Anonymous
Sat, 27 Oct 01, 7:01 PM
It was on the way home, already late quite half two o'clock near the parliament building , a darkly , a diffused light like the ancient gas lamps, only a vague glow of the park lights. The mild summernight left some whispering of hidden couples in love , but you couldnt see near the walls however no more human beings. Only the burble of a fountain seemed constantly. Strangely only, that there just in front of my feet a liquid trace seeped. Did children play now? Frightened I stopped. A young man emerged amazingly near me. He seemed not walking in a continous way, had to stop again and again. Was he drunk or under the influence of drugs ? Internally I gave a signal of distance... now I guessed more than I could see it were the mans shoes a sort of source of the trickling little stream . The man must have begun even without any gesture to pee into his bright long cotton trousers. Suddenly the inside of his crotch became raid-like rapidly darker and darker and the traitorous triangle between fly and knees darkened. At the right knee visible, the piss flowed down into the socks and the shoes: now there was no more doubt: the dark-blond Twen had have letting go automatically I was surprised by the intimate situation between men I didnt have to go to . The man, shocked from the helpless running pee, now rowed with his arms and hands slowly . I vanished for going away and did not know not whether I should grin or remain serious...