Sunlight spilled through the curtains of my hotel room, pulling me awake.
For a moment I lay still, piecing together flashes from the night before. The faint scent of sweat and sex lingered in the room, and my leather harness was still strapped across my chest. I smiled to myself. Apparently I'd fallen asleep without bothering to change.
My head was still clouded with sleep as I tried to make sense of what was happening. Then I looked down.
The twink from the night before was enthusiastically going down on me, his head bobbing with determined focus. I couldn't help but grin.
I rested a hand on the back of his head, gently guiding him. His eyes met mine for a moment, a mischievous smile curling around me before he returned to his task. As the last traces of sleep faded, I felt my morning erection harden in his mouth.
It didn't seem to faze him in the slightest.
I sat up and reached for his arse, giving one firm cheek a squeeze. It was one of the things that had first caught my attention on Grindr, and it was every bit as firm as I'd remembered. My hand drifted lower until I found him waiting for me. As I slipped a finger inside, I was surprised by how tight he still felt despite everything we'd gotten up to the night before. I reached a little deeper while he continued his determined rhythm.
His muffled moans encouraged me, making it clear he was enjoying every second of it. One hand wrapped around my shaft, turning his grip into an extension of his mouth as he worked in smooth, practiced strokes. The combined sensation steadily pushed me closer until I finally lost the battle.
"Fuck... I'm coming."
He didn't slow down, maintaining the same relentless pace as wave after wave overtook me. Only when it was finally over did I sink back against the headboard, catching my breath.
Then I happened to glance at the clock.
"Damn."
I was going to be late.
He sat up and looked at me with those doughy eyes and cheeky grin. Well, glad we got you off to a good start
That you did, boy, I said
Sliding out of bed, I unclipped the leather harness from my chest and headed for the shower. Hot water cascaded over me, carrying away the lingering scent of sweat and the memories of the night before. Soap traced the lines of my shoulders, chest and arms before disappearing down the drain.
For a moment I caught my reflection in the fogged mirror.
I smiled.
I was still proud of the body looking back at me. Years of hiking, hauling plants, and refusing to give up the gym had left me broader than most men my age. There were a few more silver hairs than there had been a decade ago, but they suited me. Confidence wasn't something I'd always felt—but physically, I'd learned to appreciate the man staring back at me.
Reality interrupted my moment of vanity.
"Damn."
The conference wasn't exactly the place to arrive looking—or smelling—as though I'd only just climbed out of someone else's bed.
I dried off quickly and wrapped a towel around my waist.
"You're leaving so quickly?"
I turned.
He was leaning casually against the bathroom doorframe, completely naked, his dark hair adorably tousled from sleep. The early morning light softened his features, catching the sparkle in his eyes and the easy smile that had undone me the night before. He looked effortlessly beautiful, all youthful confidence wrapped in sleepy warmth.
For a second I simply looked at him. He really was gorgeous. "I've got to go," I said with an apologetic smile. "Conference field trip."
He let out an exaggerated sigh, his smile turning into a playful pout. "That's a shame. I was hoping for a quick fuck before you left."
I walked over, cupped his cheek, and kissed him softly. "So was I.. but I am already late.”
He pouted just enough to make me laugh. I grabbed my backpack. "Stay as long as you want. You've got my number."
He smiled. "I'll text you tonight."
"I hope you do."
*******
A few minutes later, I was in the elevator, looking more like myself. The leather was gone, replaced by hiking boots, cargo shorts, a faded T-shirt with a botanical illustration across the front, my glasses, a floppy sun hat, and a backpack full of notebooks and plant guides.
During the day, I worked at a public garden and spent my time searching for rare plants, talking excitedly about wildflowers, and happily disappearing into the field with other plant nerds. By night... that was another side of me entirely. Most people saw one or the other version of me, but few could imagine that both were parts of one person.
Today was the third day of the conference, which meant the field excursions—always my favourite part.
Outside, several buses were lined up, each marked with a different destination. Groups of botanists chatted excitedly, comparing cameras, notebooks, coffee cups and well-worn field guides.
As I approached my bus, a young volunteer checked my ticket.
He couldn't have been much older than my graduate students. A neatly trimmed moustache framed an easy smile, while bright blue eyes seemed to light up his whole face. His loose linen shirt and faded jeans did little to hide a lean, athletic frame that looked as though it spent as much time outdoors as I did.
