Saturday after dark: a bus ride to Liverpool Street station, then down the stairs to the place where guys come to hunt each other. Father to my side, a black boy not too far behind. Looks in the mirror, the hand dryers humming, comings and goings like an airport – just as impersonal.
Take the Tube to Old Street and get checked out by a group of guys in their 30s who have given up the hunt. The secret door just by Old Street station is closed. Back onto the Tube, down to Oxford Circus.
The stairs leading down are just south of the Tube, at the foot of Carnaby Street. Tall, young guy taking his time; daddies arriving just as I’m about to leave. (Later I see one of them that made my mouth water walking through Soho.)
Follow the cold streets full of shoppers to the popular stairs near Soho’s red light district, but there’s a waiting line!
Continue my journey on foot: Leicester Square has closed its underground chambers for refurbishment. Time now to meet a friend at B__ for a bit of clubbing.
Throughout the night, in a club in South London, I visit the urinals and stand by guys with their bitter steam rising into my waiting face.
Tonight, I went to the gym and tried not to stare at the young guy with the large cock pressed against his tracksuit trousers. Two hot, bearded guys worked out side by side, in silence. They left together. Then an older type, shaved head and beard, with hot muscles and a really keen face, looked at me with curiosity.
In the showers, nobody joined me. I soaped my body, fingered my hole with one, then two fingers. My cock got hard and I prayed that someone would show up to play with me – but nobody did. An announcement over the intercom asked us all to pack our things, the gym was closing.
I’ll be back there tomorrow – hopefully more lucky.