Al Fresco

I had to escape from Sydney for a few days a couple of weeks ago, and it was all very last-minute. So I hired a car and drove up the coast, almost as far as the Queensland border. And I discovered that being away from Sydney made me really miss Sydney, so all in all it was a useful trip. And I even tried sea-kayaking.

While I was up north I stumbled on a nude beach. And when I say 'stumbled on', what I really mean is that I cross-referenced a google search with some listings on a gay cruising site and found some. As opposed to, say, going to a beach and discovering it was full of naked people.

You may be shocked to know that I've only been to a nude beach once before all this, but I liked it a lot. Partly, of course, because there were lots of naked men there, and I was naked too. But mostly because it felt strangely liberating to be in the water with no clothes on. Why only once? I just don't go to the beach much anyway, for the most part. I grew up in Melbourne, which doesn't really have a beach culture, and I spent my formative years indoors. Which also explains why I have (apparently) nice skin.

So there was the beach itself, and then, as I was very carefully reading the listing on the gay cruising site, there was a lake on the road back from the beach which was a well-known cruising site. This whole outdoor hook-up thing isn't something I've done much at all (except, oddly enough, in Tel Aviv... and once in London) but I've been getting very keen on the idea. So, of course, I went.

As you drive to the beach, the last mile or so is a dirt track, and halfway along the track you come along a half-dozen or so cars parked by the side of the read. There's no apparent reason for people to stop there, let alone park; it's in the middle of scrubland, a half-mile from the beach. So, I was thinking to myself, they must be up to something. I do love this.

So I got out of my car, and, wearing my swimmers, a shirt and flipflops, walked along an unmarked track into the scrubby bush. A couple of hundred yards along I came to a small lake, and I could see one or two guys just sort of standing around. And as I walked around, there were more guys just hanging out. Now, I love this part of it. Guys stand around, or walk around slowly. Most guys try to look very nonchalant, as though they'd just picked this very spot in the bush to go for a bit of a stroll, but at the same time we all know exactly why we're here. And this purposeful wandering about is half the fun... a bit of eye contact here, maybe a guy rubs his cock through his shorts as you look at each other, then maybe you get the sense that someone's following you, but it's done in a way that's not so obvious, so you have the choice of slowing down ('yes') or speeding up ('no').

So what happened? Any action? Well, the best bit was at one point I followed a solidly-built guy in his mid30s and by the time I reached him he has his shorts down around his knees and his cock out and hard. Nice cock too. I sucked his cock for a while and he slid my swimmers down, and of course a couple of other guys showed up and were watching (which I love, as you know). I was half-hoping one of the other guys would join in but they were all a bit shy. The guy then said he wanted to fuck me, and started to think about how hot it would be to be fucked outdoors with a couple of guys watching (and I haven't been fucked in quite a while) but by then the watchers had dispersed and I hesitated.. and the moment was gone.

I went back the next day and had some more fun, and it's gotten me very keen on the whole thing. But I find myself wishing there were a straight equivalent... some park or beach somewhere where women were hanging out, half-naked, playing with themselves, looking for a bit of furtive nasty action. But that doesn't happen. And this is what I love about gay sex. While I'm sure it can be tender and loving and affirming and all that, it also can be exquisitely sleazy.