Gord walks with me along the seawall near Second Beach and reminisces about his favourite sexual escapades. He’s a jovial and gruffly handsome 50-year-old with cropped salt-and-pepper hair and piercing blue eyes. A self-described cruisaholic, Gord is totally unashamed of his voracious sexual appetite. He lives his sex life to the max. Walking past the washrooms seems to spark his memory:
“I was walking right about here last spring when I spotted a gorgeous Latino guy walking toward me with a girl. As they approached, the guy looked at me with unmistakable desire. I held his gaze as I walked past them. I turned for one more look exactly when he did, and we smiled in unison.
“He gave me a smoldering look and leaned seductively against the wall as the girl disappeared into the ladies room. I took my cue and walked up to him. Without a word, he motioned toward the cell phone on my hip. I handed it to him and he quickly entered his number.
“Our fingers touched as he passed my phone back, sending a jolt of excitement through me. He whispered, ‘Text me in an hour.’
“Hearing the toilet flush inside the ladies room, I turned and walked away. Exactly an hour later, I texted him my address and he immediately replied, ‘C U in 15’.
“And he came-and came, and came.”
The look in his eyes suggests Gord is reliving the experience in his mind.
“I’ve never seen anyone shoot that far or shoot that much!” he gushes. “I’m so glad I approached him even though he was with a woman.”
“That’s a pretty hot story,” I say. “Does it happen often? I mean, you picked up a straight guy right in front of his girlfriend!”
“Well, I don’t know if that was his girlfriend or not,” he replies. “I just know that he was cruising me, so I went for it. I’d say I’ve had sex with something like 2,000 guys so far in my life. Gay, bi or straight-these labels aren’t important. All men are horny.”
For Gord, cruising outside is the best way to hook up. I ask him if he’s ever tried cruising online or on the phone-sex lines. “Sure, I’ve tried them,” he says. “But nothing beats the real thing. No one out here in the real world can fake their looks and none of them can claim to be straight-acting when they’ve got their lips wrapped around my cock,” he laughs.
“It’s all about the chase for me,” he continues. “I get as much pleasure from the cruising as I do from the sex. I see a guy I like and the hunt is on. Sometimes they bite, sometimes they don’t. I don’t get upset if they don’t, ’cause there’s always another hottie coming around the corner.”
But it seems like cruising for sex in the great outdoors comes with an element of danger. People have been attacked and even killed.
“Have you ever had any problems?” I ask.
“I’ve been cruising for almost 40 years and I’ve never had trouble with the law or with gaybashers,” says Gord. “You’ve got to be subtle enough to avoid unwanted attention, but not so subtle that your guy doesn’t pick up your vibe.”
Gord says cruising is more of an art than a science. “We’re all sexual animals who enjoy hunting or being hunted,” he says. “You’ve got to go outside and let your animal instincts take over. Cruising is all about your eyes, your body language, and your self-confidence. Above all, you can’t be too picky. You’re cruising for sex, not true love. There are tons of hot experiences waiting to be had. Some are hotter than others, sure, but they’re all worth the effort.”
Paul sits across the table from me in a Davie St café. He is a demure blonde 30-year-old, sharply dressed in a pin-stripe suit and frameless glasses. Looking into his sultry green eyes, I surmise that beneath his shy demeanor he too is a sexual animal. I test my theory by asking him to tell me one of his favourite cruising stories:
“It was raining, so I was on the bus coming home from work. This sexy Asian skater boy got on and sat down directly across from me. He was listening to oversized headphones and tapping his foot to the beat.
“He looked at me with his big brown eyes and smiled. I quickly looked down. I’m so fucking shy,” says Paul with a shake of his head. “When I finally got the courage to look up, he was busy giving me a slow once-over, pausing with his eyes on my crotch. He tugged on his pants, making more room for something growing in there. I flushed with excitement. As I watched him adjust himself, my hard-on grew and pulsated in my suit pants. With some difficulty, taking care not to show my boner to everyone on the bus, I stood up to get off as we approached my stop. I turned, hoping to see him following, but he was looking in the other direction.
“I opened my umbrella and began walking toward my apartment building when suddenly I heard the sound of a skateboard hitting the sidewalk and rolling up behind me. I smiled as he smacked my ass playfully and rolled by. I admired him from behind. His jeans rode low enough to reveal a tantalizing bit of ass crack. He turned his head and caught me checking out his ass and flashed a huge grin, then spun around and came right back at me, stopping inches from my face.
“‘Wassup, stud?’ he asked.
“I tried to hide my nervousness and pointed upwards, saying, ‘This is my place. D-d-do you wanna come inside?’
“He smiled and said, ‘Fo sho. I thought you’d never ask.’
“He grabbed his skate with one hand, my ass with the other, and held on tight as we went inside. I couldn’t believe my luck or his endurance as he fucked me long and hard for the next two hours.”
Paul takes a sip of his tea, the corners of his mouth turned-up slightly. A look of cautious pride appears on his face. I have a feeling that his shy look is all part of his game-a tool he uses to lure in would-be cruisers-so that the apparent prey is actually the hunter.
“It’s clever of you to use your shyness to get exactly what you want,” I say, taking a chance with Paul.
He blushes and smiles seductively.
“What about romantic relationships?” I ask. “Don’t you miss falling in love? What if you were dating someone you had deep feelings for and he found out you were cruising strangers on the bus?”
It turns out Paul has already crossed that bridge.
