Park Bench Cuckold Confessions

Malcy and Pete are an elderly gay couple who have been together for 20 years, 17 of which were spent as a married couple. They are still very happy together and very much in love, but their sex life is nonexistent. This is partially because Malcy suffers from Erectile Dysfunction and also has difficulty in exciting his partner. To overcome this they have been using a gay dating app to find younger guys to satisfy Pete’s sexual needs and Malcy's desire for extreme humiliation and embarrassment. They agree to meet a young virile guy with a huge cock in a public toilet in a park late at night. Very risky but they are fixated with the cuckold scene.

The park was deserted, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows across the wet pavement. Malcy adjusted his scarf nervously, his breath visible in the cold night air. Beside him, Pete squeezed his hand—reassurance, excitement, both. “You sure about this?” Pete murmured, though they both knew the answer. Malcy swallowed hard, nodding. The thrill of humiliation coiled low in his gut, twisting with anticipation. The app had promised them a *real* man—some college kid with a cock thick enough to make Pete forget Malcy’s limp, useless dick. The toilet block loomed ahead, graffiti-scarred and reeking of piss. Inside, a tall silhouette leaned against the sinks, arms crossed. “Took you long enough,” the guy drawled. He was younger than his profile suggested, all sharp jawline and cocky smirk. His jeans were already unbuttoned, the bulge beneath straining against the denim. Pete’s breath hitched. Malcy’s knees trembled. The stranger grinned, stepping closer. “So. Who’s first?” Malcy opened his mouth, but Pete was already sinking to his knees.

Malcy was surprised that Pete had submitted so quickly and didn't know where to look. As the submissive in the partnership he waited instruction from their date (Justin)

Malcy’s pulse hammered in his throat as he watched Pete press his face against Justin’s crotch, nuzzling the thick outline of his cock through denim. The younger man chuckled, running a hand through Pete’s silver hair like he was petting a dog. “Good boy,” Justin purred, his gaze flicking to Malcy. “You just gonna stand there, old man?” Malcy’s face burned. He’d imagined this moment a hundred times—Pete on his knees for someone else, *needing* someone else—but the reality was dizzying. His own limp cock twitched pathetically in his trousers. Justin popped his button, shoving his jeans down just enough to free his erection. Thick, flushed, *perfect*. Pete moaned as Justin gripped the back of his head and guided him forward. “Open,” Justin commanded. Pete obeyed instantly, lips parting. Malcy bit back a whimper as Justin shoved himself deep, Pete’s throat bulging around the intrusion. Justin smirked, still holding Malcy’s stare. “Your turn.” He jerked his chin toward the filthy tile floor. “Down.” Malcy’s knees hit the ground before he even realized he’d moved.

Oh my God this wasn't in the playbook. Malcy wasn't supposed to get sexual pleasure. He was there to be humiliated. Pete wasnt happy but decided to let it go to see what might happen next!

Pete’s eyes narrowed as Malcy sank to his knees beside him, his breath ragged with excitement. This wasn’t part of the deal—Malcy was just supposed to *watch*, to feel the sting of inadequacy while Pete serviced a real man. But the way Malcy’s hands trembled, the way his lips parted eagerly, sent a sharp twist of irritation through Pete’s gut. Justin didn’t seem to care. He gripped Malcy’s chin, forcing his mouth open with his free hand while the other kept Pete’s head bobbing on his cock. “Look at you,” Justin sneered, shoving his thick length past Malcy’s lips. “Pathetic. Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, huh?” Malcy moaned around the intrusion, his eyes fluttering shut. Pete’s jaw tightened—he could feel the vibrations of Malcy’s pleasure against Justin’s thigh. Justin laughed, fucking both their mouths in rhythm. “Fuck, you two are *made* for this.” Pete’s fingers dug into his own thighs, torn between fury and fascination. Malcy wasn’t supposed to *enjoy* this. But the way Justin used them—like toys, like nothing—was too hot to stop now. He’d deal with Malcy later.

Pete began to worry what would happen if someone were to come in. Malcy and he were completely naked on their knees. Justin just had to zip up and leave if anyone came by. They'd passed several late night dog walkers on the way there. Pete looked around and couldn't see their clothes anywhere. He hadn't spotted Justin do anything with them. He was beginning to get nervous but it just added to the thrill as he waited to see what Justin would do to him next?

Pete’s pulse spiked as a distant bark echoed from the alleyway outside. The abandoned locker room’s flickering fluorescents made their nakedness feel even more exposed—two older men on their knees, lips stretched around Justin’s cock, while he stood fully clothed, lazily thrusting between their mouths. Justin chuckled, fingers tightening in Pete’s hair. “Hear that?” He rocked deeper into Malcy’s throat, making him gag. “Someone’s close.” Pete’s stomach clenched. Their clothes were *gone*—no way to cover up if someone pushed through the rusted door. The thought sent a sick thrill up his spine. Justin pulled out of Malcy’s mouth with a wet pop, dragging his cock across Pete’s cheek. “Bet you’d fucking love that, huh?” He smirked down at them. “Some stranger walking in, seeing you two like this.” Malcy whimpered, his own cock stiff between his thighs. Pete swallowed hard. The danger was undeniable—but so was the heat pooling low in his gut. Justin’s grin widened. “Let’s make it interesting.” He unzipped his fly the rest of the way, stepping back. “Hands behind your heads. Don’t move.” The command sent a fresh wave of panic—and arousal—through Pete. Footsteps scraped outside. Closer now.

