St. James’ park has a cottage worth visiting. It literally looks like a cottage, with a winding path underneath trees that reaches its entrance. I was meeting friends last night at the ICA and, because I had arrived quite early, I decided to check it out.
As I got to the cottage, I noticed a guy hanging around its entrance. He was in his mid-to-late thirties, with cropped dark hair, in a pair of jeans jacket and trousers. He gave me that look that said he’d find me inside in a minute, by the urinals.
One Indian guy was inside, doing everything but pissing; a business-type washed his hands; a pair of boots showed underneath one of the cubicles (getting a blow job perhaps?) As predicted, the guy milling outside joined us in a matter of seconds, but because I wasn’t too interested in any of these guys I left quickly. I almost bumped into a short, stocky bear-type as I left.
I walked across the park and found a bench to kill time. People came and went; some lay on the grass with their friends or lovers, enjoying the first good weather London has seen in a week. About half-an-hour later, I decided to check the toilets again.
As I approached the cottage, a muscular young guy with long hair fell into pace in front of me. It was obvious he was heading for the toilets too so I tried to guess whether he really needed to use the place, or was looking for something more. The earlier guy in jeans was sitting underneath a tree right outside the cottage; as soon as he saw us approaching, he jumped up and followed young muscle guy inside; another obvious cruiser (older, slightly camp) was hanging around too, adjusting his crotch for all to see.
Inside, the guy in jeans pulled his cock out beside long-haired muscle boy; I fell into place beside a midget old man with a stubby thick cock. Long-haired muscle boy seemed to freak out — he zipped up in a matter of seconds and washed his hands. Old midget man shot his wad and wiped his dick with some toilet paper. I tried not to look at the guy in jeans, too irritated with him (what kind of an idiot hangs out just outside a cottage, for all to see?) I left in a matter of seconds just as the older, camp cruiser came in.
No wonder so many cottages get busted by the police. Some people just don’t do “discreet”.