Here he stood before me, offering a choice unspoken. All of my attempts at pushing him and our encounter out of my mind for the last three months now lay shattered before me. I hated myself, hated how I couldn’t resist him. Wordlessly, I hit the unlock button on my car, and the sound of the passenger doors unlocking was reverberant in the silence.
Mr. Rodriguez smiled, raised an eyebrow, and took the hint. He came around the hood of the car, easing himself into my passenger side. When I closed the door again and the lights shut off, there was nothing but the two of us…and my cock. His cock. I was going insane.
“Mr. Rodriguez…” I still had the fucking gall to mumble out; “what happened that night…it…it was a mistake.” A mistake. I heard my own voice in my head cackling back at me. “A lapse in judgement. It shouldn’t….” Happen again.
But here he sat. In my car. With his dick hard as a rock and leaking a stain into his pants.
“Forgive me for that night, Mr. Aguinaldo,” he said, and it actually sounded…serious? “No, that was kinda…well, really uncool of me. I barely thought. I barely asked you. I was just so unbelievably horny, I….” He exhaled. “When I saw you for the first time, you were like…it was like…you’d stepped out of a dream.”
His words rocked me to my core. He kept on going, certainly taking in my surprise. “I got drunk. I was so horny for you, that I tried to rope in my wife.” A scoffing sigh escaped his throat. “Nitya…she was a freak when we first started dating, but now, ten years, two kids later, shit’s tough. Like asking a rock to cry. Then you were there….” He shook his head. “Forgive me, man. I should’ve properly asked you. But fuck…the sight of you. You’re fucking…god!”
I could feel my face flush with heat. “Rachael is the only one I know that likes big men.”
Mr. Rodriguez grinned, and I wanted to melt. “Whoever says they don’t like big men, like you, Mr. Aguinaldo, is missing a screw.” We shared a laugh, and he put his hand on my forearm. He prodded me with a finger, stroking my exposed arm hairs. I was suddenly keenly aware of the fact that I was topless, and my smock was stripped down to my waist.
“But still…” he was saying, his voice dropping low, lower than before; “I should’ve asked for your permission before I sucked your fat, delicious brown cock.” My breath escaped in a shudder. “I’ll always ask for permission next time. Sound good?”
“Next time?” I baulked at him. “Mr. Rodriguez, forgive me–there won’t be a next time.”
His smile was sad…no…mischievous. “Mr. Aguinaldo…I’m sitting in your car. You let me in. I’m afraid I’m getting mixed signals here?”
My eyes had grown used to the darkness and I could see him closer now. His nipples poked through his shirt, distending the logo some. The wet spot on his grey sweatpants, no longer ignorable, was at least the size of his palm. ‘Oh,’ I thought absently; ‘he leaks a lot too.’
He caught me staring. His grip on my forearm became more insistent. The windows clouded up again. Time froze to a standstill, and only he moved as he inched closer to me; his eyes trailed the soft peaks and valleys of my body.
“I won’t do anything you don’t approve of,” he was whispering to me. “Mr. Aguinaldo…will you let me?” Let him…? I swallowed. Hard. My cock bounced in my fucking jock, wanting to be freed. He didn’t miss it. “Mr. Aguinaldo, will you let me touch your cock? Please?”
And at that moment, I didn’t have the power to say no. I don’t know if I ever did. I pulled back on the seat lever, and as my seat angled back and me with it, I saw the hunger dance in his eyes. He feasted on my body. He was going to eat me.
And still, he lingered, though I was fully inclined back. He hummed and growled his contentment, but only wrung his hands together. I realised what I had to do next.
“Mr. Rodriguez?”
“Yes.”
“…you can…touch me.”
And from then on, there were no words left, no barriers to hide behind. He leaned over, his lithe form barely eclipsing mine, and I felt him tug at my jockstrap. My cock, no doubt by now drenched with precum, sprung free and hit his stubbled chin. I groaned loudly at the sensation.
“Fuck, you smell so fucking good…your jock, fuck. Amazing….” He muttered these words like a man deprived as he rooted around my cock and balls and even my taint. His stubble pricked me as he went along, and his saliva soothed the burn. I was going absolutely insane. He felt amazing. He was an expert around cock.
He took me into his mouth and I thought I was going to fall through the floor of the car. He sucked, hungry and desperate, wanting his second meal from my fat brown dick. I put my arms behind my head, and he wasted no time at all, reaching into my cleavage, kneading my tits. How did he know…? But it didn’t matter. He was driving me insane, and he knew it.
Soon he was toying with my nipples, and it was almost too much to bear. I bucked in his mouth while he, with his other hand, kneaded my soft, sore nuts. Sometimes, he’d come up for air, and I felt the strings of saliva and cock juice stretch and extend from my cockhead to his lips. And he’d dive back down.
At some point he’d let go of me entirely, only to pull down his pants. And again, I heard that familiar, long-missing wet slap of him jacking off his own cock. Fuck. I needed to see it…. I put a hand on his back.
“Mr. Rodriguez, I…can I suck your dick too?”
He let out that addicting low, throaty laugh he did. “Thank you for asking.” And then it was his turn to lean back in his seat. I could see now, his dick was just a touch bigger than I initially thought, but only because it had a wicked upward curve. It was the definition of a banana dick. And the smell that poured off of it was insane. Unshowered, but not offensive. The smell of a man. The cock I’d run away from, now here before me.
I swallowed him down, gingerly at first because it was harder to navigate curved cocks, but I eventually found a good position. He seemed to think so too, because his body straightened out and shuddered as I sucked down most of the way to his nuts. His huge, fucking nuts, covered in wiry salt-and-pepper pubes. He smelled luxurious. My eyes rolled back in my head as I sucked him down.
He was going off in Spanish at me. I caught clippings of his desperation–“chupame, papi oso”. Suck my cock, bear daddy. I was losing myself to him. Soon, we had switched positions, and it was me jacking off furiously while I sucked him off.
I could feel him become harder in my mouth; his cock giving errant, approaching-orgasm pulses. To my surprise, he pushed back on my shoulders. When I sat back upright, I could see bare desperation in his eyes, in the ragged way his chest heaved with his panting. “Why…?” I muttered.
“I’m so close to cumming,” he muttered. “I wanna see you shoot, Mr. Aguinaldo. I wanna see you cum.”
Soon, we were both leaning back in our seats, furiously pumping our own cocks as we stared at each other. My eyes roved from his cock, to my own, to his eyes. Hazy with lust. I looked down at my own cock, staring at how my heavy fist just barely closed around my girth, while I pumped up and down on my wet seven inches. Mr. Rodriguez handled his cock in a way I hadn’t seen a man do to himself before, twisting his fingers like opening a bottle. The sight was mesmerising.