Wilde Times

By adam walker

Published on Jun 1, 2020

Gay

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I remember fondly the good old days at 'Wilde Times' (Wilde with an 'E' as in Oscar). A discreet little establishment with an anonymous blue door in a quiet London side street next to a convenience store and opposite a pub, it became a magnet to a cock hungry young man just a year out of university and still fairly new to London.

Six foot tall, broad and muscular, I had little trouble attracting men, but I just wasn't ready for a relationship. So I found pleasure in anonymous encounters in the basement establishments at the seedy end of London's gay scene. Soon these tacky venues became my second home and the very namelessness and invisibility of the sex sessions became the primary attraction.

After a day chained to a desk in my dull office job I would make my way to Wilde Times. Once I had paid the entry fee to the oldish man slouched behind the battered desk I would march across the threadbare carpet and descend into the dark basement down the narrow stairs. On opening the door, the odour of sweat, testosterone and cum hit you. On the wall opposite a modest screen dominated the dark cave and was its only source of light. Ranged in between were a couple of dozen battered old red velveteen seats probably salvaged from a long gone cinema. Behind the seats was a dark space about three metres by four.

On this day I take up my observation post, at the back, where a couple of other guys are standing. In the seats two or three more men sit watching the screen, playing with themselves and checking out the room. One catches my eye - a tall slim man, aged fortyish, wearing a suit, with glasses and sporting a conservative haircut. 'Mr. Respectable' I think. His hand has slipped inside his flies teasing the treasure hidden inside.

I settle in beside him, slouching in the seat and starting to massage my groin. We both pretend to look at the film while checking each other out.

On screen an army officer inspects two near naked privates fondling their genitals. Meanwhile I glance right and see I have my target's undivided attention. He watches hungrily as I lower my zip and slide a hand inside my flies. I let my right leg move out until it touches his leg. I can feel his calf pushing against mine. My hand takes his and places it on my bulge. I notice his wedding ring. An extra frisson from doing the forbidden runs through me.

He starts to knead my cock through the thin fabric of my clinging briefs. I let my hand slide up the inside of his thigh until my fingers reach and start to explore the gap in his trousers.

The result of my first reccy: cock large, very hard, panties - very thin possibly women's, very moist, lots of precum. 'Mr not-so-respectable after all' I think

I undo my trousers so he can gain unfettered access to my impatient erection. He follows my lead.

I notice that on screen the officer is now fucking one private over his desk while the second kneels behind him tonguing his ass. Also there is a man standing behind, watching, wanking. He looks like he's just walked in off a building site.

My married man unbuckles to reveal a primed cock springing out of his red lacy knickers. I lean over and put a finger to the tip of his dripping cock. I put the finger in my mouth and taste his precum. Oh nectar of the gods! He's wanking my cock quite hard, I whisper "slow down".

"Shall we go and stand at the back" I suggest

"OK"

I stand he follows as we both waddle to the darkest corner trousers round our knees.

I realise he's much taller than me.

"I love your flimsy girly panties" I whisper seductively.

He kisses me, one hand on my neck, other on my cock.

Our audience has grown to three, the builder has been joined by an older gent in business attire and an Asian youth (probably Bengali off the nearby council estate) in a track suit.

My partner in crime unbuttons my shirt and runs his hands across my chest, lightly patchily covered in a soft fur, and then kneels in front of my cock, a firm slim seven inch cut torpedo and easily takes it in his mouth.

As he works my meat I appraise our three spectators. The young Asian lad is casually 'dressed' (I use the term loosely): trakkie bottoms round his ankles, pants round his knees and t-shirt tucked behind his neck. All go to reveal a smooth hairless chest. He is short slight of build, his brown eyes portray a desperate longing and in his hand, a nice solid brown cock. The builder, mid to late forties, wears jeans stiff with paint and oil stains and poking out of his flies a thick cock which he is gently caressing. The oldest of the three is a balding businessman; what's left of his closely cropped hair is grey. His cock is still hidden, but he is pawing the front of his trousers. Even in the gloom it is clear that he is blessed in that particular department.

My playmate and I explore each others bodies, to satisfy our own lusts, excite each other and to entertain our audience. Our hands roam, I slip a finger inside his lacy panties and down his crack to play with his hole. He squirms in delight.

"Fuck me, please" he pleads.

I bend him over, his hands gripping the back of the cinema seats and pull down his red panties. I'm facing the screen; briefly it registers that the scene has changed - four young privates are sitting on their beds in a dorm, hands stuffed down the front of their uniform trousers. The older businessman hands me a bottle of poppers I inhale.

As I watch my cock slide into my fuck buddy and begin to pump I feel light-headed, detached as if I'm watching a third party fuck this guy. The youth moves round so that he is now standing in front of my accomplice. He offers him his rock-hard brown boner and my married bottom takes it in his mouth. The youth runs his hands through Mr. Respectable's short brown hair.

The older businessman and builder are now playing with each other, the builder going down on the executive. All this I observe as my hips rock, my thighs roll and my piston pounds in and out of Mr Respectable-married-man's ass.

This can't go on for long, the scent of men in heat is overpowering. All three of us cum near simultaneously. With a couple of strangled yelps the young lad releases his load straight down Mr Respectable's throat, causing him to wank himself to climax. His body jerks and jackknives as he sprays cum across the already sticky floor. I feel the surge, like electricity running through my body and with a loud guttural grunt I too am now in full flow.

I nibble my mate's ear. "That was extra hot," I whisper.

Mr. Respectable tucks his cock, glistening with cum, into his little red knickers and thanks me for a great fuck.

As we clean up and dress the other businessman ejaculates over the builder, who greedily laps up the thick gobs of cum.

As he pulled up his trousers the distinguished gent commented: "great show, really enjoyed it." The builder, still kneeling on the floor, gave me a smile and a thumbs up sign.

The film is still showing the four young soldiers, but now two of them are being fucked by the other two. I make my way upstairs to the small toilet where I can clean up a little. Briefcase in hand my fuck buddy exists Wilde Times - back to his respectable wife, in his respectable suburban home. Would I ever see him again?

Those were happy days a decade ago. For a few short minutes I would allow Mr. Respectable, or someone like him, to escape their humdrum existence as we rutted frantically. I liked to imagine he managed to slip away from the conformity of his day-to-day life as often as he could. Regardless, I would be back at Wilde Times in a few days ready for him or another man like him to immerse myself in the wonders of the male body.

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