I caught myself staring a second too long.
"Welcome aboard," he said, holding out his hand for my ticket.
"Thanks."
As he handed it back, our fingers brushed for the briefest moment. His eyes met mine, holding my gaze just a heartbeat longer than politeness required before he smiled and turned to greet the next person.
I climbed onto the bus with a faint smile.
He was undeniably attractive.
I caught myself wondering if there had been something there. That didn't mean anything. Then I laughed inwardly. I reminded myself of that as I found a seat near the back.
Once the bus was nearly full, the volunteer walked slowly down the aisle, counting passengers. When he reached my row, his eyes met mine again for the briefest moment before he smiled and continued forward. I refused to read anything into it.
The driver pulled away from the curb, and the bus rolled to start a day filled with gardens and wildflowers.
We got off the bus, and the young volunteer gathered us all together, explained the route for the day, reminded everyone to stay with the group, and introduced us to our guide for the tour. I happily disappeared into botanist mode. As the day went on, the guide pointed out unusual conifers, plants with impossible-to-pronounce Latin names, and a collection of orchids I'd only ever seen in books. I scribbled notes, took photographs, and generally forgot about the young volunteer and our interactions.
But then I started to notice that whenever I looked up, he was there. Not talking to me. Just... there. I tried to push him from my mind and move on, but somehow he always drifted into my line of sight again. I know I was not searching him out, so it seemed odd that he was always there, again beside the Japanese garden, and again outside the glasshouse. This seemed too intentional rather than coincidence.
At first I found it flattering. He was undeniably cute. If he was trying to catch my attention, it was working, and I certainly wasn't going to complain. But after the fourth or fifth time, something unexpected crept in.
Sadness.
It wasn't him. It was the familiar dance. The “I'm interested... but not enough to actually do anything about it.”
Instead, he hovered. Close enough that I noticed him. Never close enough for anything to happen. Maybe he was just doing his job. Maybe I was imagining the whole thing. Maybe every glance I'd caught was nothing more than coincidence.
I honestly had no idea.
What I did know was that I was exhausted. Not by him. By the guessing. By constantly trying to work out whether a smile meant something or nothing. By wondering if I was inventing chemistry that didn't exist. But finally deciding to take the risk myself because no one else ever seemed willing to.
People often told me I looked intimidating. I understood why. Years in the gym, a square jaw, a face that settled naturally into what friends affectionately called my "resting bitch face." More than once I'd been told I looked like I was judging the room before I'd even said hello.
The irony was that nothing could have been further from the truth. People always seemed surprised by how approachable I actually was. As though my face had spent years introducing a man I'd never really been.
Confidence was undeniably attractive. In the bedroom, I even enjoyed the role people imagined I'd play. However, outside of it… It could be lonely.
Sometimes I wished someone would look at me, take a deep breath, and decide I was worth risking rejection for. By late afternoon I'd had enough. The group gathered near the buses for the trip back to the hotel. I spotted the volunteer checking names one last time and walked over before I had time to second-guess myself.
"Hey," I said. He looked up and smiled. "Just so you know, I'm not taking the bus back."
His smile faltered almost imperceptibly.
"I'm going to walk," I said. "It's too nice an evening to waste."
For the first time all day, his smile disappeared. There was something in his expression—a flicker of disappointment, maybe even frustration—but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "Oh." He looked... disappointed. Almost as if I'd broken some unspoken plan.
"I just wanted to let you know," I said with a shrug. "Thanks for today."
He nodded. "Have a good walk."
I turned and headed toward the city.
Halfway down the path, my phone buzzed. It was the guy from last night.
Any chance you're free tonight?
I smiled despite myself. A few hours earlier I'd have been excited. He was gorgeous, charming, and we'd had an incredible night together.
But today… Today I just felt tired. I stared at the screen for a moment before replying. “Long day. Rain check?”
His reply came almost immediately. Of course. Maybe tomorrow.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket. He'd be fine. He was young, handsome, and would have no shortage of attention tonight.
As I walked, I realized something that surprised me. It wasn't sex I was tired of. It wasn't dating. I was tired of being expected to lead. The flirting, the reassuring, the first message, the first move. Showing the confidence everyone assumed came naturally.
******
Back at the hotel, I showered, changed into black jeans and a floral tank top decorated with roses. I loved how the tank was fitted and showed my muscular shoulders nicely, but the feminine design took some of the edge off my solid form. I then slipped on my leather jacket to finish the look. Sitting comfortably between plant nerd and leather daddy.
