Back seat bareback

New Years Eve four years ago, I picked up a stranger on the side of the road and followed his turn by turn directions to drive him to an undisclosed location, where he bred me. Never had I done anything like that before then. It was scary and erotic all at the same time. 

Earlier that evening, I went to friends for a party at their house until midnight, stayed after to help clean up, and then came home. Lonely and horny, I browsed a couple of apps to see if anyone nearby caught my eye. A new profile piqued my interest. The screen name was Private1.  

His picture was shot in low light, so it looked black-and-white. It showed a man with a runner’s build, maybe a swimmer’s. In the dim light of the photo, I saw his ripped back, ass, and thighs. He was plowing another guy from behind. The image left a sense of secrecy and discretion but also yearning. It showed no faces, and in the dim light, nothing in the room was visible. He had an artistic eye, so maybe he would be creative sexually too. 

Curious, I tapped to view his profile. It said he was 23, so just five years younger than I. He stood 5’8” to my 5’11.” Weighing 150, he was 15 pounds lighter than me with blond hair, blue eyes, and a naturally smooth body. He claimed 7” and average thickness. I read his description, which said he was visiting the area and looking for fun. 

I decided to message him. “Hello sir. Happy New Year. How are you tonight?”

I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. As I drank, I heard an alert from my phone. Lifting it from my pocket, I saw a notification from the app. I opened it and saw a new message from him. 

“Happy new year. Thanks for the message. Looking?”

“Yes sir. I can travel or host.” 

“Travel. I am visiting relatives and don’t have the keys to the car.”

“Cool, they’re ok with us playing at their place, Sir?”

“No, but I know a place near here where we can play.”

If this moment were in a movie, I would have been shaking my head and rolling my eyes at the stupidity of the character who agreed to this. In my mind’s eye, I imagined the police explaining how I had died, “He met a guy online, didn’t see his face, agreed to meet him somewhere anyway, left his apartment around 2 a.m., and was found dead a few hours later.” I messaged something to that effect to Private1. 

He sent a laughing emoji. “Oh damn. You’re right. That is creepy as shit. I’m sorry.” Then, he sent me three pix. None showed his face. The first showed his chest and abs. His body was slim and lean like a runner. His chest was perfectly cut, and so were his abs. His nipples looked the size of quarters and supple. If the statue of David were made of flesh, this picture would have been his. 

The second showed his beautifully manscaped cock and balls. The cock was semi-hard and already looked 7” or more. Clearly, he was a shower instead of a grower. The smooth balls were hanging low and looked the size of golf balls. My mouth was watering. 

The third showed his cock, sheathed in a condom, with the head just entering a smooth ass. This scene was my kryptonite. I knew I wanted to be the bottom guy in that photo. The thought of this cock being driven into my hole by this body really stoked my fire. 

I replied with a shrug. “Tell you what. I’ll head that way.”

“I thought you might. And hey, I promise that I’m just looking to fuck. I’m not a serial killer.” 

“Hmm. Seems like something a serial killer might say, sir. But, if I am going to pick you up, I need to know where to drive.”

He messaged me an address. I pasted it into a map, and I sighed. It would take me an hour to get there, and I wasn’t familiar with that part of town. I had been out that way a couple of times with friends, but they knew where they were going. I told him how far it was and that I was not sure I was up for that far of a drive tonight of all nights. Drunk drivers will be all over the roads soon. 

“I understand. Mind if we just chat for a while? Until one of us finds someone else to fuck?” he replied.

“That works for me.” 

We chatted for a few minutes. He said he was in the Army but was here on leave to see his parents who live in the area. His profile pic was from his last visit about a year ago.

After a few minutes, he wrote, “I would love to fuck you doggy style. You know you want to be my bitch.” 

Seeing those words in his message, the fire of my lust exploded. I could not think clearly. I just needed to get to him. “Yes, sir. I do know. Fuck!”

“Then get in your car and drive. Keep the app open. Keep chatting with me.” 

“Aye Sir. On my way.” 

I set navigation and left my apartment complex. He sent more pictures of himself. He sent more cocky messages. I replied and updated him on my location and ETA as I drove. 

