Silver Escape
I had gone over to Amsterdam for a “dirty weekend” but I hadn’t made out at the clubs that evening, so around midnight, I decided to finish up at a sleazy side-street cinema.
They were showing some old Falcon movies I think, because there was a soundtrack consisting of a lot of heavy breathing accompanied by a great deal of “Suck that dick!” and “Fuck me, oh yeah, fuck me!” but I was more interested in what was going on in the shadows of the audience.
It was just a small place and there were only a few rows of seats salvaged from some old cinema that had clearly seen better days. The floor, although carpeted, felt sticky under my trainers and I remained standing at the back, where I would be free to move around if necessary, which is what a number of others were doing.
In one of the rows in front of me, in the light cast by the film being shown, I could make out people moving from seat to seat – and there seemed to be one guy sitting well back, with his cock out of his trousers and guys on each side of him taking turns to suck and wank him. I was quite shocked. It was all a bit much for me really, a naïve young guy of 22, not long “out” and still discovering things I had never imagined just a year or so before!
In the area along the wall at the back where I was standing, there were a number of figures and I watched the ritual unfold; a guy would shift places to stand next to his chosen quarry, both facing ahead and seemingly watching the film. In the darkness the “hunter” would move closer to his prey until he touched his chosen quarry; sometimes, the quarry would move away to find another position in the line along the wall, or to take up the role of “hunter” next to someone else. Sometimes, a hunter’s hand could be seen to pass in front of his chosen quarry, fingers feverishly investigating, exploring, squeezing. Occasionally, a hunter and his chosen quarry would whisper to each other in the darkness and then leave through a mysterious curtain on the other side, where there seemed to be an even darker area from which people would emerge from time to time.
Two or three times, I tried to summon up the courage to approach someone, only to be “pipped at the post” by someone else. At one point, a middle-aged guy sidled up to me and began “the routine”. He turned towards me and grasped my crotch – and squeezed quite hard. No-one had ever done that to me before; certainly not in public! He whispered in my ear in accented English,
“I have a place to go not far from here”.
He was short and tubby and his breath smelled of beer and cigarette-smoke. I said, simply,
“No – thank you” and slowly moved away, hoping not to hurt his feelings too much.
There was one guy I spotted who looked quite nice. He had turned down at least two overtures, one of them from my tubby middle-aged smoker, but at this moment he still seemed to be “available”. He was quite tall, easily 6 foot and with what looked like a moustache or heavy stubble. In the dark, he looked youngish and well-built. He was wearing a leather bomber-jacket and jeans and at this moment there was a space beside him. My heart pounding, I moved across and stood next to him.
Once beside him, I realised I couldn’t see him without being obvious. Then I thought, “He already knows you are interested, so why be shy now?”, so I turned to look at him. Reflected in the light from the movie-screen, his profile was even nicer than I expected; his nose was slightly rounded and his face was kind and well-groomed. Even with what I could now see was dark stubble, his hair was neat and his sideburns were sharply trimmed. He smelled quite nice too; he was wearing after-shave. So was I. He was quite a bit taller than me and I suddenly started to have second-thoughts, “He’s rejected at least two other guys; why would you be any different?” My heart was in my stomach now and I felt a bit queasy.
I put my arm behind him and gently placed a hand on the cheek of his bum. He didn’t move. I felt his buttocks through his jeans. He had a nice full bum and his jeans fitted snugly around it. My hand explored into his cleavage. My heart was going like the clappers and felt like it was about to jump out of my throat!
I decided to go for broke. I turned sideways-on to him and put my other hand on his crotch – and got quite a shock; he had the most enormous erection right across his thigh, pointing in my direction! It felt really thick and long and it didn’t leave any room in the front of his jeans; he was a big guy; in every respect, it seemed – a lot bigger than me, just a 10 stone weakling!
At this point, he responded by gently but firmly putting his arm around me and pulling me to him, so that he could look me in the face. In the darkness, he smiled and brought his other hand up to the back of my head, first stroking my hair. Then he just pulled me tightly against him in a hug, as he brought his face down to mine. Our mouths touched – gently at first. He was seeing if I would respond. His stubble tickled slightly but his lips were moist and tasted of mint. I was so taken-aback by his positive response; I never expected him to be so passionate. Our mouths locked and our tongues entwined in a deep, long kiss of such warmth that I melted into his arms.
My one arm I wrapped around his middle as I felt the heat of his body through his shirt. Here there were no folds of fat or flabby flesh, just the promise of a hard, muscled body underneath. The hard bulge of his erection pressed into my abdomen and my engorged crotch pressed against his thigh as he held me tightly against him. He smelled gorgeous and I now buried my face against his chest. I just wanted him to enfold me in his lovely strong arms and carry me away to ecstasy. I was so aroused by this time that my own pre-cum was already soaking my underpants with all this excitement.
“Have you got anywhere to go?” I whispered into his ear a few moments later.
There was a pause and then,
“Sorry – no,” he answered, with a note of obvious disappointment in his voice, “Haven’t you?”
The thing is, I was on this week-end break with a friend – just a mate, you know, but we were sharing a small hotel room and I couldn’t very well bring a stranger back there. On the other hand, I couldn’t go into all the details right now and he might get the wrong idea even if I tried. In fact, I hadn’t properly thought this thing through before I started! So, I just said,
“No, sorry.”
I thought that might be the end of it but he didn’t immediately break away. Instead, he took me by the hand and led me off towards the curtain I had seen earlier. I was being led away like a naughty school-boy, as if to be punished by the Head Boy. Memories of school-days started flooding back and all sorts of horrendous images started going through my mind of what might be about to become of me. But even my imagination didn’t prepare me for what I was about to experience.
In the stygian gloom beyond the curtain, I could just make out a number of shadowy figures in various groups. Patches of brightness betrayed themselves as bare flesh, as these figures were entwined in sexual gratification. It was hot and there was a great deal of heavy breathing. And there was an aroma I had never smelled before. I later discovered this was amyl-nitrate or “poppers” but fortunately, my big guy didn’t seem to want or need any of that.
Suddenly, I realised we were against a black painted brick wall and he was still leading me along it until, out of no-where, a door opened and from the gap shone a deep red light, suddenly illuminating the figures in the room, frozen in mid-action, like a grotesque tableau. Two figures emerged from beyond the red light and my guy quickly dragged me towards the opening and we disappeared inside, as he closed the door behind us. We were inside something not unlike a cupboard and it smelled rank in there, of sweat, body odour and the unmistakable smell of stale cum. But at least we were alone and there was a dim red light from a single bulb above us so that we could just see each other. We turned to one another and went back to our embrace and our deep, long, passionate kiss.