It felt more like me.
I grabbed a cigar and lighter, and put it in the inside pocket of my jacket. I then wandered to a small bar a few blocks from the hotel that still allowed smoking.
The evening was warm enough to sit out on the patio. I ordered an IPA, clipped the end of my cigar, lit it, and settled back into my chair. The first draw was slow and earthy, the smoke curling lazily into the fading light. For the first time all day, my mind gave itself permission to stop overthinking.
Around me, the bar had settled into its own rhythm.
A handful of young guys lingered near the entrance, laughing a little too loudly whenever an older man walked past. Their glances lingered just long enough to invite attention before they disappeared into another burst of laughter. It was a game as old as the community itself, and tonight I found myself smiling at it from a comfortable distance.
Across the patio, two broad-shouldered bears nursed bourbons while arguing passionately about baseball. Every few minutes one of them would glance toward the younger crowd before returning to the conversation. I couldn't tell whether they were trying to impress the twinks... or each other.
Normally I'd have been watching the room with a different kind of curiosity, wondering who might catch my eye.
Not tonight. Tonight I wanted nothing from anyone. No flirting. No expectations. Just a cold beer, a good cigar, and enough quiet to untangle the thoughts that had followed me out of the gardens. The smoke drifted upward, carrying the tension with it; I felt myself relax.
Then the patio door opened. I looked up. My stomach dropped. For a second I honestly thought my mind was playing tricks on me.
It was him.
The volunteer.
Gone were the hiking boots and khaki shorts. Instead, he wore black jeans, leather boots, and a fitted white T-shirt. The pornstar moustache and cheeky smoke were still there.
Jesus. He cleaned up well.
He hadn't noticed me yet. Good. Maybe he'd grab a drink inside, and I'd be gone before he came back out.
I took another sip of my beer.
When I looked up again, he was staring straight at me. His expression wasn't angry. It was... disappointed.
He walked toward my table with a determination that hadn't existed all day. "Mind if I sit down?"
I shrugged. "Sure?"
He pulled out the chair but didn't sit immediately." What happened today? I could have sworn you were interested."
"I was."
"Then why'd you disappear?"
I rested my cigar in the ashtray. "Because I'm tired."
He blinked. "Tired?"
"I'm tired of being the one who's expected to do the chasing."
He looked genuinely confused. "I smiled at you all day."
"I know."
"I kept finding excuses to be near you."
"I noticed."
"I thought I was being obvious."
"You were."
"So why didn't you reach out?"
I smiled sadly. "Because that is what I always do; that is always how it goes."
Silence. Neither of us spoke.
Finally I leaned back. "Can I tell you something?"
He nodded. "Every guy I meet thinks I'm confident, but I just look confident."
He studied me.
"I spend so much of my life making the first move. Ignoring the nerves and self-doubt. Walking over. Starting conversations. Wondering if I'm imagining things. Wondering if I've got it wrong."
I looked him straight in the eyes. "Sometimes..." I paused. "...I just want to know what it feels like for someone else to risk hearing 'no.'"
He looked down at the table. Then back at me. "I was terrified."
"So was I."
He laughed. "I thought you were intimidating."
"I know."
"You looked like the kind of guy who'd never get rejected."
"I've been rejected plenty."
Another silence. This one felt different. Lighter.
He smiled. "So..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...would you let me buy you another beer?"
I picked up my cigar and smiled for the first time all day.
"I’d love that..."
He then replied, “I am Jones, by the way”, as he extended his hand.
I replied, “Matt, pleasure to meet you”
With introductions out of the way, he stood from the table. "Great, I will get us two IPAs."
I watched him disappear toward the bar. Only now, seeing him from behind, did I allow myself to really look. He moved with an easy confidence. Gone was the shy volunteer; this was a man with purpose, shoulders relaxed, the faintest swagger in his stride.
I smiled to myself. Cute. Dangerously cute.
It struck me how different he looked now. He seemed like he belonged among leather jackets, whiskey and cigar smoke. My eyes lingered a second longer before I forced myself to look away.
Careful. I'd spent enough of my life inventing stories. Still… I couldn't deny I found him incredibly attractive.
He returned, balancing two fresh beers. We clinked glasses. "For surviving today's heat."
