Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy. All characters are adults and have fully consented to the depicted roleplay scenario. In real life, always practise safe sex and enthusiastic consent.
Content warning: Explicit male/male sex, public exposure elements, cash-for-sex roleplay, oral sex, anal sex, internal ejaculation.
Hunter stepped out of the stairwell onto the second level of the multi-storey car park just after seven. Fluorescent tubes buzzed overhead and threw hard white light across the concrete. The air carried the sharp tang of oil and tyre rubber. A handful of cars sat scattered across the bays. Most of the spaces stood empty.
He spotted the man near a dark blue hatchback at the far end of the row. Mid-twenties, roughly five-eleven, lean under a plain grey t-shirt and faded jeans. Short dark hair, light stubble along the jaw. He stood with his weight shifted onto one leg, phone in one hand, glancing up the ramp every few seconds.
Hunter walked over and stopped a few feet short.
“You the one from the app?”
The man looked up. Blue eyes, a quick flicker of assessment. “Yeah. Hunter?”
“That’s me.” Hunter kept his voice warm and level. “Empty tonight. Good spot.”
The man gave a short nod and pocketed the phone. “Didn’t want to meet somewhere more public.”
“This works. Fewer people. Easier to talk.” Hunter tilted his head toward the open space beyond the cars. “You free for a bit?”
“Depends what you want.”
Hunter smiled without pushing. “Conversation first. Then we see.” He gestured at the empty bay beside the hatchback. “You drive?”
“Yeah. Got here twenty minutes ago.”
They stood in the open for a minute, the fluorescent hum the only real sound. Hunter kept the talk light - traffic, the weather, how long the man had lived in the city. The answers came short and clipped at first. Shoulders stayed a little high. After a while the man leaned back against the side of his car and folded his arms.
Hunter let the silence sit, then said, “You know why I messaged.”
The man exhaled through his nose. “Cash. You said cash.”
“That’s the idea. Simple. I ask, you decide how far. Nothing happens you don’t agree to.”
The man looked away toward the exit ramp. “I’m not… I’ve never done anything like this.”
“That’s fine. Most haven’t.” Hunter’s tone stayed even. “We start small. I want to see what you’ve got. Just a look.”
The man’s jaw tightened. He shifted his weight again, one boot scraping the concrete. “Here? In the open?”
“Between the cars. No cameras covering this corner. Lights are bright enough but the angle’s bad for anyone upstairs.” Hunter waited. “Or we can move if you’d rather.”
The man muttered something under his breath, then pushed off the car and stepped into the shadow between his hatchback and the next vehicle. Hunter followed, leaving a clear line of sight back toward the stairwell so either of them could walk away.
The man faced the wall, hands at his belt. He hesitated, fingers hooked on the button of his jeans. Shoulders locked. Breath held a fraction too long. Hunter stayed quiet, watching.
The jeans opened. The man pushed the waistband down just enough. His cock came free, mostly soft, resting against the dark fabric of his briefs. Average length, good thickness even at rest, a clean cut head. Hunter’s gaze stayed on it for several seconds, taking in the shape and the way it hung.
Hunter peeled a few notes from the small fold in his pocket and held them out. The man took them, folded them once, and shoved them into his back pocket without counting.
Hunter nodded toward the cock. “Can I touch it?”
The man made a small sound in his throat. “Christ. You’re not messing about.”
“I never do.” Hunter kept his hands visible. “Just a few strokes. See how it feels.”
A longer pause. The man’s fingers flexed at his sides. Then he gave a short, reluctant nod. Hunter stepped closer, still leaving space, and wrapped his hand around the soft length. Warm skin, a little give. He stroked once from base to head, then again. The cock responded almost at once, filling out under the pressure, the head emerging further as blood moved.
Hunter kept the motion unhurried. He felt the shaft firm against his palm, the skin sliding smooth over the growing hardness. A faint twitch ran through it. The man shifted his stance, hips tilting half an inch forward before he caught himself and locked them still.
The cock stood fully hard now, thick and warm, the head flushed darker. Hunter released it and stepped back.
“Want to go further?”
The man glanced down at his own cock, still upright and exposed, then at the empty bay. “What now?”
“I suck it. Here, or in the car if you’d rather sit.”
The man’s shoulders rose and fell. He muttered a short protest - “Fucking hell” - but the words carried no real heat. He looked toward his car, then back. “Car. Windows up. Quick.”
They moved. The man opened the driver’s door and slid in. Hunter went around to the passenger side. The interior smelled of old fabric and faint aftershave. Doors closed. The fluorescent light outside painted thin stripes across the dashboard. Hunter’s smart glasses sat light on his face, the small recording indicator a soft red pinprick visible only if someone looked for it. The man either didn’t notice or chose not to mention it.
Hunter leaned across the centre console. The man stayed upright in the seat, jeans still open, cock hard against his stomach. Hunter reached over and took hold again, angling it toward his mouth. He licked once across the head, tasted the first thin film of precum, then opened wider and took the first three inches in.
