tended to congregate was empty, two guys had moved off into the trees. One of them was a Mexican, about the same size and build as Silvio. It made his heart race, just as it had done the first couple of nights when he thought about what might have been going on with someone else.

Chris tried to focus on what he'd do with his weekend, what he'd do with his night, but every thought found him back at the same juncture. Try to meet someone else, try to move forward beyond the place he'd found himself in that bathroom before he'd gotten himself high - the best way to get over a man was to get under another. Someone approached brushing a hand slightly across his buttock before sliding into the shadows. The little electric touch seemed to turn on a switch connected to his cock. He followed the sound of the footfalls in front of him wondering when night had come. He'd been standing in a daze for hours, watching guys come and go, moaning in the sulking dark. He found himself being led farther from the old picnic area than he'd been but he didn't care. They came to a patch of brush and he saw the Mexican up close and in detail. "I'm Juan." Chris smiled receptively and watched Juan drop waist high and frantically slurp at the half flaccid prick he presented.

To be continued...