For a moment neither of us spoke. Then I asked the question that had been circling in my head ever since he'd walked into the bar. "So..."
He looked up.
"This morning you met a guy in cargo shorts who got excited over plants."
He smiled. "I did."
"And tonight you found a guy smoking a cigar in a leather jacket."
"I noticed."
"So which one were you hoping to meet?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back, studying me as though the answer deserved careful thought. "I think that's the wrong question."
"Is it?"
He nodded. "I wasn't hoping for one."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I was hoping they were the same person."
Something inside me softened.
"I liked watching you in the gardens. You looked happiest when you forgot everyone else was there."
I laughed. "I probably did."
"And I like watching you here." He smiled "Because you look just as comfortable."
I found myself smiling without realizing it.
"That's a dangerous thing to say."
"Why?"
"Because I might start believing you."
We took another drink of beer and chatted. Hours slipped by unnoticed.
We traded stories about travel, disastrous dates, favourite gardens, terrible coffee, ridiculous conference dinners, and the strange relief of finding someone who didn't seem to need a performance.
The conversation flowed so effortlessly that neither of us noticed the evening slipping away until the bartender called, "Last orders."
Neither of us moved. "I should probably head back," I said, glancing reluctantly at my empty glass.
He smiled. "Would you mind if I walked with you?"
I looked at him for a moment. He really was beautiful. The kind of handsome that made me wonder how many people told him so every day.
There was nothing I wanted more than to invite him back to my room, peel away the uncertainty of the day, and finally stop wondering what it would feel like to hold him. But something had shifted. This afternoon he'd been a handsome stranger. Tonight he felt like someone I genuinely wanted to know. That made everything more complicated.
"I'd like that," I said.
We stood, gathering our jackets. As we stepped onto the quiet street, I finally laughed at myself. "I should probably warn you..."
He looked across at me. "I'm very good at overthinking."
"I'd already guessed." He said
I smiled. "If you come back to the hotel with me..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "...I'd love your company." His expression softened. "But?, I'd rather not rush this."
He waited.
"I've had too much to drink to be the man I want to be tonight." I looked down the empty street before meeting his eyes again. "And the truth is..." I smiled sheepishly. "...I like you enough that I don't want our first night together to be a blur."
For a moment he simply looked at me. Then the biggest smile spread across his face. "I think that was the sweetest rejection anyone has given me"
Nervous, I quickly tried to correct myself. “I didn’t mean it like that”
He smiled “I know what you meant; I was just messing with you”
Something inside me relaxed. "Thank you."
The streets were wrapped in the warm hush that comes after midnight. Neither of us seemed in any hurry, our conversation wandering as easily as our footsteps.
When we reached the hotel, I stopped outside my room and held up the keycard.
"This is me."
"I'd figured."
A comfortable silence settled between us. One of those moments where neither person wanted to leave but neither quite knew what came next. He stepped closer.
"I've wanted to kiss you since the gardens."
I smiled. "I've been trying to pretend I hadn't noticed."
He laughed softly. "So..."
I closed the distance between us. The kiss was slow. Unhurried. It wasn't driven by urgency or lust, but by relief. When we finally pulled apart, we were both smiling.
"I thought you said I had to be a good boy," he teased.
"You do."
"So... what are the rules?"
I laughed. "One kiss."
"Only one?"
"For tonight."
He pretended to sigh dramatically. "I suppose I can live with that."
Inside the room, he stopped almost immediately. His eyes settled on the leather harness draped over the chair. "So..." He smiled without looking away. "This is where the mysterious other half lives."
I laughed, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious. "Apparently housekeeping knows more about me than most people."
He walked over and picked up the harness, turning it over thoughtfully before placing it exactly where he'd found it. "I like this."
"The harness?"
He shook his head. "No." He looked back at me. "The fact that the man who spent an hour talking passionately about plants is the same man who owns this."
I couldn't help smiling. "I've spent years thinking I had to keep those worlds separate."
"I hope you don't."
His answer landed more deeply than I expected.
"I'll be two minutes," I said. "I'm going to rinse off."
When I stepped out of the shower, the room had gone quiet. He'd already climbed into bed. One arm tucked beneath his head. Eyes closed. Fast asleep. I couldn't help smiling. "So much for staying up talking."
I switched off the bedside lamp and slipped beneath the covers. For a while I lay in comfortable silence, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Then, still half asleep, he rolled gently towards me. Without opening his eyes, he reached back until he found my hand and guided it around his waist. He settled against me with a contented sigh.
