The following is fiction. I do not condone unsafe sex, so take this as mere fantasy, for that is what it is.
*
There it is, that old beech tree. I haven't been back here in well over a year. But, my last memories of this place, like most passionate, life-changing events, are vivid enough to have been yesterday. I can still feel the abrasions that marked my chest for days after. They faded with time, but the emotional marks are still fresh and biting. But, we'll get to that in a bit.
The first time I saw him, he was not much more than a blur of movement and buzzing wheels. I was reading some book, I don't even remember which one now, on a bench across the path from my beech tree. Passersby every now and then would break me out of my thoughts, some giving a gentle nod, others just a cursory glance before moving on down the path. I returned the nods, smiled at one or two of the prettier ladies, letting my eyes wander over shapely legs and backsides as they passed, and generally enjoyed my afternoon in the park. The first time, he was just another nameless ghost flitting in and out of my world. It wasn't until the second appearance that I truly saw him.
It's odd what we notice about people, especially only at a glance. Some might say what you first take notice on someone says a lot about your personality. I don't know about that. I do know that my first impression of the mystery man was his shadow.
I shiver now, remembering the cold, slightly ominous energy that surrounded me. My eyes darted from my book, to the ground at my left. Muscular, naked calves, clean-shaven and rippling with power, led to even stronger looking thighs, squeezed into lycra bike shorts. And, they were tight. Not a bit was left to my imagination as to what lay beneath those shorts. I sat there, somewhere between awe-struck and befuddled, taking in the bulbous contours of his not so private parts.
"Look at me." The voice shocked me; quiet, but full of power. And danger. I looked up into his eyes, and was lost.
Up to this point in my life, I'd considered myself completely heterosexual. But, what this man did to me, just through his eyes, no woman had ever done. I'd heard countless women say they could get lost in a man's eyes, and, hell, I'd gotten lost in a few women's eyes, myself. But, this, this was so much more. His eyes held me, paralyzed, desperate to look away, but knowing I could not. His smirk showed me he knew he had me. He probably knew long before I did, to tell the truth.
"Come," he all but whispered, again. At first, my brain thought he was asking me to, well, come, right then and there. And, given another few seconds of the closeness of his presence and the daggers in his eyes, I probably would have. But, he dispelled that thought quickly.
"Get up, now." I did. He glanced down at the book, still clasped in my hand, one finger marking where he'd interrupted me.
"Leave the literature. You won't be needing it." I looked dumbly down at the book, and tossed it on the bench. He flipped down the kick-stand of his bike, leaving it just off the trail. Not once glancing at me again, he strode across the road. My own legs pulled me with him, completely of their own will. My conscious mind had checked out, long ago.
When he slipped behind the beech tree, out of my sight, my pace actually quickened to catch up to him. I didn't want to waste a second without him in my field of view. He was leaning against the tall hardwood, arms folded over his chest, one leg cocked out, making a V, his manhood at the apex. He caught me staring, again.
"Ahem!" My eyes snapped up to meet his. A soft chuckle erupted from his throat. I'm sure I was blushing, badly. "You are special, aren't you?" His smile was not disarming. "You know what's going to happen, don't you?" I didn't respond. "Of course you do. I'm going to fuck you." The gravity of that statement almost knocked me to the ground. He laughed again. "I'm afraid you might hurt yourself if you faint. Why don't you get down on your knees?"
I fell to my knees with a gasp. My head was spinning, delirious, drunk on his power. Grasping his thighs to stop the world from moving, I realized I had crossed a boundary. Looking up at him, eyes pleading for permission, or perhaps absolution for an unnamed sin, he only nodded.
My heart in my throat, I looked back at his crotch, this time, unabashed. The contours of his cock were plainly outlined in the super-tight shorts. This close, I could see it throb with every beat of his heart. Bringing my lips within a whisper, I felt the heat coming off him, and my skin tingled. I turned my head, and gently, so gently, brushed my cheek against him. I heard him inhale, and I whimpered, softly. Closing my eyes, I kept the gentle contact for several moments, feeling his cock harden against me. Turning towards him, I gently placed a kiss on the shaft, just above the head, then ran a finger along the length, and over the mushroom head. He hissed as I squeezed the plump flesh lightly, watching it come back even fuller. When I scraped my nails over his bulging sack, he groaned, leaning one arm on my shoulder. I looked up into his face, and grinned.
