A company I worked for had a contract with a limo service to take us to and from the airport. One of the drivers, a Lebanese guy, mid-thirties, was sexy and charming as hell. Dark hair that curled up around his collar, beard, in terrific shape, with deep brown eyes. Pretty quickly he picked up on me being gay--I may have even told him during our conversation--and he gave me the spiel about not caring what people do, it's their business, etc., etc. He gave me his card and told me to request him next time I ordered a car. So I did and then booked him to pick me up when I returned home. My flight was delayed and I didn't land until after midnight. He showed up in stretch limo (which I hate). When I asked where his town car was, he said it was being repaired and he was using this car until it was out of the shop.
I moved up to be close to the window so we could talk. Along the way I asked if I was his last customer of the evening--not meaning anything, just making small talk. He said he'd probably stop at a popular gay bar in the city, as it was closing time and he might be able to pick up another fare. I asked how often that worked; it seemed odd to me that someone would jump into a limo when there were plenty of cabs. He smiled real big and told me he always stood outside his car, to which I said, "Aren't you clever! Now I understand." He asked what I meant (another big grin) and I explained if I saw him looking pick someone up I sure as hell would jump in. And the fare--did he charge limo rates or drop the price to match cab prices? "It depends," he told me. On what? "How wicked the ride goes. Sometimes it's free." Without hesitation I said, "If wickedness is what you have in mind, you don't need to go to the club." He stared at me for a second in his mirror and then (another smile) said, "No?"
He turned down a side street with a park on one side and an industrial complex on the other--the street was totally deserted. He stopped the car and asked, "Are you sure?" to which I said, "Never been surer."
He came into the passenger cabin and sat in the middle of the long seat at the back of limo. I started to move toward him but he told me to stay where I was. He turned on the pin lights that outlined the interior --just enough for us to see, but not too bright to draw attention. He removed his jacket and tie, folded them neatly, and set them to one side. Then he slowly unbuttoned his white shirt, revealing the most deliciously hairy chest I've ever seen. He undid his belt and pulled his shirttails out of his trousers before opening his fly to lift his cock out. It was still soft and I could barely see it as he held it in his still hand. "Now you," he said. Not quite sure what to do, I followed his lead, doing as he had done. "No," he said. "Naked. Everything off." I started to protest, since he wasn't naked. "I will be soon enough," he answered. As I stripped, he began to stroke his cock slowly, bringing it to full hardness by the time I finished. Watching that made me hard as iron. "Very nice," he said. "Now come to me."
He was a master of seduction, all right. And he was no less amazing once the sex began. I took him in my mouth and sucked him every which way. He shifted and slid his leg between mine, rubbing against my ass with his shoe. I stopped to remove both shoes and his socks to feel his flesh as he stroked my backside while I gave him head. Piece by piece the rest of his clothes came off and soon we were on the floor, sucking each other, with him on top of me. He pulled back my legs and buried his face deep in my ass, while my fingers pressed down into his hairy ass, pushing his dick deep into my throat. When he came up for air he said, "I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you?" I told him I wanted him to, but not without protection. He sighed with disappointment until I mentioned that I had condoms and lube in my bag. But the thought of getting dressed wasn't working for me, as I didn't want to break the spell. "I'll get them," he said. "Do you mind?" He raised himself off of me and opened the car door. "They're in my toiletry kit," I told him. He walked out in the street, naked and hard, and returned with the kit. Once he got the condom on, he turned me over and pulled my ass into the air, pouring lube into my crack and spreading it around. The lube was chilly, but his fingers were warm. He flicked at my hole a couple of times and whispered, "This is nice." Then he slowly found his way inside me. I don't know how long we fucked, but it felt like hours as he moved me around. We ended with me on my back while he drilled into me, grunting like a bear. Suddenly he pulled out, ripped off the condom, and shot a series of thick loads all over me. After he caught his breath, he scooped up his come and grabbed my dick in his slippery hand to jack me off. When I announced I was about to shoot, he dropped his face close to my cock. I sprayed all over his beard. A moment passed before he lay on top of me and kissed me. I laughed at the mess I'd made on his face. "I hope you've got something to clean off your beard," I said. He laughed too and rubbed the cream into his facial hair. "Now I can smell you while I'm driving back to the garage," he said.