No words.
No expectations.
Just trust.
I rested my forehead lightly against the back of his shoulder and fell asleep.
*******
The next morning, I woke to an empty bed. For a moment, disappointment washed over me. My first thought was that he'd sobered up during the night, decided this was all a mistake, and quietly slipped away before morning. I sat up and looked around the room.
There he was. Standing by the desk, pulling his T-shirt over his head, he somehow looked even better dressed than he had naked. The simple white shirt hugged his shoulders, his jeans fit him perfectly, and with his glasses back on, he looked impossibly handsome—equal parts graduate student and trouble.
I tried not to stare. It wasn't working. The sheets did little to hide the effect he was having on me.
He caught me looking and smiled. "I've got to go," he said. "I need to get set up before everyone arrives."
I asked, "Where exactly do we go from here?"
He leaned casually against the desk. "Where do you want it to go?"
"I've got about a hundred ideas."
His eyes drifted to the harness before returning to me. " I hope so.” He glanced at the clock. "...but, I think the conference might have other plans." He laughed. "I have to spend the whole day volunteering."
"And I'll spend the whole day pretending to listen to botanical lectures."
"Oh, I don't think you'll be pretending."
I smiled. "No..."
He took a step closer. "But every time you look up..." A mischievous grin spread across his face. "...I'll be somewhere in your line of sight."
I laughed. "You're impossible."
"I'm serious, I'll make sure you can't forget I'm here."
I shook my head. "So this is your plan? Haunt me all day?"
He pointed at me playfully. "Exactly. A botanical ghost? A very persistent one."
I couldn't stop smiling. "And when the conference is finally over?"
He held my gaze for a long moment. "Then we can continue where we left off."
The room fell quiet. The anticipation hung between us, far more exciting than either of us rushing the moment. He laughed, leaned down to steal one quick kiss, and slipped out the door. The room suddenly felt much quieter. I headed for the shower. This time I made sure the water was cold.
******
The conference moved at its usual relentless pace. Lectures, Coffee, Hallway conversations, Panels, More coffee.
Every time I settled into a conversation, I'd catch movement out of the corner of my eye. There he was. Just as he'd promised.
Sometimes he'd simply walk past, meeting my eyes for a second before flashing that mischievous smile. Other times he'd pause across the room, pretending to arrange chairs or check registrations while somehow making sure I noticed him.
He was enjoying this. Far too much. And, if I was honest… So was I. The teasing made it almost impossible to concentrate.
Late that afternoon, I slipped away to the washroom between sessions. As I washed my hands, I caught his reflection in the mirror behind me.
He smiled. Without saying a word, he disappeared into one of the stalls. For a heartbeat, I didn't move. Then he tilted his head, silently beckoning me over. I couldn't help smiling.
I stepped inside, and he quietly closed the door behind me. "I don't think I can wait until this evening for another kiss," he whispered.
I laughed under my breath. "We're at a conference."
"I know."
"So this is a terrible idea."
"It probably is."
I stepped closer anyway. The space between us disappeared. Even through our shirts, I could feel the warmth of his body. He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. The kiss was brief. Just long enough to make walking away much harder than it should have been. When we finally pulled apart, he wore the most self-satisfied grin. "There," he said. "Now I can concentrate."
"Liar."
"Completely."
He looked at me for a moment. "So... what are your plans tonight?"
I smiled. "You."
His grin widened. "I was hoping you'd say that."
I shrugged. "I've got the conference dinner first."
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I think I might have a better idea."
"Oh?"
"...something a little more exciting."
Before I could ask another question, he slipped out of the stall and disappeared down the hallway. I stood there for another minute, splashed cold water on my face, and laughed quietly to myself. The boy was impossible.
****
By the end of the afternoon sessions, curiosity had almost completely replaced my ability to concentrate. The conference cocktail reception had begun, and clusters of botanists stood around balancing drinks and animated conversations about plants, travel and research grants. I kept finding myself glancing around the room. Then I saw him. He was carrying a tray of empty glasses, weaving effortlessly through the crowd.
As he passed behind me, his hand brushed mine so naturally that no one else would have noticed. Something small and folded appeared beneath my fingers. He didn't even break stride.
I waited until he'd disappeared before opening it.
