Chapter 1

Sid was the fifth guy I had sexual contact with. I was still only 14 and had discovered the joys of ‘cottaging’ and had embraced the delights of it.

All my previous encounters had been with much older guys in their 60s or 70s in public places like toilets or bird-watching sheds in the woods.

I guess in that regard ... Sid was no different in some ways. I had spotted him entering the town’s public toilets from the vantage point of a park bench that overlooked it.

He was maybe in his late 60s and very tall and thin. Well over 6’ as opposed to my small, skinny statue of 5’. His grey and thinning hair was combed over his bald crown.

His thick glasses were perched on a nose that was pointed ... like the rest of his features. He basically looked like a typical granddad. It was a look that I found arousing in an odd way and was really the only type of guy I now sort when I risked cruising.

I watched the entrance for some time and was satisfied that maybe he was also cruising, which made my already firm cock harder against my thigh.

I had walked to the bench on my way home from school and had been sitting at the bench for some time watching the comings and goings, and it was getting rather late.

I really couldn’t hang around too long. I couldn’t think of a good explanation why I would be so late getting home.

I suddenly came up with an idea, stopping on the path, I pulled my school bag around, and fished inside. Finding a textbook and pen I placed the Biro on my lips, thinking about what to write before jotting it down at the bottom of a page.

‘HI IF U WOULD LIKE 2 MEET TEXT ME’

I scribbled my mobile number, then tore the page at the bottom before entering the now-familiar toilet block. I noticed one of the cubical doors was bolted shut and silently crouched down, seeing two shoes under the gap of the door facing forward. I guess he was waiting for someone or just trying his luck.

I went up to the door and quickly flicked the folded note under the door and into the stall before making a hasty retreat and making my way home.

The estate was about a mile from the toilet, and I was almost home when my mobile started to ring in my bag. I pulled it out and saw a mobile that I didn’t recognize. It must be the stranger. I was hoping for a text due to my shy nature, but I couldn’t let it pass.

“Hello,” I answered. My voice sounding nervous.

“Ahh. Hello. You left a note? Under the door,” he replied. His voice is deep. Maybe a hint of nerves himself?

“Yes. You don’t mind, do you?”

I heard him give a little chuckle. I guess he could hear how worried I sounded.

“No. Not at all. I didn’t see you.”

“Sorry. I saw you from the bench.”

“You should have knocked. I would have liked that.” His voice is thick with lust. He sounded as horny as I felt. My cock was firm and stiff as I stood on the pavement talking to this stranger.

“Sorry, I couldn’t stop.”

“But you would’ve liked to have joined me?”

“Yes,” I answered rather quickly, feeling my cheeks flush. I heard him chuckle at the end of the line.

“How old are you? You sound young.”

“16.” I lied

“And you would like to meet up with me.”

“Yes”

“I’m 68. Does that bother you?”

“No.”

“Have you done this before? I haven’t seen you there.”

“A couple of times ... with older people,” I added.

“And what do you like?”

I paused for a second. It felt odd to have this conversation in public even when the street was empty. I lowered my voice.

“Being sucked.”

My answer made him chuckle before he answered.

“Mmm. You really should have knocked. You wouldn’t have lasted long. I’ve got a hard-on. Is your cock hard?”

“Yes,” I murmured. My length felt hot against my thigh. My pre-cum slick on my skin

“Nice. When do you want to meet?”

“I can’t at the moment. I have to get home.” It must have sounded so immature, I thought even as I said it. My voice had a frustrated edge to it.

“Thats ok. Is Saturday OK?”

“Yes. When?” I answered eagerly.

“Would you rather come to my home? I’m on Crescent Lane. You know it.”

I thought for a second. “I think so.”

“I’m number 22. The semi-detached bungalow at the end with the blue door.”

I suddenly realized that it was Wednesday. Could I wait till Saturday? Not really. Now I knew where he lived and how keen and willing he was.

It took me a split second for this realization to go through my head, and I found myself blurting out, “Tomorrow?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow. Can I meet you tomorrow?”

