It was one of those mild, balmy evenings; late June, I seem to remember. It must have been about 1993, I was in my mid-20s and still living at home and blessed with health and virility that I’d give anything for today. I’d had a few pints and a good laugh with my mates, and was enjoying the 15 minute walk home. There was still a faint strip of daylight on the horizon, but the alleyway I used as a shortcut home was pitch dark. This was before the days of mobile phones, and I had no traditional torch but I knew the path well. I treaded carefully, relying on muscle memory and knowing that at some point I’d be able to use the faint glow from the street lights at the other end of the alleyway as a handy beacon. My compromised vision heightened my hearing, and I was aware of all manner of rustlings and noises coming from the woods that the alleyway divided. I wasn’t phased and assured myself that the sounds were no doubt just small animals having a late night forage, and certainly of no danger to me. I recognised a familiar turn and incline underfoot that told me I was on the home strait. I looked ahead and strained my eyes, searching out the aforementioned exit to the alleyway. What I saw made me slow my pace, as I was certain I could see a silhouetted figure ahead of me. As I slowed I realised there was indeed a man at the top of the alley, and realised he was stationary. As I got closer I started to purposely scuff my feet, in an attempt to announce my presence. By now I was about 20 feet away, and could see that this guy was obviously having a piss. Charming. Mind you, if you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. Once I was close enough I could see that he wasn’t actually pissing. He was about late 30s, had a shaved head and wearing a white vest top and what looked like nylon running shorts. And he was just standing with his cock out. He finally looked up and grunted an “alright?” at me. Somewhat perplexed I muttered good evening, and stopped in my tracks. My eyes were becoming accustomed to the faint orange glow coming from the street ahead, and when I looked closer at him I realised that he was actually masturbating. Not furiously wanking, but just pulling his cock slowly. He wasn’t erect, but his prick was long and floppy, hanging over the waistband of his sorts that he was holding down with the thumb of his other hand. Almost immediately I felt somewhat aroused, and took his brazenness as a signal to stop and watch. “What on earth are you doing?! What if someone sees you?” I asked. “It’s fine, there’s nobody about. It feels good”, he said. By now his cock had become semi erect. “Fancy joining me?” I did. I didn’t feel comfortable there. I knew there was a hole in the fencing at the top of the alley, so we slipped through that and found a pile of soft leaves at the base of a tree. He pulled his shorts off and stood in front of me, just in his vest and DMs, and wiggled his hips from side to side. His prick must have been a good 8 inches, and was now rock hard and pointing upwards. I reached out and wrapped my hand around the base, and cupping his arse with my other hand I pulled him towards me. His hard cock felt good against my bulging packet, and I could feel the slippery precum from his tip sliding across my belly as he he stuck his prick under my T-shirt. He unbuttoned my fly and placed his cock through the zipper of my jeans and the opening of my shorts. We stood there grinding, and his wet helmet encircled mine in my boxers. He lifted off my T-shirt and stroked my bare back with his hands and forearms, and by now we were kissing passionately. “Oh god this is so hot”, I breathed, and pulled down my jeans and shorts. He immediately fell to his knees, and was soon gobbling and sucking my cock, which felt electrified with excitement. Slowly his tongue worked around the circumference of my helmet, and he used his thumbs to gently pull open my piss slit, flicking his tongue in and out. I stroked his head and held his ears as he continued to suck me hard, stopping now and then to hold my cock with both hands, while he slurped and kissed my helmet, and doing his magic tongue thing. I desperately wanted to try it on him. We switched places, and soon I I was sucking on his gorgeous prick. He seemed to love the piss-slit licking as much as I did, and feeling his cock jerking with each stab of my tongue darting in and out of his sweet, salty hole was a real turn on. My cock throbbed and bounced hands-free as I sucked him, stroking his hard smooth stomach and brushing the underside of his bollocks with the back of my fingers. We switched again and then lay on our sides, sucking each other slowly. After a while he said he wanted me to make him cum. I sat against the tree, and he reverse-spooned into me so I could reach around and wank him off. I licked and kissed his ears and neck, stroking his chest and torso with one hand and pulling his long hard prick with the other. He pushed against me so my cock was essentially being wanked between his back and my stomach. Eventually my cock exploded with one of the most earth shattering orgasms I’ve ever had. About seven or eight hot wet jets shot up his back and over his left shoulder. As my cum dropped down onto his chest he started to groan - I knew he was about to shoot. I slowed down, and with one final slow, hard pull down, he unleashed a monster cumshot. I pumped a few more times and his thighs quivered as yet more cum flew from the end of his prick. Once we’d both finished we enjoyed one last snog and... that was that. We went our separate ways. By the time I got home I was so hard and horny I had to have another wank. I never saw him again but it definitely ignited my life-long live of wanking late at night in the woods.