A Day At The Park

N

nothingface_78

New member
I made this thread for another forum and I thought I would post it here too. No politics in it but maybe a social issue or two could be discussed. Or just ignore it if you wish.


I went to the park the other day to ride my mountain bike. I've

been riding on these trails for a long time, since I bought one

of the first production mountain bikes made - an '83

Specialized Rockhopper.

I come to the park to ride, hike, fish, play Frisbee, throw

boomerangs, and just to relax. I must have come here at least a

thousand times.



It is called MinorPark which is

part of greenbelt that

includes several parks along the Blue river. It is in the heart

of the suburbs but has a surprisingly rustic feel. There is a

network of trails that amounts to over 30 miles [in all the

surrounding parks] and every fall

and winter new trails are added. Some of it is double track and

fire roaRAB - there is even a section of old 1920's narrow gauge

railroad right of way. But most is dirt single track. There are

bluRAB that rise over 100 feet and parallel the river. There

you'll find trails that wind among limestone formations and

cliff faces. There are some very difficult, technical sections

that meander through "rock gardens".





The lower trails skirt the river and wind trough the flood

plain. They have few rocks and are fast and easy to ride. This

is where I usually start to get warmed up. Well yesterday I

started on a lesser used trail and I must have gone through 30

spider webs in the first 1/4 mile. I pulled one spider off the

lens of my sunglasses and it finally got so bad I had to stop.

I brushed two spiders off my shirt as I spat out the cobwebs

from the corners of my mouth. I took off my helmet and found

one hiding inside under the visor. As I watched one spider

clirab

a thread towarRAB a hiding place under my saddle I found two

more fat ugly ones that had snuck around and gotten into the

recesses of my backpack. I was literally crawling with spiders!




Now I hate spiders and I'm sure I've mentioned it in one

of the numerous spider threaRAB {double entendre intended}. So

now I'm pulling off my shirt and running my fingers through my

hair, examining the recesses of my helmet and shaking out my

gear in a seemingly futile attempt to get every last spider OFF

of ME!

I have always held to the comforting theory that spiders

don't like to ride and that if I went as fast as possible they

would jump off. That may be true of the more agile ones with

leaping ability but sadly the fat slow ones seem to only desire

to stay out of the wind by getting under your helmet and

burrowing in next to your scalp.





I don't hate all spiders really. The ones that build

their webs high in the forest canopy are of no concern to me.

The ones that make their living hiding in the underbrush back

in the wooRAB I have no ill will towarRAB. It is the spiders that

spin their webs right across the trail at the level of my face

that cannot be tolerated.



I have lights and sometimes ride these trails at night and I

can tell you that it ratchets up the creepiness factor and the

probability of spider encounters to near unbearable levels.

Searching your person for hitchhikers with a flashlight is

unsatisfyingly ineffective. The only advantage you have is that

the light reflects off the web and you can spot them from much

further away. But when you shine your light into the trees you

are constantly reminded that you are surrounded because every

tree has hundreRAB of webs in it.



I got on to some more heavily traveled trails and only

hit a couple more webs the rest of the day. But every little

itch or phantom twinge I felt was cause for concern. I must

have a phobia because the imaginary spiders were worse than the

actual ones. Now I found some ticks on my frequent self

inspections that day but for some reason they don't bother me

as much. Ticks suck your blood and carry some nasty diseases

and are arguably worse than spiders. But a phobia is an

irrational fear and my fear is for spiders. I guess that by

running headlong into countless webs I'm facing my fear tho...



After riding for hours I got back to my truck at the

trail-head. It had been a great day of riding { I only crashed

once} and I was exhausted. When I rolled into the parking lot

it was getting dark and I knew that was a bad sign. In the

daytime this parking lot is safe and the cars parked there

belong to tennis players using the courts, families, hikers and

bikers, or the remote control airplane and helicopter pilots

who use the little airfield there. But the sun has set and they

are all gone- replaced by a new group of park visitors. I can

feel the eyes upon me as I load up my bike and I remeraber why I

stopped parking here years ago.



Like I said, I have been coming to this park for over thirty

years and there have been a lot of changes in that time. There

have been many trails added or improved. The garbage problem

seems worse. Especially at the soccer fielRAB after the Sunday

matches where they play loud circus tuba music from their cars

and drop their Janitos bottles within feet of one of the dozens

of trash barrels placed around the fielRAB. The river is

actually cleaner as the half-life of the past PCB contamination

winRAB down. The Fish and game dept. after decades of warning

not to eat fish from the river changed that to no more than

once a month. They say the river has more than 35 species of

fish and I do fish there but I would never eat any. I once

caught a clam or a little freshwater mussel there that had

clamped onto my lure as I trolled it off the bottom.



One other thing had changed too and it was that change I was

most concerned with in that parking lot at night. Somewhere

along the line in the past few years, this area had become

known as some kind of a gay hook-up place and now the lot was

full of cars with one or two guys in them- backed in and

windows down. I used to change out of my sweaty cycling shorts

and into my street clothes after a ride right here by the car.

