I grew a beard this winter, for the first time in my life. Not a thick, bushy beard, but a beard nevertheless, salt and pepper like my hair and soft to the touch.
Everyone has been complementing me on it, and I’ve noticed bearded gay guys suddenly showing an interest in me. My boyfriend also loved it, said I had become his living wank fantasy. So much so that the other day we were hanging around at home and I caught him staring at me. “What?” I laughed. He didn’t say anything but I could tell he was horny. I went over to him and we ended up fucking on the sofa.
Later, in the early hours of the morning, he woke me up, horny again. “The first time is like I’m unblocked. I then need more sex.” But I was going to the gym in a few hours so didn’t want to spend the energy.
“Stand up”, I told him. He stood on our bed and I got on my knees. I pulled his underwear down and, as he held on to the ceiling, I sucked him until he shot his load down my throat.
I was thinking of the recent cruising sites I had been as I blew him and how I wanted to suck dry all the hot guys I’d seen. All the exercise I’ve been doing – gym twice a week, runs three times, and now swimming as well – has made me horny as hell.
A few days before, on the Friday, we had spent the day wandering around London and ended up in the Royal Festival Hall after lunch. As we sat around drinking hot chocolate and reading, I noticed guys coming and going from the toilets.
The pattern was the same: the guys would go to the basement toilet, then climb the stairs and use the toilets at the back on the ground floor (by the bar), then sit outside for a while, then repeat.
There was a blond jock, very sexy, but he didn’t stay long. Also a slim, effeminate, older Indian guy, who stared hard at me. But the one boy who caught my attention was a dark haired, maybe Latino, guy in his twenties. He kept looking at me, gesturing with his head for me to follow him into the toilets. I mentioned it to my boyfriend, who sort of smiled nervously. (He’s still getting used to me talking about toilet cruising…)
Latino guy eventually left and I decided to see what the back toilet was like. In there, after going through two doors and a short hallway, I found a guy with long hair at the urinals. I hadn’t seen him go in; he must have been standing there for a long time.
I tried to piss but got performance anxiety, especially as it was so silent with just the two of us in there. A moment later he turned and smiled at me. He had very feminine features, made up eyebrows and lips. The piss gushed out, I washed my hands and left.
But now the curiosity has lodged inside me about the Festival Hall being an interesting place to cruise. There were some cute guys around but also staff checking often the toilets. The elements of risk and excitement are there.