The Warning

We met through a hookup app. I liked his pic. It showed him sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. The camera angled up at his body showing me how I would see him if he allowed me to kneel before him. Sunglasses concealed his eyes. A stern, commanding expression covered his face. His dark hair was short, close cropped on the sides, reminiscent of a military style. He wore an olive green crewneck workout shirt. His “dad-bod” was apparent. His shoulders and chest were muscular, and his stomach was not flat but probably had been when he was younger. His biceps still had volume and tone despite some loss of definition. His profile indicated he stood 5’9” and weighed 180 pounds. At 50, he was five years older than me, but he looked better than most of the men my age and younger. His hair showed very little gray. His profile said that he was a versatile top into domination, role-play, public sex, and water sports. It also said he was married and looking for NSA or maybe an FB/FWB on the side—not a serious relationship.

I too was married and prowling for NSA fun. My husband and I aspired to monogamy, for we knew that was the surest way to protect one another from STIs—that is, both sexually transmittable infections or infestations and “seriously troubling incidents” due to hookups who lack discretion or boundaries. Aspiring for monogamy, we also were pragmatic, so neither of us truly expected the other one to be celibate outside the marriage. If one of us was horny but the other was not in the mood, we could find a playmate. I guess you could say that in our marriage, the spouse had the right of first refusal. If I wasn’t in the mood or available, he could cruise. If he wasn’t in the mood or available, I could cruise. So, one day while my husband was away for work, I found myself cruising.

Before seeing the profile for Dom, I had chatted with a couple of guys or tried to. They responded to my hello but then did not say much after that. Then, I saw Dom’s profile. I was reading it when I saw a message alert. I opened my messages and saw it was from him: “Thanks for checking out my profile, boy. I like yours. If you’re looking, HMU.”

I replied quickly. “Thank you, Sir! Great pic and profile. I am looking but prefer to chat a little first.”

He replied and welcomed conversation. I do like a man who can use his words. I have never been one to hookup unless I feel a connection, and for a connection, I need conversation. It lets me gauge how the guy communicates and how he thinks. It also gives me a sense of how imaginative he is. If he cannot talk dirty, he cannot THINK dirty.

He said he liked dominating men taller than he. At six feet tall, I checked that box for him. I explained that I only submitted to men whose cocks were bigger than my husband’s, and Dom’s cock was both longer and thicker, so he definitely had my attention. Both of us preferred playing with other married men because each of us understands the need for discretion. We chatted about how long we had lived in the area and our general lines of work. After both of us were reasonably sure that we did not know each other in real life and that our personal or professional paths would not cross, we decided to meet somewhere public to see one another and decide if we wanted to go further.

The app showed us about five miles apart, so after mentioning the interstate exits nearest us, we chose a nearby shopping district as our rendezvous point. We picked a smaller parking area on the south side of the district, so once we arrived, finding each other would be easier. He described his vehicle, and I described mine. He mentioned needing to run an errand first, so we agreed to meet in an hour. I used the time to freshen up and prepare.

While I was getting ready, he messaged me. “Oh yeah, boy, I forgot to mention something. Once you see my cock in person, you will want to touch it.”

I chuckled, but I messaged back, “Hot, Sir!”

He replied, “Seriously, boy. There’s something about it. Just wanted you to know while you still had time to back out.”

“Thank you, Sir, for the heads-up. I’ll be careful then.”

“Good boy. See you soon.”

I finished getting ready and headed out the door. The drive was quick, so soon, I was parked at the rendezvous point. I was a few minutes early, and the weather was nice, so I got out of my SUV and walked to the nearest store. I messaged Dom, “Here a little early, Sir. Walking around. Message me when you are close?”

“Close now, boy” was his reply, so I turned and walked toward my vehicle. I saw a sedan matching the description he gave me pull into the parking stall beside mine. It parked on the driver side of my vehicle. I messaged Dom, “Vehicle matching your description just parked next to my SUV.” I provided the license tag and asked if that was him.

“Yes, boy. Come to my window now.”

