We watched the orgy of middle-aged men, all piled up and guzzling each other’s beer-can cocks.
Their asses were wide and sagging; their overweight bodies were covered in hair.
“Don’t tell our wives,” they joked between gulps.
No one could ever find these ugly guys attractive —
It was the “forbidden” aspect that made the spectacle so titillating.
They were too distracted to notice us, for which I was quite relieved.
“This isn’t our thing,” I said, and you nodded in agreement.
We took each other’s hand and walked down a secluded path together.
The sounds of the other men dissipated as we sat on a bench and embraced each other in silence.
I kissed your forehead lightly, and you pressed your lips against my cheek.
We looked at each other, smiled softly, and then you winked.
“Let’s go home, bruv,” you said, and we wandered off shoulder to shoulder.
Those guys would be so jealous of what we did that night.