Meet me in the lobby. Six o'clock. Dress to play. I'm ready to meet the other side of you. Bring a cigar if you want.
I read it twice. Then a third time. A smile slowly spread across my face. I had absolutely no idea what he had planned. But one thing was certain. I wasn't going to the conference dinner.
*******
I went back to my room; I stood in front of the mirror longer than I'd care to admit. Trying to imagine what he had in store. It made it hard to decide on best attire. I settled on black jeans, heavy boots, and a fitted black T-shirt. On impulse, I slipped my leather harness on beneath it, hidden from view. Maybe it would stay hidden all evening. Maybe it wouldn't. I pulled on my leather jacket, slid two cigars into the inside pocket, adjusted my glasses and smiled at my reflection. Now the botanist was a leather daddy.
The lobby was quiet when I arrived. I checked my watch.
Six o'clock. Right on time.
Moments later, the low rumble of a V8 echoed through the hotel entrance. A glossy black Mustang rolled to a stop in front of me. I couldn't help smiling. I'd always had a weakness for classic muscle cars. The driver's window lowered. Behind the wheel sat Jones, aviator sunglasses on, wearing the kind of crooked grin that suggested he was up to no good.
"You ready?" he asked.
I couldn't help smiling as I opened the passenger door. The rich smell of worn leather greeted me as I climbed inside. My broad frame settled into the seat, boots planted firmly on the floor, one arm draped casually across the door. It felt strangely natural, as though I'd climbed into a place I'd known my whole life.
He looked completely at home behind the wheel. One hand rested lightly on the steering wheel while the other shifted effortlessly through the gears. His damp hair still looked as though he'd only just stepped out of the shower. A loose black muscle shirt revealed just enough of his lean shoulders and arms to leave the rest to the imagination. Black jeans, worn sneakers, aviator sunglasses and a heavy gold chain gave him a rebellious edge that contrasted beautifully with the earnest young botanist I'd met yesterday.
Jones glanced across at me and laughed. "You look like you belong in this car."
"Funny," I replied, running a hand over the stitched leather. "I was just thinking the same thing."
The Mustang eased away from the hotel, its V8 rumbling softly beneath us. For the first time all day, neither of us was flirting from opposite sides of a conference room. There was nowhere we had to be. As we left the city behind, his hand drifted across the centre console until it rested lightly on my knee. He didn't say a word.
Neither did I.
I simply let my hand settle over his for a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze before resting it there. He smiled without taking his eyes off the road.
"You can light up if you want."
I looked across. "In your car?"
He nodded. "We'll put the windows down."
"But the smell..."
"I've got a feeling it belongs here."
I laughed. "You've really thought this through."
"I've been paying attention."
I reached into my jacket, took out a cigar and clipped the end. Every now and then I caught him glancing across, watching with quiet fascination as I lit it. The flame flared briefly before settling into a warm glow. I took a slow draw, then exhaled. A ribbon of blue-grey smoke drifted out through the open window and disappeared into the evening air.
The breeze rolled through the car, carrying the scent of tobacco and summer.
I leaned back, one elbow resting on the window, cigar between my fingers, the deep rumble of the Mustang beneath us. Jones glanced over, smiling to himself.
"What?"
He shook his head. "I don't know..."
He smiled again. "I think this is exactly how I thought of you."
We drove for another few minutes before he rolled the Mustang to a stop at an overlook above the city. The engine ticked softly as it cooled, the only sound besides the breeze drifting through the open windows. Neither of us moved. The skyline stretched out beneath us, but I had the feeling neither of us had come for the view.
"You bring all the boys here?" I asked, taking a slow draw on my cigar.
He smiled. "Only the ones I hope I'll see again."
I laughed quietly. "That's a dangerous answer."
"So was the question."
Silence settled between us again. Comfortable. Expectant. He turned slightly in his seat, studying me with the same curious expression he'd worn all day. His eyes drifted over my jacket, my boots, the cigar between my fingers, before returning to my face. His hand came to rest lightly on my thighs. Not demanding.
He then looked around, as if he wanted to see if anyone else was around. It was clear we were the only ones here, and with that established, he ran his hand up my thighs until it was resting on my crotch, he firmly squeezed, before asking, “May I?” I smiled. Of course. Just checking, A smirk crossed his face before he reached for my belt.
I tried to keep my attention on the cigar, but I'd been anticipating this moment all day.