The parking stall beside the driver window of his car was empty, so I walked with a few feet between me and the sedan. As I approached, the driver window opened. When I was beside him, I stopped and hesitantly said “Hello Sir.” In case the man driving the car was not Dom, I was ready to ask him for directions to a store in another part of the shopping district.

He did not turn his head toward me but kept his eyes on his rearview mirror. “Hello boy,” he spoke quietly. “Come closer.”

I took a couple of steps toward him. He lifted his phone and looked down at it, still not at me. “Closer, boy.”

I obeyed, so I stood right beside his car. He slowly raised his head and tilted it toward me but without ever really facing me directly. His sunglasses hid his eyes. “Better.”

Somehow, the fact that he was not looking directly at me made this moment all the hotter. He looked as good in person as he had on the app—maybe better. Too many times, I met a guy who looked hot and chatted well only to lose the lust when we saw each other in person. I was relieved that my lust stayed strong, so I tried to think of something to say. “I hope your errand went well, Sir.”

He smirked. “It did, boy. Thanks for remembering. Turn around for me. I want to your ass.”

Thinking quickly, to avoid drawing unwanted attention from pedestrians around us, I turned my head and pointed toward some of the shops behind me. “That way?” Then, I turned to face them and acted like I was looking for something.

“Good boy. I see what you did there. Face me.”

I turned back to him. He was facing me now. His reflective sunglasses still hid his eyes, but he was looking directly at me.

“Nice ass,” he said softly. “Lean against the window.”

I did as I understood. I rested the heel of my hand against the top of his window.

“No, bend over and lean here.” He gestured with his head for me to fold my arms across the open window of his car door. I did.

“Like this, Sir?”

“Yes, boy,” he smiled. Then, he turned his head to look at the rearview mirror again. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he was checking to see if anyone was watching us. As he look around and checked out the mirror, I admired his body. He was wearing a gray dry-weave crew neck shirt. It stretched to fit his muscular shoulders and chest snugly but was a little looser around his stomach. His dad-bod stomach was apparent as the fabric rested on it, but it didn’t stretch the shirt. No, the shirt draped to cover his stomach and the top of his dark green running shorts. I could see an obvious shift in crotch of the shorts where his ample cock pushed into the left leg. It did not appear hard yet, but still, I could tell which direction he dressed. His legs looked muscular and thick as they rested in the driver’s seat. “Like what you see, boy?”

“Yes, Sir. You appear to be in great shape.”

“You too, boy.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Now, boy, I need to ask you about something. Do you remember what I said would happen if you looked at my dick?”

I smiled, nodded, and chuckled softly.

“You think it’s funny, boy?” he asked sternly.

“It’s just surprising to hear you ask about that. Yes, sir, I remember. You said that seeing it would make me want to touch it.”

“And you can see it through my shorts, can’t you?”

Reflexively, I looked down and could see that it had chubbed up. The bulge was more prominent now. “Yes, sir. I can.” Then, I returned my gaze to his sunglasses.

He held my gaze while his fingers gathered the fabric of his gym shorts. He looked down. His sunglasses showed me the reflection of him pulling his balls and cock free from the shorts. Once he had freed them, I could see in the reflection that he gave them a tug. He took a long deep breath. As he exhaled, he slowly raised his head facing forward and then turned toward me.

Without looking away from his sunglasses, I felt myself wanting to look down. I wanted to see fully what I saw in the reflection and now glimpsed in my peripheral vision. Smirking, I asked him, “am I supposed to look at it now?”

He shrugged, “supposed to? No. But you want to.”

“Oh I do?!” I laughed without breaking eye contact.

“Yes, boy. You do,” he stated. His words were emphatic, directive. They were an order. He commanded me to want it.

“But Sir, you told me that if I see your cock...” I cooed but my words were interrupted.

“You WANT to look at it, boy.” His voice was quiet but firm. The words seemed to echo in my mind. I felt the desire to see it surging in me. My eyes obeyed and looked down.