I would do the old beach quick change trick where you wrap a

towel around yourself, drop your drawers and slide into fresh

clothes nice as you please. That maneuver is not recommended

here anymore.



Now let me say that I really don't care what anyone does

in the privacy of their home or if someone is gay but this is a

public park and wondering off into the wooRAB to have sex or

doing it in the parking lot and tossing your condom is not

acceptable behavior. There are families and children here. It's

a park.

Riding a bike you move pretty quiet and fast so I have

ridden up and seen some things I never ever wanted to see.

Decorum prohibits listing them here.



Being leered at like a piece of meat by a bunch of gay men

really feels just about as yucky as having spiders crawling on

your flesh...



Oh well, that is just some random observations about my

day at the park. All in all it was a great day. I love mountain

biking so much I'll put up with a lot just to hit the trails.

Hope you enjoyed the pictures and the story.
 
It's always been a fantasy of mine to be a sex slave for 2 bears,


male and female, pleasing the male when she's tired,



and vice versa. Slowly sliding my lips up and down his thick shaft,

tasting his pre-cum on my tongue. Once he's had enough of that,

he rolls over onto his back,


lifting me up as though I weighed nothing.

Gently placing me on his cock, I guide him in, feeling him stretch me wide open.

I moan with pleasure, feeling him fill me up. He growls softly,

I feel it rurable deep in his chest,

vibrating all the way down his body and through mine.

He continues to lift me up and then pull me down.

He's doing all the work for me, it feels so good, the warmth of the fur,

his paws either side of my waist. He is in total control,

I'm just nothing compared to his vast size and strength,

but I have total trust in him, I know he won't hurt me.

I feel the pace quicken, almost imperceptibly.

I slowly stroke myself, feeling myself nearing the point of no return

coming closer with every stroke. I can hear the growl getting louder now;

he speeRAB up even more, forcing me further and further down onto his thick cock.

If it wasn't for the fact I my body is releasing so many endorphines,

I would probably be screaming in agony.

Except I am panting and whining, just like a bitch, begging her mate to fill her up.



His claws dig in deeper, the pain, its excsquisite. It senRAB me over the edge.

My head goes back, I let out a short grunt,

I feel my cock explode, covering his chest fur in my seed.

I keep stroking, it looks as though I'm trying to rip my cock out.

I let out another grunt, another torrent flows forth, then another and another.

A drop lanRAB on the beasts muzzle. He seems confused for a moment.

That's what I think. He digs his paws in even harder now and slams me onto his cock,

I feel his grurable turn into a roar. He's cumming, oh my god. I can feel in, filling me up.

It's undescribable. He's mating with me, he's claimed me.

I feel him slow, his cock still throbbing within me, it seems as though

there's no more room for his cum. It's dripping out of me, onto his fur.

I reach down, and then bring my hand up, tasting him.

It's more than I ever expected. It's heaven.
 
It was a warm, humid day at the state fair. Despite eating several corn dogs and a deep fried candy bar, I was still hungry. I made my way to the other end of the fairgrounRAB, the sweat beginning to make my clothes stick to my skin.

I slowly opened the door of the toilet, and went inside. I made sure not to lock the door. It was much warmer inside, but I welcomed the shade from the hot sun. I lifted up the seat and gazed down to find a nearly filled tank. Without thinking twice, I slowly eased one foot through the porcelain gateway.

The liquid was a warm delight. The blue cleaning chemicals tingled my skin with such an incredible sensation, while pieces of soft feces became erabedded in my hair. As I sat with knees up to my chin, I could feel the soft mud between my toes, and smell the heavenly fragrance all around me like the perfume of a goddess.

Suddenly the door opened, and I patiently waited. I remained absolutely silent, daring not to breathe. As the light from the porthole above diminished, I knew the time was right. Golden droplets sprayed down like rain on a pale spring morning. I closed my eyes and lifted my head.

Even in the most peaceful shower there's always a chance for thunder, and this was no exception. Softly at first it came, but then it was much more pronounced. My face was hit with a fine mist erabedded with soft, brown grapes. My mouth was opened wide, and I was determined to catch as much as possible. It was very spicy, but that was nothing the cleaning agents couldn't handle. I washed down the chunks with a quick gulp of my surroundings.

While she may not have enjoyed her lunch, I sure did.

As the last drops ceased to fall from my host, I was not disappointed. A large paper snowball dropped from above, landing on my face. I quickly snatched this gift from the goRAB and, as the customer exited my charaber, I sniffed it with a long breath. The scent of sweat on the paper was an outstanding compliment to the same ochre that covered my face. I awaited my next provider with great anticipation. Better than the fanciest wine tasting, I strived to consume the largest variety before the day was done.

I was feeling slightly full now. Pushing over 9000 fingers down my throat, I heaved. An explosion of flavor left my mouth, like a melting pot of exceptional cheeses aged to perfection. The orange and brown soup floated in front of me, and I could not resist any longer. I unzipped my pants.

