The rain pounded against the windshield, a relentless rhythm that matched the pounding in my chest. My hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles pale as I stared out into the darkness. What the fuck am I doing here? The thought screamed in my head, louder than the storm outside. My heart raced, and every nerve in my body was on edge. I’d never done this before—never even considered it until recently. But now, the craving was relentless. The desire, the curiosity, the need to explore something I’d suppressed for so long had taken over. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him. About what it would feel like to touch, to taste…
I was ready to turn the key, to drive away and pretend this was just another failed attempt to break free from the fear holding me back. But then—knock knock knock. My head snapped to the passenger side window. A shadow loomed in the rain, barely visible through the glass. My breath stopped. My stomach twisted. He’s here.
I hesitated before rolling down the window, the sound of the rain growing louder as the glass slid away. He leaned down, his face coming into view under the dim streetlight. Handsome. Young—probably late twenties—with scruffy stubble and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me. His dark skin glistened with rain, and his smile was sly, confident. Streetwise. That was the word that came to mind. He looked like someone who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low, smooth, and dripping with a kind of assurance I could only dream of. “You gonna let me in, or you just gonna sit there staring?”
I fumbled with the lock, my fingers trembling as I finally managed to press the button. The door opened, and he slid into the passenger seat, his presence filling the car instantly. He smelled like rain and something deeper—musky, earthy, raw. My mouth went dry.
“So,” he said, turning to me with that same confident smirk. “You nervous?”
I swallowed hard, nodding slightly. “A little,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t be,” he said, his hand resting on my thigh. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through me, making my cock twitch in my pants. “You called me here for a reason, right? So why don’t we stop wasting time?”
My eyes dropped to his lap, my pulse quickening at the sight of the bulge already pressing against his jeans. Oh god. I’d never seen one in person before—never touched one. The idea of it made my head spin. My hands itched to reach out, to explore, but I froze, paralyzed by fear and desire.
“Go ahead,” he said, his voice gentle now, almost encouraging. “Touch it.”
My fingers trembled as I reached out, brushing against the denim covering his crotch. Even through the fabric, I could feel the heat, the thickness of him. My heart pounded as I fumbled with his zipper, my fingers slipping slightly as I struggled to pull it down. Finally, it gave way, and I pushed his jeans open, revealing the waistband of his boxers. My mouth watered.
He shifted slightly, letting his jeans fall open further, and I reached into his boxers, my hand brushing against something soft yet firm. My breath caught as I wrapped my fingers around him, feeling the weight, the girth, the smooth skin sliding over the hardness beneath. Oh fuck. It was so much bigger than I expected—so much more.
I pulled him out slowly, my eyes widening as his cock sprang free, heavy and thick, uncut and perfect. My mouth hung open as I took it all in—the way his foreskin bunched up at the base of his shaft, the way his cock curved slightly upwards, the way the tip glistened with a bead of precum that seemed to beckon me closer.
“Damn,” I whispered, my voice shaking as I stared at him. “It’s… beautiful.”
He chuckled softly, his hand resting on my wrist as he guided me to stroke him slowly. “Go on,” he murmured. “Get a closer look.”
I leaned in, my nose brushing against his shaft as I inhaled deeply. His scent was intoxicating—musky, primal, male. It made my head swim with desire. My tongue darted out, tracing a slow line up the underside of his cock, tasting him for the first time. He groaned softly, his hips jerking slightly as I reached the tip.
I paused there, staring at the slit oozing precum. It was mesmerizing—seeing that thick, sticky fluid slowly drip down the length of his shaft. My tongue flicked out again, licking up the bead of precum before wrapping my lips around the tip. Oh god. The taste was salty, tangy, addictive.
He moaned louder this time, his hand tightening in my hair as he guided me further down his shaft. “That’s it,” he growled. “Take it all.”
And I did. Slowly, inch by inch, I took him into my mouth, feeling every ridge, every pulse of his cock as it throbbed against my tongue. It was overwhelming—the sheer size of him stretching my lips, the weight of him pressing down on my tongue—but I didn’t care. I wanted more.InsertRewriteExtendShareReimagine
His hips began to move, thrusting gently into my mouth as I bobbed up and down on his shaft. My hands wandered over his thighs, gripping tightly as I focused on the sensations—the way his cock felt sliding in and out of my mouth, the way his moans grew louder with each stroke.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his fingers tightening in my hair. “You’re a natural.”
I could feel him getting closer—his cock throbbing harder, his breaths coming quicker. And then it happened. With a loud groan, he came, thick ropes of cum shooting into my mouth, coating my tongue with his warm, sticky seed. I swallowed eagerly, not wanting to waste a drop.
His last few spurts were thicker, sliding down his shaft and pooling on his balls. I pulled back slightly, watching in awe as those final drops rolled down his skin before leaning in to lick them clean.
He chuckled breathlessly, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at me. “Damn,” he said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “You’re fucking amazing.”
