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I find you in your car, parked in some secluded lot. I get into back seat, behind you, there's no eye contact. I reach around the seat and grope your breasts, over the shirt at first, then under, as roughly as we agree you'd want - finding that edge between pleasure and pain. Maybe my hands wander downward to feel more, to make you feel it more. Heavy breathing and maybe an involuntary moan is the only sign you even know this is happening to you; otherwise you're passive, diligently ignoring my every touch and feel, every bit of your body I'm taking for my pleasure. Eventually I leave - do I even put your clothes back together? - and we both wonder if the whole thing really even happened. But it did, in all its thrilling transgressive wrongness, and we both know it, and we keep the secret.
Me: I'm 45, white, 6'2", fit, educated, professional, discreet, and definitely not the kind of guy you'd expect to be into something like this. I live in Northern California, 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...
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- 1 week ago
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