Rick's Cruising Diary

Polo Sport boy

10 July

The end of a scorching-hot week in the UK. I'd been walking around the city enjoying the sun and doing some shopping. Well, call me a habitual cruiser, but on the way home I decided to call by the Canal.

At the top of Canal Street (the street at the heart of the 'gay village') I walked down the slope onto the long narrow path. The Canal runs along one side, a 15ft-high brick wall on the other, with the street above. The path runs under the road, past the old Employment Exchange (a fine example of 1950's architecture), then under the new hotel into an underground area.

This is the infamous underground cruising area that everyone talks about. The narrow path reaches a lock and then opens out, with railings all along one side. Behind the railings is a muddy area, with various concrete walls, pillars and steps, behind which guys do the business. Others aren't bothered and do it in the open (I must admit I've done it myself).

At 2.30 am on a Saturday or Sunday morning, after the clubs have closed, it's not uncommon for there to be 40 or 50 guys wandering around here. This place is so legendary, I've seen it mentioned in awe on websites based as far afield as California! But today, at 5pm on a Saturday, things were much more quiet.

Straight away I noticed a good-looking black lad. He was about 5ft 7ins, with cropped hair, a handsome square face and broad shoulders — which I could see really well as he was wearing a white muscle vest. He was in a pair of long khaki shorts. In a way he reminded me of that guy in the Polo Sport ads although, to my mind, he was a bit better-looking.

We went through the usual routine. I followed him a bit, then walked away to see if he followed or walked in the opposite direction. He did come over.

I walked around him. Even after all this time I still find it difficult to make the first move. Besides which, there have been plain-clothes cops down there lately, so you can't be too careful.

Anyway, finally I reached out and put my hand on his arse. Very nice.

We wandered behind a concrete pillar. He began feeling my semi-hard meat through my pants and I did the same to him. But I was impatient. I pulled down the elastic waistband of his shorts and a very nice long thick cock sprang out. It must've been 8 inches. He unzipped me and got my dick in his hand too.

I leant forward and kissed him on the shoulder and neck. Despite the heat, he smelt fresh and soapy. He had a really nice defined bod which was turning me on like crazy. He looked hot with that white vest contrasting against his smooth black skin. I kissed his upper arm and around the edge of his pecs. He lifted his arm and I nuzzled his arm pit. I have a bit of a thing for that... Gorgeous.

As I wanked him with my left hand, my right was having a good feel of his tight little bum. My fingers played with the sexy region between his hole and his balls.

Meanwhile he was tossing me off, feeling my balls and running his hand over my chest and stomach.

A few guys started coming near — this is one of the problems with doing anything in this particular place, especially when its busy. Reminds me a bit of those fairy stories about trolls that live under the bridge. Some people don't mind being watched, some do, and really these guys should learn to take a hint.

Anyway, there were only a couple so it didn't bother me particularly, so long as they didn't come too close and start groping. My friend wasn't so keen, but luckily he wasn't put off enough to stop...

Finally he asked me: 'are you going to cum?' Funny, because I was wondering the same thing about him. I said I was waiting for some sign that he was near too. 'I've wanked too much today,' he said. 'I don't think I can'. Luckily I had no such problem, he continued to toss me off and I shot my load.