“My boyfriend and I met the same way, so it’s really hot when it happens again with someone else,” he explains. “We know the importance of spontaneous and anonymous sex, so we have an agreement: we’re allowed to do it with strangers, but only once with each guy. Otherwise it could get complicated.”
“Wow! What an enlightened couple. Congratulations,” I say. “So what happens if your boyfriend is there when you bring a guy home?”
“He usually joins in,” says Paul with a wry smile. “Two cocks are better than one.”
My curiosity is piqued. “Hot,” I say. “Tell me more about how you get these strangers into your bed.”
“I’m not very aggressive when it comes to cruising, but I love getting cruised,” says Paul. “I just turn up my sexual energy, or animal magnetism, if you will. I give the guy a shy but sexy glance and if he looks interested then I look away as if to say, ‘Oh no I couldn’t possibly.’ I sometimes flash my wedding band as I play with my hair. I think that makes guys try even harder to get me.”
“And harder is better,” I joke.
“Exactly. Next I walk away and see if he comes after me. If he does, then he gets the prize,” says Paul. “I only want the guys with balls.”
“I see. So it’s survival of the fittest, Darwinism in action, on the Davie St bus,” I say.
We share another laugh and I thank Paul for talking with me. As he leaves the café, he turns and flashes me his killer smile, his weapon of mass seduction, his cruise missile.
Should I follow him?
My conversations with Gord and Paul make me think back to one of my own favourite cruising experiences, when I played a bit of both roles: the hunter and the seducer.
I was on the main beach at Wreck-in the least cruisey area-and I was about to play Scrabble with my two friends, Karen and James. I thought four would be a better number to play with, so I looked around until I spotted this cute young guy standing on the rocks behind us. He looked so hot, holding his beer and wearing nothing but a guitar.
He seemed a bit lonely, so I suggested that we invite him to join us. I waved the board in the air to get his attention. He looked behind him to make sure I wasn’t signaling someone else, then pointed to himself and mouthed, ‘Me?’ I nodded and beckoned him to come join us.
To my pleasant surprise, he took my bait and swaggered over like a hot naked cowboy. He sat down with us, moving his guitar out of the way to reveal his cock, almost as thick as the beer can in his hand, dangling between his legs. All of our eyebrows raised at once.
“Name’s Jeff,” he said. “Good to meet y’all.”
I’m not sure how long it took us to finally look up at his face and say hello.
We proceeded to play a rousing game of Scrabble, spelling the dirtiest words possible and trying to keep our eyes on the board and away from Jeff. He mentioned several times that he had a girlfriend, but that didn’t stop me from flirting playfully with him as we played.
For every VAGINA or BOOB he spelled on the Scrabble board, I countered with a VIRGIN or a BLOW. Just for fun. I knew he was straight. I just like to tease the boys sometimes. And he was totally oblivious to my subtle attempts at seduction, because right after the game ended, he thanked us and sauntered off down the beach to visit a couple of girls he knew.
My friends and I watched his beautiful butt until he disappeared into the thinning crowd. The pink sun sank further toward the horizon as we dished about what a total hottie Jeff was.
“You should’ve asked him to play his guitar for us,” I said to Karen.
“Me?” she protested. “He was more into you, Cory. You should’ve asked him.”
“No way, he’s totally straight,” I declared.
“Well, now’s your chance,” she said, looking over my shoulder. “He’s coming back.”
I turned and watched in astonishment as Jeff walked all the way back down the beach and sat down with us, beside Karen.
“Hey Jeff, play us a tune on your guitar” I said, giving Karen an I-told-you-so look.
Jeff said “sure” and strummed away, singing a beautiful love song that he wrote himself. It was quite a memorable moment: a beautiful sunset, a warm breeze and a gorgeous guy with a huge cock serenading the three of us.
Afterward, we were all packing up to leave when Jeff turned to me and said, “So, Cory, what are you doing now?”
Flabbergasted, I said I was going home to chill out, maybe rent a movie. He just stared at me with his puppy-dog eyes until I said, “Why? You wanna come with me?”
He smiled, looked down and kicked the sand and said, “Yeah sure.”
Karen glared at me, then smiled, knowing she’d guessed right. I said a quick goodbye to her and James, then sped back to my place with Jeff, hitting green lights all the way home.
Once inside, I grabbed us a couple of beers from the fridge. He thanked me, sat on the couch and said nervously, “So I guess I got myself in a bit of a situation here.”
I laughed and said “Hey, don’t worry, buddy, I’m not gonna force myself on you.”
He took another swig of beer and said, “What if I want you to?”
Wow, I thought to myself. This is better than I ever could’ve imagined! This supremely sexy and seemingly virginal guy has asked me to take him home and have my way with him.
I thanked my lucky stars for taking a chance by inviting a total stranger to join our group and then flirting with him throughout the Scrabble game even though he was obviously straight. My boldness and persistence were about to pay off, big time.
I sat beside him on the couch, watching the tent-pole in his shorts grow taller and taller. I slowly reached up inside his left pant leg, grabbed his throbbing thick cock and started gently stroking. He moaned and sat back on the couch with his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. I undid his Velcro fly and unleashed a monster like I’d never seen.
Within minutes, my talented mouth had turned his nervousness into pure lust. He slowly pushed me back onto the floor and showed me everything he could do with that massive jackhammer. It was the perfect ending to a cruising experience that I will never forget.