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.