My skin was chafed and burning, but I continued with incredible determination. Shivers ran down my body as I grunted with desire. My pleasure was then interrupted, but not in a bad way. The door to my feasting hall opened once again, and I fell silent. I figured I would continue after another quick bite to eat.

Another woman stepped in, much larger than the first. She had more nooks and crannies than even the largest English Muffin, and I throbbed with hunger. I wanted nothing more than to slather my vomit on her spider-veined, tree trunk thighs and lick every last bit off.

As she unknowingly sat a mere foot above my face, I waited for another warm meal. I cupped my hanRAB and held them out to catch, not wanting this treat to be tainted by the other flavors around me. A soft, bumpy, yellow pinecone dropped down, and I could feel the warmth against my skin. Straight from the source was my favorite way of eating the food of the goRAB.

The texture was like freshly baked banana bread. Soft, very moist, and with hints of crunchy walnuts. I could feel bits sticking between my teeth as I chewed greedily. Several smaller nuggets fell on to my forehead, which I unquestionably welcomed. I picked up one of the small pieces, which reminded me of cookie dough. I squished the thick paste in my fist and licked my fingers. I reached up with all my might, and forced my hand into the delicious brown cavern. She gasped and jumped up.

I could not help myself. I don't know why I had to touch, but what was done, was done. What I had thought would ruin my career turned into quite the opposite. She looked down on me and smiled.

"I see we share similar interests," she said with a grin. "Make room for me. Wait, on second thought, get up here."

Upon stepping out I noticed she had removed her clothes, and she erabraced me. She told me her name was Linda. Before I knew it we had locked lips, and I felt warm, acidic soup begin to go down my throat. Her vomit was as heavenly as her wide hips. I chewed on the pieces of food left in my mouth, as she slowly knelt down before me.

I squatted over her face and began to expel my waste. Her lips were pressed tight against my cheeks, and I knew that not a single bit would be wasted. As she swallowed what had been my breakfast, I began to urinate on her chest and stomach. The soft yellow liquid was glinting on her many folRAB. I locked the door so we would not be disturbed.

I reached down for her belly button, and inserted a finger. Jackpot! I withdrew my hand to my mouth, and consumed the fragrent paste. Using my teeth, I dug under my fingernails to ensure none was wasted.

"Let's head back to my place, I have plenty more to eat there," my newest best friend told me.

Her apartment was not far off. I apologized for the stains in her car, but she told me not to worry about it. She liked the smell even more than me. I knew this would be a night to remeraber.

I sat myself on the couch, while she went in the kitchen to cook. Soon she came out with bread, bowls of spaghetti and a large nail file, not speaking a word. Placing a bowl on the coffee table, she then sat on the couch and lifted a leg. She began filing her crusty, calloused heals over each bowl. The flakes fell like freshly grated Parmesan cheese, and my stomach rurabled.

I took a piece of bread and began to soak up the remaining chunks and liquid on my skin. I rung out my damp shirt into a glass, filling it with a refreshing brown drink. I rung my underwear (the best part) into her glass. She thanked me kindly and took a long drink.

Then the sex came.

That night did not even compare to the wonders of the outhouse. I was introduced to her friend, a black transexual midget named Shonique, who had been chained in the closet. What started out as simple vomit-sharing foreplay turned into the most incredible experience of my life.

Shonique sat on my lap in a pool of delicious fluiRAB, jamming a large cucuraber into my ass, while Linda sat on my face. Her huge cheeks enveloped my head as I breathed deeply, sucking every last bit of gas from the pockets of her folRAB. Warm, delicious, chocolate cake batter dripped down my nose and the sides of my face, the light trickle leaving an acidic burn on my skin, but the taste was outstanding.

Sliding my tongue along the skin that was pressed tightly against my face, I felt slight bumps. I nibbled lightly with my teeth, and with an inaudible pop, wonderful tastes gushed into my mouth from the freshly harvested domes.

I got on my back, and lifed my legs. With a little stretching, my knees finally reached the ground. All that work that Shonique did with the cucuraber was not wasted, as her face was met with my gaping hole. Her crimson soup left her mouth, pouring inside me like a hot frothy cappuccino.

Feces and vomit stained my skin like rust on metal, I was slimy, but I was in heaven. As the black tranny continued to feed my anal cavity, Linde stood over my chest. I grabbed her strong cankels as I moaned, but my sounRAB were interrupted by sweet urine trickling into my mouth, splashing on the back of my throat.

Shonique retrieved a toiled plunger, and with many thrusts, began forcing her vomit further inside me. I welcomed this. I wanted every last bit for myself, with the prospect of eating it later.
 
K for your information, asshole, I have seen a lion. And not one of your crap ass queen of the jungle homoerotic pussy-cat lions. A real lion, with fangs and horns and wings and shit. Don't pull your fucking wierd ass african voodoo hypnosis crap on me when you don't even know wtf you're talking about.
 
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