down my throat and I want you to fuck me in the mouth and shoot your hot load in me. Come on man..." I was playing with my dick and pleading as he kneaded the package under his shorts.

"Kneel down!"

I dropped to my knees. He pulled his shorts down and his monster tool flopped out, half hard and drooling. A drop of clear liquid oozed from the pisshole and I caught it with my tongue.

"Okay, cocksucker, bitch, take it," he snarled and began stuffing his huge dick into my mouth until it was all in and my nose was being assailed by the musky odor of his pubic hair and balls. He held my head against his groin and his cock began to grow inside of my mouth. I breathed as best I could through my nose and his fuck-snake continued to swell and the head began slithering into the back of my mouth and then down my throat. I reached down and pulled my cock from my open fly and felt the stickiness of precum on it.

Carlos began moving his ass back and forth, side to side and his cock buried itself deeper into my throat. Still holding my head firmly, he began throat-fucking me. I was gasping for breath but I didn't want him to stop and he didn't want to stop either and he kept fucking my face until I finally had to push him away.

I gasped for breath and saliva drooled from my mouth and down my shirtfront as he waved his now stiff, monstrous cock in my face and waited for me to take it again.

This time, I deep throated that big, brown monster and then began moving my head back and forth while he put his hands back on the car and rolled his head back, hissing and moaning and cursing. "Mothafuckincocksuckinsonofabitch," he moaned. "Oh, you are one good cocksucking faggot, man. Take that hot fuckin' dick down your throat. Yeah, suck me, suck my fuckincockyoumothafucker!"

Then he pushed me away and I almost fell on my ass since I'd been balancing on my toes in front of him.

"I wanna' fuck your ass, man," he growled. "Turn around."

"No...I don't do..."

"Hey, I wanna fuck your fuckin' ass, man! TURN AROUND!"

There was something really menacing in his tone and I quickly decided an ass plundering would be better than an ass kicking, so I turned around and got on my hands and knees. He kneeled down, grabbed the back of my shirt and then I heard him spit a big gob into his hand which he then rubbed on my asshole.

"Ugh!" I grunted as he shoved hard against my tight pucker hole and then another "Ugh" as I felt my sphincter give way and his apple-sized cockhead entered my ass. With another plunge, he buried his monster dick all the way up my ass and I bit my lip to keep from shouting. He then slid that 10-inch pole back and almost out of my ass and then plunged it back in to the hilt. He began a steady rhythm of fucking and I realized that it was feeling better and better as he plundered my almost-virgin ass.

"You like that? You like that you fuckin' whore?" he asked, hanging onto my shirt like he was riding a horse and bucking his dick into and out of my asshole.

"Yes," I hissed, "yes, fuck my ass you hot fucking stud!"

He proceeded to ride my ass, rotating his hips so that his ass plundering, butt-hole invading monster cock rotated inside of me, reaching places that almost made me shoot my cockwad. He'd jackhammer his cock into my ass, then rotate it, then pull it all the way out of my ass and, taking aim, slam it into me all the way to the hilt. My hard cock was bobbing frantically while he fucked me and I swear I thought I was gonna' shoot a load just from being fucked!

"You like that 'Rican dick, don't you? You want my big hot load up your fuckin' ass, don't you? DON'T YOU?" he almost shouted as he fucked me and I felt sweat falling from his chest onto my asscheeks.

"YES, FUCK MY FUCKING ASS!" I responded and began to push back onto his cock as he pushed into me and our rhythm got faster and faster and his breath was coming in hisses and he fucked me until my knees were sore from the sticks and leaves and my hands were getting numb and then he started whimpering and got louder and louder and then he slammed his cock into me and I felt the hot white lava swell his dick and then spurt into my bowels, gush after gush spewed into me and suddenly I felt my own dick begin to spasm and my jizz shot out of my cock and into the leaves under me as I moaned and almost collapsed. He was lying over me and I was supporting the weight of two until he finally rose up and pulled out of me, and the feeling was that my ass was being turned inside out.

I looked over my shoulder and he was wiping his dick with a handful of leaves.

"Man, that was some fuck!" he said as he tucked his cock back into his shorts.

I had regained some of my composure and had pulled up my shorts, which were covered with leaves. I looked at him and smiled. "Yeah, man, that was some fuck!"

"I never fucked a man before," he said as we were getting into the car. "I fucked my girl in the ass but she don' like it."

"Naw, women have pussies, they don't like to get ass-fucked," I said. "My wife hated it."

"You was married?" he looked at me quizzically.

"Sure, for 15 years."

"And when did you turn queer?"

"When I was born."

"Cool," he muttered, lighting a cigarette.

When I dropped him off on Santa Monica and the beach, he gave me a high-five. "Maybe we'll see each other later," he said. "I come here all the time. You hang here?"

"Yeah, quite often," I said.

"Man, that was some fuck," he grinned at me and, shaking his head, wandered off down the street.

I don't know how long I was sitting there. I must have dozed off. I opened my eyes and the Latino boys were gone. The sun was beginning to paint the western sky, out over the Pacific, a rosy hue and there was a chill in the air. I looked around. Man, that was the most incredibly real dream I had ever had!

I was getting hungry. Time to get back to my furnished apartment and thaw out a pizza.

I walked to the edge of the park and over to my old maroon convertible. I stopped, shocked. There, tied to the radio antenna was a red bandana. What the fuck?