He worked with deliberate patience, never taking his eyes off me for long. He slowly unzipped my jeans; my bulge almost burst from the seams. He then grabbed the band of my underwear, pulling it up and over my growing hard-on. Releasing me. He reached under and pulled my balls, so I was completely exposed. Every movement seemed designed to stretch the anticipation just a little further.
He then grabbed my cock firmly at the base of the shaft and looked up at me again.
I have been waiting all day for this, he said.
I smiled. "So have I."
The moment his tongue touched the tip of my cock sent a shiver through my body that was electric. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sensation settle before opening them again to watch him. He then slowly descended down my cock, taking me further down his throat, slowly moving toward the base. Once he hit the base, he took a pause before coming back up, dragging his lips along my shaft. He moved with unhurried confidence, never rushing, as though he wanted me to appreciate every second of it.
As he sucked up and down on my cock I could hardly think, almost forgetting about the cigar in my hand. Now aware of it, I brought it back to my lips and drew in a slow breath. The rich smoke grounded me, anchoring me in the moment. There was something about the contrast- the slow ritual of the cigar and the intimacy of him sucking on my cock, that was sensual overload. Each seemed to heighten the other, something that is beyond words.
The cigar settled something inside me.
Smoke drifted from my lips as I rested a hand lightly against the back of his head. Initially, I followed his rhythm rather than directing it. Curious, I applied the slightest pressure. He moved with me instead of against me, adjusting effortlessly, matching every change in pace.
He didn't pull away. The harder I drove the rhythm, the more eagerly he responded, meeting my intensity instead of shrinking it; he leaned into my hand, inviting me to take a little more control.
Our eyes met for just a moment. He smiled. It wasn't submission; it was trust. Something shifted between us.
I removed the cigar from my lips and let the smoke drift into the evening air before taking another slow draw, fueling my confidence. He watched me with an expression that mixed anticipation and admiration. It was then that I decided to turn it up a notch. Placing the cigar back between my lips, I grabbed his head with both hands.
As I did so, he looked up at me and smiled. I took this as permission and got more aggressive, taking charge of the moment. The cigar smoke billowing from my lips, I rammed my cock in and out of his mouth. Now things had shifted from intimacy to raw sexual desire, as I gave him a harsh face fucking. He showed little resistance; instead, he mirrored my motion, adjusting his mouth to take me. He began sucking on me harder and harder the more aggressive I got.
I was getting close, but did not want this to end, so I let him go. He sat up, releasing my cock from his lips. Standing to full attention, it was dripping with his saliva. "That was amazing... Sir." He lingered on the last word, almost testing it, waiting to see how it landed.
I couldn't help smiling back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it... boy." The word settled between us just as naturally.
He smiled wider. Neither of us said anything else. We didn't have to. The dynamic had found us.
I knew at that moment I wanted more, and this car was too tight. I returned the cigar to my lips and stepped out of the car. The cool evening air hit my face, but it did nothing to quiet the heat that had been building between us.
I walked around to the driver's side and opened the door. Come out here, boy, I said. I caught his hand without thinking, quickening my pace as we rounded the front of the car.
He laughed softly, almost breathless. “Someone's impatient."
"You have no idea."
Before he'd finished smiling, I had him backed gently against the side of the car. For a heartbeat we simply looked at each other.
The overlook was silent. The city lights shimmered below us, and the only sound was the wind moving through the trees.
I took the cigar from my lips and leaned in to close the distance. The kiss was nothing like our first. Whatever restraint we'd managed to hold onto evaporated. Gone was the hesitation. It was hungry, days of imagined possibilities compressed into a single moment. His fingers gripped my jacket as though he had no intention of letting me escape, while mine settled on his arse, drawing him closer until there was no space left between us.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing harder.
He rested his forehead against mine and laughed quietly. The intensity between us was almost tangible. He held my gaze, his eyes searching mine, silently asking the question neither of us needed to voice.
What now?
Without answering, I returned the gar to my lips, turned him around, and bent him gently over the car. My hands lingered at his hips before gliding slowly up his back, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. He looked back over his shoulder, anticipation softening into trust. Whatever happened next, he had already decided to give himself to the moment.
His hand reached behind him, searching for me with an impatient grin. He reached around, trying to find my cock, encouraging me to proceed. His confidence only deepened my resolve.
"So this is the part you've been thinking about all day?" I asked.
He laughed under his breath. "You already know the answer."