Despite the risk Pete and Malcy were ecstatic which was obvious by their erections - a first for Malcy in months. The footsteps fell silent outside. Then they heard them move on. Had they seen them? Might someone else come by. What would Justin do next. Where were their clothes?

Justin exhaled sharply, his smirk turning predatory as the footsteps faded. "Guess they didn’t want a show." He dragged his thumb along Pete’s lower lip, smearing spit. "Or maybe they did—just didn’t have the balls to stay." Malcy shuddered, his cock twitching against his thigh. Pete could see the flush creeping down his chest—embarrassment, excitement, both. Justin stepped back, surveying them. "Clothes are gone. Burned ‘em." He shrugged like it was nothing. "Figured you wouldn’t need ‘em." Pete’s breath hitched. The reality sank in—no way out, no cover. Just them, exposed and at Justin’s mercy. Justin unbuckled his belt slowly, letting it slither free. "Since you’re both so fucking eager..." He looped the leather around Malcy’s throat, yanking him forward. "Let’s see how loud you can be." A fresh bark echoed outside. Closer this time. Pete’s cock throbbed. Justin laughed. "Hope you like an audience."

The noises within had attracted some attention. They all looked to the door to see two elderly dog walkers watching the proceedings. They had their phones out filming but indicated they would play no part in the sex. They just wanted to watch. Pete was horrified but the audience just made Malcy even more excited. Malcy was keen to see his husband used and abused in front of the audience.

The door creaked open wider, revealing the two elderly spectators—phones raised, eyes gleaming with voyeuristic delight. Pete’s stomach twisted, his face burning under their gaze. But Malcy? He moaned, arching his back shamelessly, his cock dripping onto the grimy floor. Justin didn’t miss a beat. He tightened the belt around Malcy’s throat, forcing a choked gasp from him. “Looks like we’ve got fans,” he purred, dragging Pete forward by the hair until his face was level with his cock. “Show ‘em how good you suck.” Pete hesitated—just for a second—before the humiliation lit a fire in his gut. He opened his mouth, letting Justin thrust deep, his throat convulsing around the intrusion. The wet, obscene sounds filled the locker room, mingling with the old men’s murmurs of approval. Malcy whimpered, his hips jerking. “Fuck—*fuck*—let them see him,” he begged, voice ragged. “Let them see what you do to him.” Justin grinned, twisting the belt tighter. “Oh, they will.” He pulled Pete off his cock with a slick pop, turning him toward the door. “Hands and knees. Now.” Pete obeyed, trembling as the cold air hit his exposed skin. Behind him, Justin spat into his palm, slicking his length. The spectators leaned in, phones adjusting for a better angle. Malcy’s breath came in short, eager pants. “*Ruin him*.” Justin didn’t hesitate. He drove into Pete in one brutal thrust, drawing a sharp cry from him—half pain, half delirious pleasure. The old men chuckled, recording every filthy second. Pete’s fingers scraped the concrete, his cock swaying, untouched and leaking. The audience’s eyes burned into his skin, but it was Malcy’s hungry stare that sent him over the edge—knowing his husband was *loving* this. Justin leaned down, biting Pete’s shoulder. “Louder,” he growled. “Let ‘em hear how much you love it.” Another bark echoed outside. Closer. No one cared.

Justin told Malcy to offer to suck the dog walkers off - or anything else they wanted. Pete screamed part in pain from the size of Justin's cock but also from the pleasure he was receiving. He hadnt been so turned on for years. Although at the back of his mind he was worried about how they were going to get home without any clothes. He hoped Justin wasn't finished with them yet though.

Justin’s grip tightened in Pete’s hair, yanking his head back as he fucked him harder, the slap of skin echoing off the locker room walls. “Malcy,” he growled, voice rough with exertion. “Go ask those old fucks if they want a turn—mouth, hands, whatever the hell they’re into.” Malcy didn’t hesitate. He staggered forward on shaky legs, his cock bobbing, still slick with pre-cum. “You heard him,” he panted, grinning at the spectators. “You want in?” One of the men licked his lips, adjusting his phone with one hand while the other fumbled at his belt. “Been a while since I had a pretty thing on his knees,” he admitted, his voice thick with hunger. Pete’s moan hitched into a scream as Justin bottomed out inside him, the stretch bordering on unbearable—but god, the *fullness*, the way his body clenched around Justin’s cock like it was made for it. His own dick dripped untouched, twitching with every brutal thrust. The second dog walker stepped closer, his wrinkled hands trembling as he reached for Malcy. “Always preferred a tight hole myself,” he muttered, eyes locked on Pete’s wrecked body. Justin laughed, breath hot against Pete’s ear. “Guess you’re getting *both* tonight, baby.” He pulled out just enough to make Pete whimper, then slammed back in, drawing another ragged cry. Pete’s mind spun—between the pain, the pleasure, and the sheer *filth* of it all, he couldn’t think straight. The idea of those gnarled hands on him, those withered mouths— His cock jerked, spilling onto the floor beneath him. Justin groaned, hips stuttering. “Fuck, that’s it—*squeeze* me like that—” Malcy dropped to his knees in front of the first man, already working his pants open. The sound of wet sucking filled the air, mingling with Pete’s gasps and Justin’s ragged breathing. The second spectator shuffled closer, his fingers tracing Pete’s trembling thigh. “Mind if I…?” Justin’s grin was feral. “Be my guest.” Pete braced himself—but the sharp *slap* of a palm against his ass still made him yelp. The old man chuckled, rubbing the stinging flesh. “Nice and red for us, huh?” Justin’s thrusts turned erratic, his grip bruising. “Gonna fill you up,” he snarled. “Then let *them* clean you.” Pete’s vision blurred. He didn’t care about the clothes. Didn’t care about getting home. All that mattered was the cock splitting him open—and the hungry eyes watching it happen.

