Straight British Amateur Men with Uncut Cocks
Established 2003

I was halfway across the Heath when I realised that my back teeth were beginning to float. Peter’s Dad had taken all of us off to the pub after our last match of the season and bought us a few pints. As I headed home I was a bit buzzed and suddenly I realised I had to take a piss, bad. It was late afternoon, people about, but up ahead was a small wood that looked convenient for a piss break. I half-ran up the hill, shirt in hand, the studs of my football boots digging into the soft soil. Ducking under the branches, I slipped into the middle of the small wood, dappled sunlight hitting my bare shoulders. I stopped and looking around quickly I pulled my dick out, looping the elastic of my shorts and my jock down around my balls.

God it felt good; my bladder emptied itself in one strong, long, steady flow that arched out from my cock-head to splatter into the leaves a good yard in front of my spread legs. I pissed for two minutes straight before the flood began to turn into a stream and then a dribble; relief!

I had shaken off and was about to tuck my cock back into my shorts when I suddenly heard a cough. Standing not five feet in front of me was a guy about my age, his eyes fixed on the prick I held in my hand. With a smile he then looked me in the eye. “Nice one you got there,” he said matter of factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world to comment on a guy’s equipment. “You needed that piss,” he added, his grin getting wider. “Need it sucked?”

I guess I just sort of gaped at him for a second, my hand holding my dick. I hadn’t seen or heard him as I ducked into the trees; the urgency of my bladder overriding everything else. I didn’t mean to hesitate or anything. It’s not like I’d ever let a guy do me before. He took it as an invitation, however, and swiftly came over to stand beside me. “Yeah, a real nice one,” he said, licking his lips. I knew there were plenty of cock suckers on the Heath. The guys and me used to laugh and joke about it when we noticed them standing around watching us play. But suddenly, shit, I was tempted. Probably the beer in me got my guard down, but I could feel the weight of spunk in my balls.

The wood was silent, breathless; The guys would tell you - on the pitch, I don’t hesitate, don’t accept the head fake. But now, shit, I continued to hesitate, saying nothing, doing nothing. The guy dropped to his knees in the leaves. Grabbing my hips he swallowed my dick in one expert gasp.

If my mind was still hesitating, my dick didn’t. Shit, Maxine had been with her parents in Dorset all that week, so I hadn’t had any. My cock went from soft to hard in a flash as I felt the guy’s lips drop around my shaft, his tongue twirling and licking. I finally sort of woke to what was happening. “What the fuck you doin’?” I asked, trying to pull back. The guy kneeling beneath me looked up, not letting my dick escape from his mouth, his eyes answering me - ‘What the fuck do you think I’m doing? I’m sucking you off.’ It felt good. Damn good. I let him continue, my hips beginning to get into the motion.

He knew what he was doing, that was for sure. As I began to face fuck him, driving my hardon down his neck, he took it easily. Damn good cocksucker, my nuts slapping his chin as I plunged in and out. It didn’t take long. Hell, once I got started, I wanted to get my gun, and he wanted to take it. My knees felt like jelly as the lust built in my balls, and then I was cumming, shooting great slimy silver wads of spunk down his throat.

Gasping, my knees trembling, I grabbed the big branch that hung low in front of me to prevent myself from falling. The guy let my softening prick slip from his lips with a big smile. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand where my cum had dribbled down, he stood up, unhooked my jock and shorts from around my now emptied balls and then pulled them up. With a wink and a grin he turned and left me there, hanging onto that branch, balls lighter than they’d been in quite a while.

Chuck Dixon, August 2011

Chuck is going to write the odd erotic story for us, feel free to send us your ideas or even stories. The photographs below are some I took on Hampstead Heath in summer 2003 just as we were setting up EL and this seemed like a perfect use of Mark's photos! Nick