There are undoubtedly other faggots out there who will fully understand the thrill of sucking cock and getting fucked openly, in the shade of a tree, but not in its concealment, in a public park, next to the soccer field, no game in progress, but not without those several early morning devotees, practicing their kicks into the net.

Sunday mornings, before church with their families, men park, with their doors open, awaiting faggots like me, unafraid to perform their calling, their service, in broad daylight, in public, for all to see. Here, where I currently reside, even between 8:00 and 9:00, it is already hot, between 100 and 110 degrees. Most men just want their cocks sucked; some want a blowjob prior to a fuck; some just want to fuck.

Dutifully, gratefully, after the briefest of cordialities, their soft cocks exposed, in invitation, I drop to my knees, to suck the cocks of men I have never seen before, and will likely never see again. I have been doing this all my life. It is so much more than just sex. It is a way of life, a devotion, a religion, a communion, and a communication. Sucking cock is the best way I can demonstrate absolute adoration for a man, even a complete stranger. I like to spend a long time with a cock, balls, and butthole. I want to get to know them intimately, every shape and dimension, every taste, every smell. When I get my reward of a mouthful of cum, I want to know deep down that that gift has been earned. Yes, I always get the reward, however long it takes. Of course, I am grateful for those who cum quickly, too, but it is so nice to surrender my whole being to the intensive, undistracted, loving worship of a cock that requires extra persuasion, as it has just fucked another man or woman.

Remember, I am on my knees in a parking lot, leaning in through the open door to reach the cock of the man seated in the driver's seat of his vehicle. If he is fucking me, I am leaning against the side, over the hood, or over the trunk of his car, all in the same parking lot. Other cars drive by occasionally, of course. It is public, after all.

Adding to the exhilaration, is the simple coincidence – or nearly so – of the temperature of the air, the temperature of the cocks, the temperature of the cum, the temperature of the pee – if I am so fortunate – as if the entire universe were joining me in these blissful acts of mutual fulfilment – the men, in their ejaculations, their eliminations, and me, in my service as their faggot.

Evenings are also busy at the park, but I do not prefer the cloak of darkness, hiding in shadows. I want to be seen being the faggot I am, the faggot I have always been.

Last Sunday, just yesterday, I sucked the cocks of six strangers; four of them fucked me, too. When I left the park on my Vespa, the smell of cock in my moustache and chin beard, the taste of cock and cum on my lips and tongue, my tummy filled with the semen, the sperm of strange men, I felt transcendentally euphoric. Much of the joy I feel comes from having openly, publicly, unapologetically performed sexual services for the pleasure of men; services for which I was destined to perform, born to perform, bred and raised to perform.