gay cruising

On my knees in public, surrounded by strangers, is a fantasy I never knew I had.

I thought cruising was dead, but not in Berlin. My straight friend and I stumble into a scorching hot scene in a dark park: a couple of guys with their jeans undone, pinning each other on a picnic table. I can’t take my eyes off them, and it’s clear we’re not the only ones watching.

But that’s not me. I’m not the cruising type. So why do I suddenly want to be the one bent over that table, exposed and devoured by prying eyes?

And why the hell is my straight buddy smirking like that?