Park Gang Sorta Bang
Discover the thrilling and steamy encounters in ‘Park Gang Sorta Bang’—a vibrant gay sex story that explores unexpected connections and sizzling chemistry in an exhilarating park setting. Join the adventure and unleash your desires!
Mike bounced out of bed at dawn as he always did and while drinking his morning juice thought of the route he would jog. He had several, which he rotated, but the park track was one he had not done for a while as it tended to be overcrowded in the summer months.
It was chilly out, but Mike put on the new outfit he had bought a few days before. It was bright to say the least, a purple athletic shirt and orange running shorts, but it was supposed to be the latest thing from Italy. He liked to be fashionable.
At least the obviously gay salesman had assured him it was the latest thing. Not that he was sure even so why he had bought it. The guy had been obviously flirting with him. He always did. Mike had, of course, ignored it. He had a girlfriend and the blond was obviously a slut. If he was interested, not that he was, the sorts of guys he thought a man should be interested in were guys like the guys at his gym, who he admired. Who wouldn’t admire them? Well-built; muscular; tall; big, white teeth; solid hands; long fingers . . . well, sort of like him, actually, and of course he was also big where it counted. Plenty for other guys to admire and envy there. Not that he showed it off. Guys might think he was a bit gay if they saw he was usually at least half hard around the gym. And it was only in full erection that he really had something to show off. He was a grower not a shower.
Mike took the elevator down, stepped out into the crisp morning air, and turned toward the park and began to jog. Already anticipating the excitement to come.
* * * *
“Hi.” Hank slapped Mutto’s hand hard, The fists gripped and they both pulled the other in until they collided, arm to arm, belly to belly, and hard-straining cock pressed to hard-straining cock, neither one willing to give way first. After five minutes of this eye-to-eye standoff, their muscles bulged and they shook with the strain.
“Yeah! Save the energy, guys.”
Hank and Mutto released each other and slapped the new arrival on the back.
“Late again, Dirk.”
The three big, muscular giants moved down the path until they found a well-vegetated dip on a bend and climbed down to check it out. Then they moved back up to the path, and Mutto walked back along it, while Dirk walked ahead and Hank made himself comfortable leaning against a tree trunk beside the path at the top of the dip.
Joggers and cyclist had been going along the path now and then. It was very early in the morning but light enough for the locals to be out already. A man and woman passed Hank and then a good-looking young man jogger in orange shorts and a purple athletic shirt was jogging up. A dark blur erupted behind him and knocked the jogger sideways into Hank’s arms. Hank jerked the guy’s arm into an armlock and turned him toward the dip.
” Ain’t he great?” Mutto said, dancing around as the jogger tried screaming, only to be stopped by Mutto pulling the jogger’s own purple athletic shirt over his head and ramming it into his mouth. When the jogger started kicking hard at Hank’s legs, Mutto grabbed his feet and lifted them up and out and walked ahead, holding the jogger’s legs like the poles on a cart. Arriving in the hollow, Mutto dropped the jogger’s legs and pulled off his trainers. They used the laces to tie the jogger’s wrists and ankles together, which cut down his flailing and kicking considerably.
Hank had the honour of dragging the guy’s orange shorts down, revealing a great muscular butt, to his ankles, where they stuck. Then Mutto straddled the bucking body and wrapped his arms around the guy’s belly, holding it up so the jogger’s ass was resting on his groin and at a better height for Hank to slap some lube on as he pulled his throbbing pole out of his shorts. After crowning himself, Hank lined up the jogger’s hole, crouched down, and poked at it playfully with his knob. The jogger jerked with each poke, struggling to escape, but the shoelaces and Mutto had him trapped.
Hank stopped being playful and guided his cock to the jogger’s hole and began to work it in.
“He is so tight,” he grunted, as he strained to get past the entrance. The jogger’s writhing became increasingly frantic, but Hank moved his cock around the jogger’s rim and slapped on more lube and finally managed to enter him. The jogger quivered for a few moments and then writhed even more. Mutto jerked him up and down trying to quieten him. Hank slowly worked himself in, stopping frequently to let the jogger adjust, not that the jogger appreciated this. Mutto jerked him about, trying to quieten him, as Hank struggled to bury his huge cock to the hilt inside him. Hank managed half way and reluctantly began to pull out before moving slowly back in, the hole finally loosening enough to let him move back and forth smoothly in slow strokes. The jogger’s writhing seemed to change its tune at some point, and he went fairly limp as Hank plowed him in a faster motion before pulling out, stripping the condom off, and coming across the jogger’s butt cheeks.
When Hank was ready, Mutto swapped places. The limp jogger came to life again, grunting and writhing as Mutto moved his dick to the now-opened channel. He managed a long, slow pumping, while kissing Hank, that had the jogger’s writhes turn to almost a bucking in time with Mutto’s thrusts.
By now the jogger’s average-looking dick had grown to quite a tree trunk, and he shot off across the grass while Hank and Mutto slapped his ass in approval. Mutto kept slapping it as he rode him as if he were a bucking bronco before coming inside his condom inside the jogger.
Mutto was pulling out when Dirk appeared, “What are you guys . . .?” he started to say.
“At last . . .” Mutto was cut off mid sentence as he took in the effeminate blond Dirk was pulling along. He was dressed in orange shorts and a purple athletic shirt.
“This is our client, guys. This is the guy we were supposed to gang bang,” Dirk said, indicating the blond who was now goggle eyed at the sight before him.
“That is our client?” Hank and Mutto said together, looking at each other and down at the jogger lying on the grass between them. “Oh, shit.”
The jogger seemed to be taking in the situation with surprising quickness and looked angrily at the new arrival. Hank pulled up his shorts and shakily removed the shirt from the jogger’s mouth.
“Um, Look we are really . . .”
“You,” the jogger on the ground called out to the newly arrived one. “You said this jogging outfit was the latest thing from Italy. You sold me this outfit and now. . . ” He struggled to get up, and Mutto hurriedly untied his wrists.
“It is the latest, ” the blond cried. “How was I to know . . .?”
The jogger tore the laces from his ankles and, shaking off his shorts, stood up naked and magnificent and glared at the blond. Meanwhile the three big hunks were slowly trying to melt back into the vegetation.