He's always been the strong, silent type, but an irresistibly sexy man with the magic touch can turn him into an insatiable bottom. In the finale to the popular series, his boyfriend feels bad about the social fallout our hero suffered from last time, so he rents a cabin in the middle of nowhere, where they can make as much noise as they want!
“Okay, seriously, where are we going?”
I’m blindfolded and strapped into the passenger seat of his car. I can hear the rush of the highway to my right, and feel warm golden sun on my shoulder. The window is cracked open, and I can smell fresh flowers and grass and things growing. He has the radio on, probably to try to mask the noise of the roads, but I can still tell that we haven’t passed another car or truck in a while. We must be way out in the country by now.
I shift in his seat. It’s a leather bucket seat and its low height makes me feel like I’m being carried off somewhere. I was all excited this morning, when he picked me up for our trip to a mystery destination. But when he whipped the blindfold out of his vest pocket, I nearly got out of the car and slammed the door on him.
This is driving me totally fucking crazy. I try to narrow it down by process of elimination. “Are we going to the beach? I bet we’re going to the beach, right?”
“You’ll see,” he chirps.
I’m getting really turned on by this. I don’t have a hard-on or anything, at least not yet, but being completely at this man’s mercy is making me shiver and tremble, like lightning is shooting up from my asshole to the top of my head. Yeah, he can blindfold me and take me anywhere he wants to. He can make me melt under his touch, make me beg him to fuck me in the ass, make me howl.
I sense the car slowing down, drifting off the highway, and coming to a gradual stop. The turn signal clicks on.
“Are we close?” I ask.
“Not really,” comes the reply.
He starts driving again, but this time slowly, maybe not more than thirty miles an hour, down a road with a lot of twists and turns. The warm sunlight gets replaced by cool shadows and birds chirping. We must be somewhere deep in the woods.
“Are we going camping?” I ask. “I’m a city kid, remember. I never been camping before.”
“You’ll see,” he assures me.
After what seems like an eternity, he pulls over and parks the car. I feel his nimble fingers reaching behind my head, untying the blindfold.
I blink a few times, to adjust my eyes to the light. We’re in a parking lot in front of a country-cottage motel way out in the middle of nowhere. There’s big trees all around, and very few cars. He turns off the engine and unlocks his seat belt.
About Alastair Anders
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Published October 22, 2012
Erotica, Gay & Lesbian, Literature & Fiction.