A gay story: Carl Submits To Peter Ch. 01
In the heat of Summer the streets of Paris hummed with a gentle rhythm as twilight descended over the city.
Carl was looking forward to relaxing after a long day at work. The 42 year-old man had a sturdy and comforting frame. His chestnut-colored hair matched the scruffy beard framing his face. His hazel eyes conveyed a blend of curiosity and timidity. After leaving his low-paying job at City Hall, Carl had changed into casual and comfortable clothes. He was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans. His white tank top highlighted his hairy chest.
Carl headed to a bar in Le Marais, Paris historical LGBT neighborhood. He entered a gay bar and ordered a beer.
Across the room, Peter stood tall and commanding. He was in his mid-thirties. His muscular physique filled out a sleek blue shirt, tailored to accentuate every contour of his powerful frame. A pair of loop earrings dangled from his ears, catching the soft glow of the bar lights as he leaned casually against the counter. Peter’s presence was magnetic. His dark hair was swept back with a casual elegance. His face was chiseled with determination and framed by a strong jawline. His emerald-green eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanned the room.
As Carl’s gaze wandered, it inevitably settled on Peter. A wave of heat washed over him, stirring a primal longing he couldn’t quite define. It wasn’t just Peter’s physical attractiveness that captivated him, but an inexplicable pull. In that fleeting moment, amidst the ambient hum of voices and clinking glasses, Carl felt a stirring in his chest. Across the room, Peter turned slightly, catching Carl’s gaze for a brief, electric moment. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a wordless acknowledgment of a connection yet to be explored.
After finishing his beer, Carl had to take a piss. He headed towards the back of the bar. The soft amber glow of the bar’s ambiance faded into the utilitarian brightness of the restroom as Carl pushed open the heavy door. Navigating past the row of sinks, he approached the line of urinals, his mind still lingering on the magnetic presence of Peter. He chose a spot at he end, a calculated decision to maintain a respectful distance with other patrons. He focused on the task at hand, the steady stream splashing softly into the urinal as he sought a moment’s reprieve from the tension coiling within.
Moments later, the door creaked open again. Carl’s pulse quickened imperceptibly as Peter entered the restroom, moving with a confident stride that seemed to command attention even in this mundane setting. Without hesitation, Peter approached the urinal adjacent to Carl’s.
Carl couldn’t help but steal a sidelong glance. Sensing Carl’s gaze, Peter turned slightly, his eyes meeting Carl’s with a knowing glint. There was a flicker of amusement in his expression, tempered by a raw intensity that held Carl captive.
“Enjoying the view?” Peter’s voice was low and husky, a velvet undertone that sent a shiver down Carl’s spine. Caught off guard yet strangely exhilarated, Carl cleared his throat, a nervous chuckle escaping him.
“I, uh, can’t say I’m not.” Carl answered. Peter’s smirk widened.
“Good. Would you want to touch it?” he asked.
“I would love to, Sir”, Carl answered. He could not believe that such a sexy stud would take an interest in him. His heart was pounding as he thought of what would come next.
“Oh, I see you have manners. Good boy. Follow me.” Peter replied while zipping up his pants. Peter grabbed Carl by the arm and took him to the toilet for disabled people. He locked the door behind them, giving them plenty of space.
“Take off your shirt” Peter said. Carl complied immediately, revealing his hairy dad bod and his erect nipples. Peter ran his hands on Carl’s chest, gave him a kiss in the neck. He noticed the prominent nipples and started pinching them. Carl couldn’t hold a slight moan.
“You like that, don’t you? Get on your knees”. Carl obeyed, his face pressed against Peter’s generous bulge. Peter forced Carl’s face against his crotch. Carl felt the excitement rising, his cock got hard instantly as his head was brushing against Peter’s pants. Carl unzipped his pants, pulled off his cock, and started stroking.
“Did I tell you could touch your cock, boy?” Peter asked.
“No Sir” Carl replied.
Peter dropped his pants and underwear, revealing his 8 inch rock-hard cock and his bush.
“Worship my cock and balls, fag” he said.
Carl dug in. He swallowed the stud’s balls avidly. With the heat of the summer, both men were sweating profusely. Peter started leaking precum and washed it off on Carl’s beard. The Dominant’s sweaty and manly sent was heaven for the boy. He forgot all his daily worries and gave long licks to the top’s cock. He was so horny that he reached down to touch his own cock which had stayed hard the whole time.
“Hands off your cock, I said. You can’t service my cock properly if you keep fiddling with that nub of yours” Peter said.
“Yes Sir, sorry Sir” Carl replied.
“I’m afraid I can’t take your word for it, fag. You have already misbehaved twice. Luckily for you, I have just what you need to keep you focused on what matters” Peter said, as he took out a pair of handcuffs out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Hands up boy.”
Peter grabbed Carl’s hands and cuffed them to a bar fixed on the wall. Carl was now sitting on the floor, back against the wall, hands cuffed above his head. Peter stood in front of him, pull the sub’s pants and said: “Much better. Now spread your legs while I fuck your face.”
Peter kicked Carl’s exposed crotch. The boy screamed in pain.
“This will teach you not to touch your cock without permission, fag” Peter added.
While Peter was pounding Carl’s face with his huge dick, he kept crushing the sub’s cock and balls with his leather shoes. As Carl’s was suffering from having his manhood tortured, he was getting even hornier. Finally Peter came into Carl’s throat and said “Don’t you dare waste a single drop of my precious cum, fag”.
Peter freed Carl’s hands. Both men dressed back up and went back to the bar. Peter ordered two pints and started chatting with Carl.
“Did you like that?”
“Yes Sir! Your cock felt so good! I only wish you had fucked my ass down there!”
“You have to earn the right to get fucked. Only my subs get that privilege.”
“Please Sir, will you ever fuck my ass?” Carl asked, so desperate to get his hole filled by top’s thick dick.
“You seem like a good boy, but you still have much to learn. Do you want me to be your Master and teach you to be a better sub?”
“I would love that Sir!”
“Good.” Peter took a business card out of his wallet and scribbled something on it. “This will be your fist assignment. This is the card of a sex shop. Be there on Saturday at 6 pm. I have written my number too, send me yours when you can. I am Peter, you will call me Sir Peter. What’s your name?”
“Thank you Sir Peter. My name is Carl.”
Carl went back home, hornier than he had ever been. He could not help but to fantasize about what would happen with his new Master…