Malcy starting sucking the dig walker. His personal hygiene wasnt great and he had great difficulty to not gag as he pleasured his cock. Pete was concerned as they had stipulated condoms only but hadn't sight of any yet! All he wanted was Justin's hot semen filling his ass.

Malcy’s throat clenched as the dog walker’s musky scent flooded his nose—old sweat, stale piss, and something sour beneath it. The man’s cock was thick, veiny, and unwashed, the taste bitter against Malcy’s tongue. He fought the urge to gag, forcing himself deeper, his own neglected cock twitching at the humiliation. Pete’s breath hitched as Justin’s thrusts grew erratic, his thick shaft pistoning in and out with wet, sloppy precision. “Condoms—” Pete gasped, but Justin just laughed, his fingers digging into Pete’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Too late for that, baby,” Justin growled, his voice rough with lust. “You’re taking me *raw*.” The second dog walker’s wrinkled fingers traced Pete’s rim, slick with spit and sweat, pressing against where Justin’s cock stretched him obscenely wide. “Tight little thing,” the old man muttered, his breath hot and stale against Pete’s ear. Malcy gagged as the first dog walker shoved deeper, his balls slapping against Malcy’s chin. Tears pricked his eyes, but he didn’t stop—couldn’t stop—not with Justin’s dark gaze burning into him, approving. Justin’s rhythm faltered, his hips jerking. “Fuck—*fuck*—gonna fill you—” His voice cracked as he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing inside Pete’s clenching hole. Pete moaned, his own neglected dick dripping onto the floor as Justin’s cum flooded his ass, hot and thick. The second dog walker chuckled, pressing a gnarled finger alongside Justin’s softening length, smearing the mess. “Still got room?” he rasped. Justin pulled out with a wet pop, his spend dripping down Pete’s thighs. “All yours,” he panted, stepping back to watch. Malcy’s throat convulsed as the first dog walker came, the bitter rush flooding his mouth. He swallowed reflexively, his stomach churning—but Justin’s approving smirk made it worth it. Pete braced himself as the second man lined up, his cock thinner but no less demanding. “Hope you like it sloppy,” the old man muttered, thrusting into Pete’s used hole without hesitation. Justin lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly as he watched Pete’s body take it—every filthy, debauched second. No condoms. No mercy. Just the way they liked it.

As quickly as it all kicked off the hot session seemed to end. Pete was on his knees exhausted this asshole gaping with rivers of cum dribbling out. Malcy was also on his knees cum dribbling down his chin. This was the hottest and kinkiest session he'd had in years. He wondered how he might get hold of the video? Pete was more concerned with getting out of there and getting home safely. Secretly both were eager to experience another session with Justin - perhaps back at their house.

The locker room fell quiet except for the ragged breathing and the wet *drip* of cum hitting the floor. Pete’s thighs trembled, his asshole still twitching around nothing, slick with sweat and spend. Justin exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching the mess he’d made with lazy satisfaction. Malcy wiped his chin with the back of his hand, swallowing the last bitter traces. His cock ached, still hard—proof of how much he’d loved every filthy second. He glanced at the dog walker’s phone, still recording. “You, uh… sending that to anyone?” he asked, voice hoarse. The man smirked, tucking himself back into his pants. “Depends. You wanna see it?” Pete groaned, pushing himself up on unsteady arms. His legs felt like jelly, his hole clenching around nothing as another thick trickle slid down his thigh. “Fuck,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone. He needed a shower. A *long* one. Justin crushed his cigarette underfoot, stepping closer to ruffle Malcy’s hair. “You did good,” he murmured, thumbing at the sticky mess on Malcy’s lips. “Both of you.” Pete shivered at the praise, despite himself. His body was wrecked, his mind still hazy—but the thought of doing this again, somewhere *private*, where they could take their time… Malcy grinned up at Justin, licking his lips. “Next time, our place,” he said, bold despite the way his voice cracked. “No audience. Just us.” Justin’s slow smirk was answer enough. Pete grabbed his discarded shirt, wincing as fabric brushed his oversensitive skin. He’d regret this tomorrow. But god, he’d *love* every second of it.