Pedicab Driver

Pedicab Driver

It was a Sunday evening, and I was on my way home, burdened with a week's worth of pent-up desire. Having stayed off gay sites for days, my urges simmered beneath the surface. The distance from the station to my house was long, so I opted for a pedicab.

A line of pedicabs stood before me, their drivers waiting in the dim light. As I walked past them, my gaze landed on one man who immediately caught my attention.

He was in his early thirties. His skin--a deep bronze, likely from years of working under the sun. A sleeveless undershirt clung to his frame, exposing strong, muscular arms. His broad chest tapered into a firm, flat stomach. Thick thighs. Powerful calves. But what truly captivated me--his face. Chiseled features. A hint of stubble. Rugged charm, a man in his prime.

Without thinking, I climbed into his pedicab. A silent thrill rushed through me.

---

As he pedaled, his body moved in a mesmerizing rhythm. Muscles flexed. Relaxed. Each motion a study in quiet power.

I watched. Entranced. My mind spun wild fantasies.

The ride stretched on. Each second heightened my anticipation. Then, as we veered onto a more secluded path, darkness emboldened me.

I leaned forward, my voice barely above a whisper. "Uncle, how much for the ride?"

"Just five."

Deep. Rich. Magnetic.

My heart pounded. "But I only have four." A lie--woven in breathless anticipation.

Silence. Five seconds. Ten.

Then, he didn't stop me.

My fingers trembled, yet eager. They slipped beneath his waistband.

Heat.

My touch grew bolder, my grip firmer. A shudder ran through him, a low, guttural sound escaping his chest.

His cock swelled beneath my touch. Thick. Heavy. His shorts tented obscenely--the outline of his arousal unmistakable.

No one was around to see. No reason to hold back.

---

The road changed beneath us. Then--stillness.

I glanced up. We were deep in the wilderness.

He climbed out of the pedicab. His gaze dark. Unreadable. But his eyes burned with unspoken desire.

Without a word, he moved toward me.

I knelt before him. My hands traced down his legs, slowly removing his worn shoes. I leaned in, inhaling the musky scent of sweat and leather.

Primal.

My lips brushed against the fabric of his socks. Then, my tongue flicked over the rough material.

With deliberate slowness, I peeled them off using only my mouth.

Bare feet. Calloused. Strong. They rested in my palms.

I worshipped them.

Pressing kisses along his arches. Tongue tracing patterns over his toes. My lips followed the curve of his ankles, his calves, then his thick, muscular thighs. I nipped at firm flesh, savoring how he tensed beneath my touch.

Every time--I stopped just short of his inner thigh.

---

I climbed onto him. Straddling his lap. Rubbing against him.

Our lips met. Teasing. Tasting.

His breath--hot against my skin.

I peeled away his undershirt. Sculpted torso revealed. Broad chest. Taut stomach. I kissed my way downward, fingers working his waistband lower. Exposing him. Inch by inch.

He still hadn't spoken.

But his body told me everything.

My fingers curled around his thickness. Stroking. Exploring.

And then--I took him into my mouth.

Heavy on my tongue. His taste--intoxicating.

Time blurred. My jaw ached. But I refused to stop.

His breathing--ragged. His grip tightened in my hair. Then--a sharp gasp.

He lost control.

Heat spilled deep down my throat.

I pulled away, coughing slightly. My throat burned from the force of his release. He sat up, watching me. Something almost like guilt flickered in his expression.

I shook my head.

No apologies.

This was exactly what I wanted.

---

But he wasn't done.

Before I could react, strong hands wrapped around my waist. Effortlessly, he lifted me. Positioned me over him.

Pressed me down.

I gasped. My body adjusted to his size. The stretch--intense yet electrifying.

He held me there. Savoring the feeling.

And then--he moved.

Rhythm.

I lost myself in it.

My arms clung to his shoulders. My head buried against his chest. He took control. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through me.

Unraveling me.

I cried out, body shuddering.

Then--I let go.

Pleasure exploded within me.

At the same time, I felt him reach his own climax. Heat spilled deep inside me.

For a long moment, we remained tangled together. Bodies slick with sweat. Breathing heavy.

Eventually, he softened within me. But I refused to move. I pressed my forehead against his chest.

His heartbeat--steady.

Sleep claimed me.

---

By morning, I knew one thing.

This wouldn't be our last time.

After all, he was a man with a family. Responsibilities. A life beyond this.

Our worlds--different.

But in those stolen moments, we found something raw. Something real.

And sometimes, that was enough.