When I was a couple of minutes from his address, he told me that he would be waiting at the end of his driveway. I would stop in the road when I reached him, and he would get into the car. Then, he would direct me to his family’s restaurant nearby. 

As I turned onto his street, I noticed that all of the houses were set far back from the street. The front lawns were enormous. The houses were too. It took more than a minute of driving down this street before I saw someone ahead in the distance. He leaned nonchalantly on a mailbox encased in brick. He wore light gray sweat pants and a loose yellow hoodie. His hands were shoved into the pouch. His blond hair was military buzz cut. He had a strong jaw and pronounced cheek bones. His eyes were deep set under full eyebrows. While he did not look like a model, he was good looking. 

As my car stopped, I unlocked the doors. He raised his head and looked around as if making sure no one saw. He pulled his hands from the pouch of his hoodie to show me he held nothing but his phone. Then, he hurried to the car. The way he moved and the way the sweats flowed over his body confirmed the athletic build from the pictures. He opened the passenger door, slid into the seat, and closed the door. Fastening his seat belt, he pointed directly ahead, “Drive.” 

I obeyed. His directions to his family’s restaurant took less than five minutes. He pointed toward the back of the building and told me to park in the dark corner near the dumpster. As soon as I had parked, I turned off the engine, so the lights would go dark. My black car would vanish into the shadows back here, so anyone—including cops—who drove by would easily miss us parked here. 

He grabbed my hand and brought it to his crotch. He pushed the waist-band away from his body and shoved my hand inside to feel his cock, balls, and pubes. 

“No underwear?” I asked. 

“Didn’t need any.” 

I opened my mouth to call bullshit because it was too cold for just sweats, but before I could speak, he pulled my head toward his and kissed me deeply. My hand in his pants felt his cock stirring, thickening, hardening. I fumbled with my free hand to release my seat belt. He pulled away from the kiss and took off his hoodie. My mouth instantly locked on his nipple. I licked and sucked it. My hand was still in his sweatpants, and I could feel him hardening. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled my head back so I was facing him looking down at me. He looked at me incredulously and barked, “Lose the shirt. We’re getting in the back seat.” 

I reclaimed my hand and quickly removed my shirt. As soon as I had, I saw that he had removed his sweatpants. He was completely naked. 

“Should I go ahead and take off my pants too?” I asked. 

“Yes. I can’t fuck you through them, can I?” 

“No sir.” I answered as I wriggled out of them while still in the drivers seat of the car. He slid over the seat into the back, and as soon as my pants were off, I followed him. 

He spoke commandingly, “You want to be my bitch.” It was not a question. 

“Aye sir,” I answered almost before he finished speaking. 

“Doggy position. Give me that ass.” 

My body snapped into position. I felt his fingers playing with my hole, and I felt him spit to lube it up. One finger inside. Then two. I had brought condoms, so I reached for them. “I have condoms and lube, Sir.”

“What for?”

Stunned, I stammered, “so… you can… fuck me, sir…”

“Did you want to get fucked by a condom? Or did you want to get fucked by my dick?” 

He had three fingers inside me at this point, bending, stroking, wiggling, enticing. I had trouble speaking. I opened my mouth to speak, and he turned his hand or bent his fingers. I gasped or groaned instead of answering. 

“What’s it going to be? What do you want in your ass? A condom? Or MY COCK?” 

“Cock, Sir. Your Cock. I want Your Cock to fuck my ass.”

“Good answer,” he said as he abruptly removed his fingers from my hole. Almost as quick as they were out, I felt his cock penetrate. He grabbed my hips and held me steady as he pushed deeper until he was balls deep. 

“You’re fucking me bareback?” I asked. I knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it. My brain and body were in disbelief. 

“Yes, I am. You want to be my bitch, so You want to take my bare cock.”

“Fuck, sir, that’s hot. You’ll pull out to cum, though?”

He started fucking me. It was not a gentle fuck, and he did not take any time to open my ass. He just started drilling. I braced against the door as he slammed his cock into my hole from behind over and over. The force of his thrusts surprised me for a guy as thin as he was. 