His cock was thick. Chubby but still soft, it easily was 2 inches wide, and it was as long as a dollar bill. His balls were big heavy golf balls swinging free in a sack that hung well past the head of his cock. They were hairy, untrimmed. I preferred shaved balls, because I didn’t like hair in my mouth—even if it was pubic hair from such a magnificent scrotum.

Instinctively, I licked my lips. He chortled, “uh huh, faggot. I told you that if you saw it, you would want to touch it.”

“Wow!” I mumbled stupidly.

“Reach inside.”

I extended my left arm. He grabbed my wrist and guided my hand down to his growing, hardening cock. My eyes were fixed on it. I couldn’t look away even if I had wanted. As he had warned, I wanted to touch it. But like seeing it made me want to touch it, I felt sure that touching would make me want something else.

“Wait, Sir, what happens if I touch it?” I asked.

I could feel his gaze on me through his sunglasses. Without answering me, he led my hand closer and closer to his cock. As he wrapped my fingers around his tool, he finally spoke, “You’ll want to stroke it, boy.”

It felt hot, hard, and tacky. The skin seemed to grab mine. It had grown to at least 8 if not 8.5” now, and it was as thicker than a can of Red Bull. Not quite beer can thick but getting there.

I raised my face to look at him but realized that my eyes were fixed on his cock. “Sir, I can’t seem to look away.”

“I know,” he smirked. “Just keep watching, boy.” He rocked his hips, thrusting his still hardening cock through my grip. I saw it growing, and I could feel its veiny tumescence strengthening in my hand. He stopped rocking, and I watched as my hand assumed the motion. I saw my hand stroking him.

I knew he had not told me to stroke it. I thought I should stop, but I watched as my hand kept going. “Sir, I’m sorry. My hand… I cannot stop it.”

“I know, boy. I told you. If you touched it, you would want to stroke it.”

“I should stop, Sir.”

“Oh?”

“Someone is going to see.”

“I know, faggot.”

I couldn’t seem to stop my hand. I wanted to look at him to see in his face what he expected me to do, but I couldn’t look away. My eyes were fixed on the sight of my hand stroking his cock.

“Sir,” I said with some growing anxiety in my voice, “I can’t look away.”

“I know, boy.”

“I cannot stop stroking your cock either.” My alarm was growing.

“I know, faggot.” His cock was fully hard in my grip. 8.5” and at least as thick as a beer can.

“Sir... I don’t understand this! What is happening?” I could see precum glistening at the head of his cock. My eyes widened, and my lips parted as I drew in a gasp.

“You want to taste it, boy.”

I heard the order and felt it take hold. I did want to taste it. Thinking that he planned for me somehow to put my lips to his cock through his car window, I was also horrified. He laughed.

“Yes, boy, you DO want to taste it, and I see that you realize now that you cannot resist.”

“Oh fuck, Sir. Why not?” I begged to know.

He didn’t answer. He took my wrist and stopped my hand. He took my hand off his cock and used my ring finger to collect the bead of precum from the tip of his cock. As he guided my hand toward my mouth, he told me to look at his eyes. I obeyed.

With his free hand, he lowered his sunglasses just enough for me to see his eyes behind them. They were such a dark brown that they were almost black, but the sunlight reflected off golden flecks and yellow bands to make them look hypnotic.

As I stared into his eyes, I felt him use my finger to rub his precum onto my lips.

“Lick your lips, boy.”

I started to obey but had a moment of lucidity. “But sir, your precum…”

“I know, boy. Lick.”

“What happens to me once I taste your precum, Sir?”

Holding my gaze with a slight smirk on his lips, he spoke the answer that I already understood. “You’ll want my full load, boy.” He paused for moment. “Now, lick.”

I obeyed. The slippery texture and sweet savoriness of the precum were delicious. I licked my lips again. Then, I covered my upper lip with my tongue and pulled it into my mouth to extract every sip of precum from it. I repeated with my lower lip.

He smiled, raised his sunglasses to hide his eyes, and began closing his window. “Follow me. Now. “