After that, whenever he picked me up after a night flight, he brought the limo. And there was always the same question once we drove away from the airport: "Are you in a hurry to get home?" Usually I wasn't. But sometimes--just so he wouldn't take it for granted--I'd say I had an early start the next day and needed to get in bed. We eventually lost touch when I took another job. But I'll never forget him or his name: Mahmud, which means "worthy of reverence."
I moved up to be close to the window so we could talk. Along the way I asked if I was his last customer of the evening--not meaning anything, just making small talk. He said he'd probably stop at a popular gay bar in the city, as it was closing time and he might be able to pick up another fare. I asked how often that worked; it seemed odd to me that someone would jump into a limo when there were plenty of cabs. He smiled real big and told me he always stood outside his car, to which I said, "Aren't you clever! Now I understand." He asked what I meant (another big grin) and I explained if I saw him looking pick someone up I sure as hell would jump in. And the fare--did he charge limo rates or drop the price to match cab prices? "It depends," he told me. On what? "How wicked the ride goes. Sometimes it's free." Without hesitation I said, "If wickedness is what you have in mind, you don't need to go to the club." He stared at me for a second in his mirror and then (another smile) said, "No?"
He turned down a side street with a park on one side and an industrial complex on the other--the street was totally deserted. He stopped the car and asked, "Are you sure?" to which I said, "Never been surer."
He came into the passenger cabin and sat in the middle of the long seat at the back of limo. I started to move toward him but he told me to stay where I was. He turned on the pin lights that outlined the interior --just enough for us to see, but not too bright to draw attention. He removed his jacket and tie, folded them neatly, and set them to one side. Then he slowly unbuttoned his white shirt, revealing the most deliciously hairy chest I've ever seen. He undid his belt and pulled his shirttails out of his trousers before opening his fly to lift his cock out. It was still soft and I could barely see it as he held it in his still hand. "Now you," he said. Not quite sure what to do, I followed his lead, doing as he had done. "No," he said. "Naked. Everything off." I started to protest, since he wasn't naked. "I will be soon enough," he answered. As I stripped, he began to stroke his cock slowly, bringing it to full hardness by the time I finished. Watching that made me hard as iron. "Very nice," he said. "Now come to me."
He was a master of seduction, all right. And he was no less amazing once the sex began. I took him in my mouth and sucked him every which way. He shifted and slid his leg between mine, rubbing against my ass with his shoe. I stopped to remove both shoes and his socks to feel his flesh as he stroked my backside while I gave him head. Piece by piece the rest of his clothes came off and soon we were on the floor, sucking each other, with him on top of me. He pulled back my legs and buried his face deep in my ass, while my fingers pressed down into his hairy ass, pushing his dick deep into my throat. When he came up for air he said, "I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you?" I told him I wanted him to, but not without protection. He sighed with disappointment until I mentioned that I had condoms and lube in my bag. But the thought of getting dressed wasn't working for me, as I didn't want to break the spell. "I'll get them," he said. "Do you mind?" He raised himself off of me and opened the car door. "They're in my toiletry kit," I told him. He walked out in the street, naked and hard, and returned with the kit. Once he got the condom on, he turned me over and pulled my ass into the air, pouring lube into my crack and spreading it around. The lube was chilly, but his fingers were warm. He flicked at my hole a couple of times and whispered, "This is nice." Then he slowly found his way inside me. I don't know how long we fucked, but it felt like hours as he moved me around. We ended with me on my back while he drilled into me, grunting like a bear. Suddenly he pulled out, ripped off the condom, and shot a series of thick loads all over me. After he caught his breath, he scooped up his come and grabbed my dick in his slippery hand to jack me off. When I announced I was about to shoot, he dropped his face close to my cock. I sprayed all over his beard. A moment passed before he lay on top of me and kissed me. I laughed at the mess I'd made on his face. "I hope you've got something to clean off your beard," I said. He laughed too and rubbed the cream into his facial hair. "Now I can smell you while I'm driving back to the garage," he said.
After that, whenever he picked me up after a night flight, he brought the limo. And there was always the same question once we drove away from the airport: "Are you in a hurry to get home?" Usually I wasn't. But sometimes--just so he wouldn't take it for granted--I'd say I had an early start the next day and needed to get in bed. We eventually lost touch when I took another job. But I'll never forget him or his name: Mahmud, which means "worthy of reverence."