The man made a low sound, half protest, half something else. His hand gripped the steering wheel. Hunter worked lower, tongue flat against the underside, lips sealed. The cock filled his mouth, thick enough to stretch the corners. He pulled back, let the head rest on his tongue, then sank down again, slower this time, taking more.
Outside the car a pair of headlights swept past on the level below. Neither of them moved until the light faded. Hunter kept sucking, one hand wrapped around the base so he could stroke what his mouth didn’t cover. Spit slicked the shaft. The man shifted in the seat, thighs tensing, hips giving small involuntary pushes.
Hunter pulled off with a wet sound and looked up. “You can fuck my mouth if you want. No extra charge.”
The man stared at him for a second, breathing hard. Then his hand left the wheel and settled on the back of Hunter’s head. Hunter took the cock in again and stayed still. The man thrust once, careful, then again, finding a short rhythm. The head hit the back of Hunter’s throat on the deeper strokes. Hunter breathed through his nose and took it, letting the man set the pace.
After a minute the thrusts grew less controlled. Hunter felt the cock swell thicker, the pulses starting. He pulled off before it went further and sat back.
“Not yet,” he said. “Still more we can do.”
The man’s voice came rough. “How much more?”
Hunter wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I want you to fuck me. In the back seat. You’ve already got some cash. I’ll double what you’ve got and we’re done.”
Silence filled the car. The man looked out through the windscreen at the concrete wall, then down at his cock still wet and hard. His shoulders stayed tight. “I’ve never… with a guy.”
“I know. That’s the point of the fantasy.” Hunter kept his tone calm, almost conversational. “You stay in character. I stay in character. We both leave satisfied. Cash is already in my pocket.”
Another long pause. The man’s fingers drummed once on the steering wheel. Then he reached back and unlocked the rear doors.
They climbed into the back. The space was tight. Hunter stripped his jeans and underwear down to his knees, then further, and braced one knee on the seat, one foot on the floor. He spit into his hand, reached behind, and worked two fingers into himself while the man watched. The stretch burned for a second, then eased. Hunter added more spit, opened himself wider, and looked over his shoulder.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
The man hesitated again, cock in his hand, stroking himself once. Then he shifted forward on his knees. The head of his cock pressed against Hunter’s hole. He pushed. The first inch went in slow. Hunter breathed out and pushed back to meet it. The man sank deeper, another two inches, then paused, breathing hard against Hunter’s shoulder.
“Fuck,” the man muttered. “Tight.”
“Keep going.”
He did. The remaining length slid in until his hips met Hunter’s ass. They stayed locked for a few seconds, both adjusting. Then the man pulled back and thrust again, shorter this time, finding the angle. Hunter braced a hand against the door and took it. The cock filled him completely, thick enough to stretch the rim with every stroke. The rhythm built - shorter at first, then harder as the man lost some of the careful control.
The car rocked on its springs. Outside the fluorescent lights continued their constant buzz. No one walked past. Hunter reached under himself and stroked his own cock in time with the thrusts. Precum slicked his fingers. The man gripped Hunter’s hip with one hand and drove deeper, the wet sound of skin on skin filling the small space.
“I’m gonna cum,” the man said, voice strained.
“Do it. Inside.”
The thrusts turned short and sharp. The man buried himself to the base and held there, cock pulsing hard as he emptied. Hunter felt the heat of the load, the rhythmic jerks, the way the man’s breath caught and broke. After the last pulse the man stayed pressed against him for several seconds, then carefully pulled out.
Hunter turned on the seat, still hard. He stroked himself twice and came across his own stomach, thick ropes landing on skin and the edge of his shirt. The release left his thighs trembling for a moment.
They cleaned up with tissues from the glove box. Jeans were pulled back up. Shirts straightened. The man sat in the front seat again, staring at the dashboard while Hunter peeled off the remaining notes and handed them over. The man took them without speaking and stuffed them into his pocket with the earlier bills.
Hunter opened the passenger door. “You did well. Stayed in it the whole way.”
The man gave a short nod, still not looking directly at him. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Hunter stepped out onto the concrete. “Drive safe.”
The hatchback’s engine started a minute later. The car reversed out of the bay and headed for the exit ramp. Hunter watched the taillights disappear, then took out his phone. The deposit notification arrived within thirty seconds - full amount returned, as agreed.
He walked back toward the stairwell, the fluorescent hum following him the whole way down.
Thank you so much for reading.
This is a taster of a new series I’m working on, inspired by the infamous ‘Czech Hunter’ videos. I wanted to capture that same vibe in writing because it has always been one of my go-to fantasies when I’m looking for something to watch. I hope this series of standalones featuring Hunter [as I’ve so lovingly and obviously named him in homage] will capture the imagination of those who read it.
More stories will come, but until then you can find more of my writing on my website. If you have any capacity to share, whether that’s sharing the stories or offering financial support, I would be immensely grateful. Hope you enjoy. Comments are always welcome, or reach out to me at the email address on my website.
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