Most of my meet-ups as a nineteen-year-old had been in Nottingham’s toilets, where I enjoyed receiving mutual wanks and blow-jobs from different men. I wasn’t aware of other places where I could get similar pleasures until a man who was stroking me at a toilet in the city happened to mention a local cruising ground. It surprised him that I hadn’t been there and suggested that I visit it.

Woodland surrounds Nottingham’s Racecourse at Colwick, with cruising areas down by the river close to an old, ruined church. There is also another cruising place on the northern side of the racecourse, between the road and the racetrack, and it was here that I was about to discover sex among the trees for the first time.

I drove down the path, past some toilets on my left that I had never been in (they are no longer there), and into a small car park area close to where they start the six-furlong races on the straight part of the course. A few other cars were already there, and I assumed their occupants were probably somewhere in the woods. I parked up, stepped out into the warm July sunshine, and walked into the cooling shade of the wooded area. I quickly found, and followed, what appeared to be the main path.  It took me deeper into the woods and, as I walked, I became aware of someone behind me. I went a little further in before turning to see who was following.

It was a young man, about my age, who looked straight at me and said, “Don’t I know you?”

I recognised him as someone that I’d brought to a climax in the Forest Recreation Ground toilets a few weeks earlier!

“My name’s Steve,” he said, “I often come here because I reckon it’s the best place to cruise in the whole of Nottingham.”

 “This is the first time for me,” I said, “and I’ve just come down to see what it is like.”

“I know all the best spots where lots of action takes place,” said Steve, “come with me and I’ll show you where some of them are.”

My increasing excitement was making me hard as Steve led the way through the trees. My eyes focused on this dark-haired, good-looking guy’s attractive bum as he walked in front of me. He turned and pointed, “There’s a good place down here to the right, but watch the nettles!”

We left the main path and trampled over undergrowth towards a very secluded spot which, as we drew nearer, we could see was already occupied. A racing cycle leant against a tree and a lycra-clad cyclist was running his hands over the bare chest of a tall Sikh gentleman wearing a bright blue turban, with his shirt unbuttoned and his trousers round his ankles.

“Mind if we join you?” asked Steve, showing me how easy it was to make the first move!

We moved closer and Steve reached out and placed his hand over the cyclist’s bulge, whilst I fondled the Sikh’s loosely hanging balls.

Steve smiled at the young, fair-haired cyclist and put his hands under the waistband of his shorts before lowering them to the ground. He then began fingering his arse whilst I reached out to stroke the cyclist’s big, uncut penis. Steve wanted to fuck, so he dropped his trousers, rolled back his foreskin and pushed his cock into the willing hole of the cyclist who was now bending over and sucking on the Sikh’s cock. I stood back a little, undid my trousers and stroked my erection as I watched. The tip of my knob was now wet with pre-cum as this erotic scene unfolded.

The Sikh then turned his attention to me, squatting down to take the length of my shaft right down his throat and sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body. He was young, bearded, and sucked well as I looked down at the beautifully folded traditional headgear he was wearing. This added a whole new dimension to the fun!  He tickled my balls and ran his hands up and down my legs while the tip of his tongue kept touching the highly sensitive parts of my glans.

We then changed places, and I went down on him, wrapping my lips around his cock, and finding some spots with my tongue that made him shudder with delight. While continuing to suck him, I cupped one hand under his balls and fingered his arse with the other.  He gave a moan, then another, and very soon my mouth received several spurts of cum. It tasted good and I swallowed it all before he withdrew. Squeezing his foreskin, he gave me every last drop. He smiled, pulled up his trousers, thanked me and disappeared into the trees.

While this was going on, Steve was having the fuck of his life as he thrust furiously, with beads of perspiration covering his face. He took a small bottle of poppers from his pocket and drew a long breath into each nostril before deftly putting the cap back on whilst continuing to fuck the cyclist whose cock bounced up and down with the action. Steve moaned, uttered the words “I’m cumming!” and let out a final grunt as he sent his load flying into the cyclist’s anus. After taking a few moments to recover, Steve withdrew his softening cock which glistened with semen, the final drop hanging from the end of his foreskin.

“Your turn now,” said Steve with a wink, “I’ve prepared him for you!”

I moved towards the cyclist’s rear end and placed my erection into his open, dripping hole. The feelings that come over you at that particular moment are quite sublime, and you wish they could last forever. With Steve’s spunk acting as lube, my fucking made squelching sounds as I pounded the cyclist’s arse.  The sensations in my balls told me that I wouldn’t be lasting too long.

Steve watched me intently, and then took the cap off his bottle of poppers which he held out for me to use. First time for everything I thought, and breathed the vapours into each nostril as deeply as I could. I immediately entered a light-headed, dreamlike world, where the canopy of trees above my head appeared to sway. Warmth spread over my entire body under the influence of the poppers, and the pleasurable feelings coming from my groin intensified.  

My hand reached round to hold the cyclist’s erect penis which I began wanking for all it was worth. I then gripped the cyclist’s hips while he took over wanking himself. I thrust faster and harder with ever-increasing power until my climax was on its way.  With all inhibitions gone, my moans of pleasure rang out, along with those of the cyclist, as both our cocks discharged themselves simultaneously with explosive ejaculations that left us breathless. 

My heart thumped and my knees shook uncontrollably, as the world around me gradually returned to normality.  Unbeknown to me, Steve had positioned himself in such a way as to try and take the cyclist’s load in his mouth.  He managed to catch a bit, but most of the cum missed its target and finished up all over his face!

The cyclist departed, while Steve and I followed a different path that took us out of the woods. Emerging at the point on the racecourse where the 5-furlong races always started, we blinked in the sunshine and walked back along the racecourse itself to the car park, where we then went our separate ways.

That was my first cruising experience in those busy woods, and I loved it! I visited it often, and before long I knew the area like the back of my hand.  I had some memorable encounters there. The place still exists, but its glory days are now over, and I have seen little action there in recent years!