My hands ran around his waist. He shifted instinctively, leaning back into me. I reached to unbuckle his pants. Once the buttons and zipper were down, I grabbed his pants and pulled them to the ground.
We shared one last lingering glance before I drew him closer, the quiet around us making every movement feel deliberate, every touch amplified.
For a moment, neither of us cared that we were alone in a public place.
The possibility of being discovered didn't frighten us.
If anything, it sharpened the moment.
He looked so hot, naked from waist down, bent over his muscle car. Taking the gar from my lips, I knelt down behind him and spread his arse cheeks. His beautiful pink hole was right in my line of vision. I leaned forward, tongue out, ready to taste him. As I came closer, I took a deep inhale, taking in the smell of sweat and muskiness. I buried my face as deep into his arse, pushing my tongue deep into his hole. I allowed myself to taste him, smell him, and enjoy all of him. His moans only served to egg me on further. I covered his arse with my saliva, allowing it to drip down his crack.
I stood up to admire my handy work, as I ran my fingers along his crack, preparing him for what was coming. My hands moved with calm assurance, never hurried, and I could feel the tension in him melt into eager anticipation.
He looked back again, smiling.
"There he is," he whispered.
"Who?"
"The man I imagined."
I couldn't help but smile.
"Let's not keep him waiting."
I took the cigar and had one long inhale before I put one hand on his head. Holding him down, I guided my cock to his hole. I slowly rubbed the tip of my cock up and down his crack, spreading any remnant saliva up and down his crack. He moaned in anticipation as I teased him more. Finally, without any warning, I lined my cock to his hole and slowly pushed forward with my hips, entering him slowly. He let out a weak moan of resistance as I slowly pushed deeper into him. Once I had pushed myself all the way in. I paused. Allowing him to adjust. I leaned forward so my lips were close to his ear. Are you ready? He nodded enthusiastically
Above us, the stars were beginning to emerge. Below us, the city carried on, oblivious. I'm this moment the rest of the world ceased to exist.
I slowly retracted my cock from his arse, admiring how well he took the whole length. When it was almost fully out, I slammed it back in, pushing his body up against the car. He let out a sharp exhale. I then repeated this over and over. His moans said it all. I picked up the pace. When I pulled my cock fully out, his hungry hole would just beckon me to reenter. And I would do so with full force.
The intensity between us was overwhelming. Everything beyond the two of us dissolved into a blur—the overlook, the city lights, even the possibility that someone might stumble across us. At that moment, nothing else existed. Even the connection we'd been building all day was replaced by pure sexual tension.
The rhythm of my fucking was all we could hear. A continuous, repeated pounding brought us both to the edge. He surrendered himself completely to it, trusting me without hesitation, and I could feel him giving himself over to the moment with a mixture of eagerness and abandon. Until his moans turned to an exhale of release. In that moment I knew he had cum.
I paused for a moment as his body shook with each release. I took the moment to puff on my cigar. Once he was fully spent, but before he could completely relax, I returned the cigar to my lips and resumed fucking him as hard as I could. I showed him little mercy. With some hard thrusts, I brought myself to the edge. I was getting so close.
I finally pushed myself over, finally shooting huge loads deep into the boy's arse. The releases sent a shiver through my body as his sphincter muscles milked each orgasm out of me. In my mental fog, I heard him tell, “yes sir”, “breed me”, “fill me up”. I allowed it all to wash over me as I slowly came down from my orgasmic high.
When it was over, neither of us moved.
His forehead rested against the cool metal of the car while I stood behind him, one hand still on his shoulder. We listened to our breathing slowly return to normal, the silence broken only by the distant hum of traffic drifting up from the city below.
Eventually he turned to face me. Neither of us spoke. We didn't need to. A slow smile spread across his face before he shook his head and laughed. "I don't think I'm ever going to look at this overlook the same way again."
"Probably for the best." He buttoned his jeans, still smiling to himself. He watched me with that same expression he'd worn all afternoon—except now there was certainty behind it.
He stepped closer, slipped his hand into mine, and squeezed it. I smiled. For a moment we simply stood together, looking out over the lights below. Then he nudged my shoulder.
"So..."
"So?"
"Does this mean I have to call you Sir from now on?"
I laughed. "So I will get another chance to see you…"
He grinned. "Yes, Sir. You will be seeing a lot of me. I will always be in your line of sight"
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