“I’m normally at home. When did you?”

I butted in, such was my eagerness, as I saw a way of making it.

“I can be there a bit over one. On my lunch break.”

There was a slight pause.

“OK. Just give us a call if there’s a problem, and I’ll do likewise.”

“OK,” I replied as he hung up.

I placed my phone in my bag and found myself impossibly aroused. My cheeks felt flushed. My cock was like a stiff iron rod. I could even feel my hands shaking with the nerves of my upcoming meeting.

I knew it was going to be a long evening.

My mother commented on how I looked over the evening meal.

I couldn’t even sleep that night. Spending it planning tomorrow like a precise operation ... I touched my excited member under the sheets.

I knew I had about an hour. My last lesson before break ended early, and I could slip out and maybe get to his in 5 minutes. I just had to watch the time and give myself enough to get back. A lot of pupils went into town at break time, so it wasn’t a big deal.

I managed to avoid a friend before break time and slip out the gates alone. My intention was a brisk walk, but I started to jog from and on to my destination. The time being my biggest concern.

I was free from my school bag that was safely stored in my locker and had reached Crescent Lane faster than I guessed and slowed to a brisk walk. I was a little flushed and could feel sweat on my back from my jog.

I calmed myself as my heart thumped hard in my chest. My cock was in a state of semi-arousal as I slowed my walk, looking at the numbers of the bungalows.

Sure enough, 22 was at the end, with a blue door. Like the rest, it was a neat bungalow, maybe built in the 1950s, with a well-maintained garden.

My hands shaken slightly as I walked down the concrete driveway to the front door under a small porch. My cheeks felt blazing hot as I pressed the doorbell and heard the faint sound of the ring in the hallway.

I did wonder if he had set me up as a joke. I guess apart from some embarrassment, there wasn’t much to lose, and I licked my dry lips as I saw a figure coming to the door through the obscured glass.

It was opened by the same man I saw entering the toilet the other evening. He was dressed in a shirt, unbuttoned at the top to show his thin, long, wrinkled neck. A pair of red chinos with slippers on his feet.

He seemed a lot taller up close ... around 6’ 6” as he looked down. His eyes were moving up and down on me, dressed in my school uniform. His gaze seemed a little critical, and I did wonder if my appearance would put him off.

“You must be the post boy.”

It took me a second to grasp his meaning and the note I slipped under the cubicle before giving a shy smile and nodding.

He returned the smile, opened the door wide, and stood aside. I stepped into the hallway.

“The living rooms there.”

He pointed to a half-opened door ... I must have looked a little nervous as he added, “Its OK. I’m alone. I’m a widow,” he assured me.

I walked into the tidy but dated room. A coffee table sat in front of a floral sofa with two matching chairs. My heart was thumping, and my cheeks felt crimson as I heard the door shut and get locked.

It also had the effect of finally hardening my cock, which had been slowly growing since I walked down his driveway.

“Take a seat,” he said, entering the room. Making me glance behind at the chair he waved his arm at as he himself sat on the sofa and reached out for a packet of cigarettes on the coffee table. He offered the pack to me, but I declined with a shake before he placed one in his mouth and lit it.

“I’m Sid,” he said after blowing a stream of smoke and resting his bony elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.

“Jonathan,” I answered quite kindly ... my voice a little nervous.

“So Jonathan. You’re 16 are you?” he said, fixing his eyes on me. The cigarette was smouldering in his fingers.

I gave a small nod to the lie, and he didn’t look that convinced.

“It’s ok, Jonathan. I’m nervous to.” He smiled, making me do likewise.

“Have you done anything like this before?”

Once again, I nodded.

“4 times.” I felt I had to say something rather than just sit there silent.

“And do you always leave notes?” He smiled, taking a draw on the smouldering cigarette. It made me give a nervous chuckle.

“No. I meet them in the toilet, apart from one in the woods.”

I said rather proud of my sexual exploits as that little bit.

He gave a puzzled look.