You didn't lock your car, sitting there in some empty parking lot scrolling on your phone, so you don't even notice as I approach, open the back door, and slide into the seat behind you. You're shocked into inaction (or is it compliance?) with the speed and surprise of an invasion of your formerly safe and private space. I swat your phone from your hand, and immediately establish a firm, threatening grip on your neck; not choking you - yet - but you can tell what would happen if you struggle too much. With my other hand I reach around the seat and grope your breasts, over the shirt at first, then under, roughly, hungrily, hard treatment of soft flesh - finding that edge between what might normally be pleasurable and what's definitely painful, and crossing that line, back and forth. My hand wanders down to feel more, to make your body feel it more, starting to feel confused about conflicting sensations of violation and pleasure. Heavy breathing elicits a stronger grip on your neck to keep you quiet, the thin strain of air through a tightened throat mixes with the rumpling sounds of clothes moving and bodies writhing. Eventually I feel a shudder course through your body - the sign I was waiting for, since you can't vocalize a climax through my clench on your throat. And then, as quickly as I'd burst into the car, I'm gone. Despite the disheveled clothes, the sweaty skin, the sore neck, you almost wonder if the whole thing really even happened. It did - didn't it? - but either way you know you'll keep the secret.

Me: I'm 46, white, 6'2", fit, educated, professional, discreet, and definitely not the kind of guy you'd expect to be into something like this. I'll be visiting Las Vegas a couple of times in the coming months, and would love to find a match for when I'm in town. I'm happy to exchange photos early (there's a body pic in my profile) and move the chat to Telegram. Hope to find a likeminded woman with whom to explore this taboo...