He was wrecking my hole, and I knew I would have trouble sitting comfortably for the next few days. This fuck hurt but was also glorious. Every time the discomfort began to fade into pleasure, he shifted, so his cock drove in at a different angle. 

I managed to squeak words, “cum on my back, ok, sir?” 

If he heard me, he did not show it. His feral fucking of my hole was relentless. I kept bracing and re-bracing against the closed door inside the car. He reached around and took hold of my wrists and pulled them behind my back. My head dropped to the seat. Crossing my wrists at my waist, he held them in place against my back as his cock kept driving into me with urgent need. 

I cried out from the intensity of the fuck. “Please!”

His free hand slapped the side of my ass, “please, what, bitch?”

“Please, Sir… please cum on my back.” 

He slapped my ass again and pulled his cock out of me. He continued to hold my wrists while he jacked his cock with his other hand. “Thought you wanted me to fuck your hole, bitch, but I guess I can just jerk off on it.” 

“What, sir? No, please fuck me—just pull out to cum on my back. Ok?”

He shoved his cock back into my hole, “so you think a bitch dictates where I cum?” He thrust several times hard and fast. 

“Fuck, sir!!” I protested through teeth clenched to bare his force, but I understood what was happening here. “No, a bitch doesn’t decide where You cum, sir.” 

His pace changed. He started long-dicking me. He would drive deep, flex his cock, and keeping it flexed, he pulled all the way out. I heard a clear pop as his cock exited me. Then, I felt him press it to the hole and drive to full depth again. I looked over my shoulder to see him on the seat behind me. He had one leg extended with a foot on the floor while the other was bent at the knee on the seat. His head was ducked because the ceiling was low. The arm that held my wrists behind my back was tensed showing every muscle and vein. His abs were popping from the thrusting. His face was beastly, lost in pleasure and need. 

My own cock was semi-hard. I had not touched it. He hadn’t either, but I could feel my orgasm rising. He long-dicked my hole several more times, and I whimpered that I was about to cum. 

“So?” he replied. 

“Oh fuck… I’m cumming!” I grunted. I felt each surge rush through my cock, and I heard each rope splatter on the upholstery of the seat under me. 

He started jack-hammering my hole so intensely that I cried out. He grabbed my wrists with both hands and separated them. He pulled me arms back like I was a fucking wheel barrel. He shoved in deep and roared. 

He unloaded his seed into my wrecked ass. He held us in this position for a moment. Then, he let go and pulled his cock out of me. 

“Damn, bitch!” He said with a thankful, even friendly, tone. “You’re one hot fuck.”

Confused by the sudden change in demeanor, I tried to roll with it. “Thank you, sir. That was…intense.” 

“Yes, it was. Fuck!”

Speaking aloud as much for my own reflection as for him to hear me acknowledge, I said, “Your cum is in my ass, sir.”

“Yes, it is. You wanted to be my bitch. Now, you are.”

“What does that mean, sir? That your cum is in me. What will that do to me?”

He looked a little perplexed, but he answered, “You’re one of my bitches now. When I want to fuck you again, you’ll submit for another load.” 

I felt a rush of excitement and lust. I knew in my gut that he was right. “Oh fuck, sir. That’s hot.” 

We got dressed, and I drove him back to his driveway. As I drove, he told me his name: Jim. I answered with mine: Ian. He asked for my number, and as I drove, I recited it for him. He added it to his phone as we reached his driveway. Opening the door to exit, he said he would text me so I could add him to my phone. He exited the car there and thanked me again for a hot time. 

“Too bad I head back tomorrow. If I had met you sooner, I would have had you every night I was here.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

I drove the hour back to my house. I felt a warm glow the whole way. That guy had overwhelmed me, and the intensity was scary and hot. He had not texted me yet. But I knew that if he messaged me, I would go to him again. 

~~~~~~~

Epilogue

Three years later, I got a text message from a number not in my phone: “Hey Ian. You still in the area?”

“Sorry. This number is not in my phone. Who is this?” I replied. 

“Jim. I fucked you in the back seat of your car parked at my family restaurant.”

I immediately knew and felt the urge to serve. “Hello Sir. Yes, I am still here.”

“Good. Come pick me up, bitch.”