Thanks for the comments on my last tale - I can assure you that all this really happened in my youth almost 30 years ago now, in a park in SE London which some may remember before they knocked down the toilets... Having discovered what went on in the toilets, I spent a considerable part of those summer holidays either in there or watching. As mentioned, they sat in the corner of a park at the bottom of a hill, so it was quite easy to sit on the hill overlooking them, watching the men coming and going through the day. Often, pairs of men would leave and walk into the park, and then disappear into the bushes. Naturally, I followed discreetly quite often, and was treated to the sight of them having sex. I\\\'d watch quietly, and then afterwards go and look at their spunk on the ground. After doing this on one occasion, I realised that I was myself being watched. Feigning innocence, I got my book out, sat down and started to read, although I was accutely aware of my little hard-on straining against the front of my shorts. The guy watching me was stood in bushes just looking. I sat down on a tree stump and carried on my pretence that I was unaware of his presence, although in fact I was watching avidly from the corner of my eye. I was aware of him circling through the bushes until he was almost directly ahead of me at the edge of the clearing. He must have been in his mid to late 50\\\'s, quite short but with a bald head. He was stood there facing me about 10 yards away, clearly unsure what to do and standing right on the edge of the bushes. Keeping a hold on my book with one hand, I reached down and eased my hard-on against my shorts with the other before continuing to \\\'read\\\'. This seemed to galvanise him into action, and when I glanced up again, he had his trousers pushed down around his knees and was leaning against a tree, his stiff cock in his hand as he stroked it. I was fascinated, scared and horny in equal measures! Being only young, I didn\\\'t know what to do, so I kept watching him, every now and then reaching down and giving my own cock a quick squeeze. He must have known how nervous I was, or else was worried about my apparent age: although I was 18-ish, I knew I looked several years younger. After what seemed an age, he came forwards out of the bushes and moved to within about 15 feet of me: I didn\\\'t know whether to run, and if I did run, whether it should be towards or away from him! He must have sensed my nervousness, because he stopped there, directly facing me, with what seemed like an enourmous cock sticking out in front of him. It wasn\\\'t more than about 7\\\" long, but it was incredibly thick. By now, I\\\'d given up the pretence that I was reading, and instead was openly staring at him wanking. I wasn\\\'t brave enough to get my own cock out, but I did have my hand over it, rubbing the front of my shorts gently. He could clearly see what I was doing, and as I speeded up my own wanking, so he speeded up too. Soon he was pounding his prick with one hand as he squeezed his balls with the other. I was so horny just watching and was loving it: I don\\\'t think my little 5 inches had ever been so hard. \\\"Show me\\\", he said, \\\"I won\\\'t come any closer\\\", and with that, I pulled down the front of my shorts, my little hairless prick pointing straight up before I took it in my hand and began wanking it quickly. He let out a stifled groan, and with that, speeded up his wanking before suddenly stopping his hand.I was so horny that I couldn\\\'t stop, and before I knew it I was shooting my come out in a jet, spurt after spurt of it shooting across my legs and landing with a splat in the leaves and grass. He put his hand to his still rampant prick and just gently stroked it once or twice. I swear I could see his balls tighten as his cock twitched in his hand, and his impressive load spurted out, shooting almost half the distance between us to join mine on the grass. His eyes were rivetted on my small, wet prick as he spurted come again and again until, finished, he sank down on his haunches in the grass, the last few drops of his spunk running off his helmet and down his shaft. I suddenly became aware of what I\\\'d just done, and felt strangely confused and ashamed of myself. I rapidly made my excuses and left, but it was not the last I was to see of that bloke.