It began as a faint curl of smoke, barely perceptible against the damp, earthy air of the woods. I paused mid-step, nostrils flaring as the scent caught me off guard. It wasn’t the acrid tang of a cigarette—this was richer, heavier, layered with notes of leather and spice. A cigar. Not just any cigar, but one that exuded power, wealth, and indulgence. The kind a man smoked when he was in complete control of his surroundings. My pulse quickened, heat stirring low in my belly. I didn’t know who was out here, but I knew I needed to find him.
The moonlight barely reached the forest floor, but the trail seemed to pull me forward, my footsteps soft against the moss and leaves. Every few paces, the scent grew stronger, teasing me, guiding me deeper into the shadows. My breath hitched as my thoughts spiraled—what kind of man would be out here, smoking a cigar like that? Was he alone? Was he waiting? My body reacted before my mind could process it, a slow, spreading heat tightening my chest, my cock already pressing against the seam of my jeans.
The clearing appeared suddenly, shrouded in darkness save for the faint glow of the cigar’s ember. My heart skipped a beat as my eyes adjusted. There he was.
He stood near a tree, massive and imposing, his presence filling the space as though the woods themselves bowed to him. He was older—much older than me—his bald head ringed with a fringe of silver hair, a thick white mustache framing a stern mouth that held the cigar firmly in place. His broad, portly frame was wrapped in a dark pinstripe suit that seemed out of place here yet made perfect sense. He belonged anywhere he chose to stand. The suit stretched slightly at his belly, the fabric impeccable despite the wilderness. He exhaled a plume of smoke, and the air thickened, the scent enveloping me like a warm hand around my throat.
I froze, unable to move or speak. His eyes—sharp, assessing—locked onto mine. He took another slow pull from the cigar, the ember glowing brighter, illuminating the mustache that twitched as a small smirk curled his lips. He said nothing for a long moment, letting the smoke curl lazily around him. The weight of his gaze pinned me in place, every second stretching taut with unspoken authority. My knees felt weak. I wanted to kneel. I wanted to do anything he asked.
“You lost, boy?” His voice was low and gravelly, the kind of voice that didn’t ask questions so much as demand answers. The cigar bobbed as he spoke, the smoke adding a growling undertone to his words. I swallowed hard, shaking my head, unable to form words. His smirk deepened. “No, I didn’t think so.”
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his polished shoes crunching softly on the leaves. The scent of the cigar intensified as he closed the distance, filling my lungs, clouding my thoughts. “You came looking for something, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less commanding. I nodded, my heart pounding against my ribs.
“Good,” he said, taking another long drag. He tilted his head slightly, exhaling the smoke directly toward me. It swirled around my face, warm and intoxicating. “Then get on your knees.”
The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I obeyed instantly, dropping to the ground without hesitation. The damp earth pressed against my knees, but I barely noticed. My gaze stayed fixed on him as he loomed over me, his broad frame casting a shadow that felt heavier than the night itself. The cigar’s ember glowed faintly, illuminating his face—a face etched with authority, amusement, and just the faintest hint of indulgence.
He took his time. Slowly, he undid the buttons of his suit jacket, letting it hang open as he worked his belt free with deliberate precision. The sound of the leather sliding through the loops made my breath catch. He tugged down the zipper, parting his trousers enough to pull himself free. My lips parted in an involuntary gasp.
His cock was massive—thick, veined, and uncut, the foreskin still partially covering the swollen head. Even in the faint light, it looked heavy, commanding, the kind of cock that demanded submission. My mouth watered, my pulse racing as I leaned forward instinctively.
“Not yet,” he said sharply, holding up a hand. I froze, my body taut with anticipation. He brought the cigar back to his lips, drawing deeply, the ember flaring bright. He exhaled slowly, letting the smoke settle over me. “You wait until I tell you, boy.”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice trembling. His smirk returned, pleased.
“Good. You learn fast.” He reached down, gripping the back of my head with one broad hand. His fingers were firm, controlling, not cruel. He guided me forward, pressing the thick head of his cock against my lips. “Now open.”
I obeyed, my lips parting, my tongue flicking out to taste him. Salt and musk hit my senses, and I moaned softly, letting him slide into my mouth. He groaned low, the sound vibrating through my chest. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Take it slow. Get used to it.”
I worked my tongue around the girth, savoring the heat and weight of him. The foreskin slid back as I took him deeper, the smooth head pressing against the roof of my mouth. My jaw ached slightly, but I didn’t care. This was what I wanted—what I needed. His grip on my head tightened, and he began to guide me, setting a slow, steady rhythm.
“Good boy,” he said, the words soft but laced with dominance. He took another drag from the cigar, his hips rolling forward as he fed me more of his cock. “You’ve got a sweet mouth. Let’s see how deep you can take it.”
I moaned around him, my throat relaxing as he pressed further. The head nudged the back of my throat, and I gagged slightly, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. He didn’t let up, thrusting gently, testing my limits. “Breathe through your nose,” he instructed, smoke spilling from his lips as he spoke. “Let daddy in.”
I did as he said, breathing in his scent—tobacco, musk, power. My throat stretched to accommodate him, and he groaned again, low and primal. “That’s it, boy. You’re learning. Keep going.”
His pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with more force. His cock slid deep, filling my throat, making me gag again. He held me there, the hand on my head keeping me in place. “Take it,” he growled, his voice rough with pleasure. “Every inch. Your throat is mine tonight.”
I moaned in response, my hands gripping his thighs for balance. The world blurred around me, my focus narrowing to the heat of him, the thickness stretching my throat, the smoke curling around us like a cocoon. He thrust harder now, using my mouth with complete control, his grunts growing louder. “Such a good boy,” he muttered, his voice tight. “You love this, don’t you? Being daddy’s little throat toy.”
I couldn’t respond—my mouth was too full—but I moaned my agreement, the vibrations making him shudder. His thrusts grew erratic, his cock swelling in my throat. I felt the tension in his body, the way his grip tightened, and I knew he was close.
“Swallow it all,” he commanded, his voice a guttural growl. “Take every drop.”
With a deep, shuddering groan, he spilled into my throat, hot and thick. I swallowed instinctively, desperate to please him, the salty warmth filling my mouth. He held me there, hips jerking slightly as the last waves of his orgasm pulsed through him. “Good boy,” he murmured, stroking my hair as I swallowed again and again.
Finally, he pulled back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop. I gasped for air, my lips swollen, my throat raw, but my body hummed with satisfaction. He looked down at me, smirking as he gave his cock a gentle squeeze, coaxing one last drop. “Open,” he said, and I obeyed, tongue out. He let the drop fall, and I swallowed it gratefully.
He tucked himself away, adjusting his trousers and taking one last puff from his cigar. “You did well, boy,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’ll be back. I can tell.”
He turned and walked away, smoke trailing behind him. I stayed on my knees, the taste of him lingering on my tongue, the scent of his cigar clinging to my clothes. He was right—I would be back. I had found something here, something I didn’t know I needed, and I craved it already. |
