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“The Ritual of Submission”

The vast expanse of the forest was Jackson’s sanctuary, a place where he could escape the mundane routines of his college life. But more than that, it was a realm of secret desires, a haven where he could explore the depths of his fantasies. The stories he’d heard of the rugged, dominant cowboy who roamed these woods had stirred something deep within him. The cowboy, with his broad shoulders, thick beard, and the ever-present cigar, was a figure of raw masculinity and power.

Jackson had ventured deeper into the forest that evening, driven by an irresistible urge. The scent of pine mixed with the smoky aroma of a cigar, guiding him like a beacon. As he approached a clearing, his breath caught in his throat. There he was, the cowboy, standing tall and imposing against the backdrop of towering trees. He wore a plaid shirt that clung to his muscular frame, leather chaps that highlighted his powerful legs, and a wide-brimmed hat that cast a shadow over his rugged face. The thick, hefty cigar in his mouth was a testament to his dominance, the smoke curling around him like a protective shroud.

Jackson felt a shiver of anticipation as he stepped closer. The cowboy’s eyes met his, a spark of recognition and authority in their depths. Without a word, the cowboy beckoned him with a single, commanding gesture.

“On your knees, boy,” the cowboy’s voice was a deep, resonant growl that reverberated through Jackson’s entire being.

Trembling with a mix of fear and excitement, Jackson dropped to his knees. The forest floor was cool beneath him, grounding him in the moment. The cowboy stepped forward, his boots crunching on the fallen leaves. The scent of the cigar was intoxicating, mingling with the earthy aroma of the woods.

The cowboy’s hand moved to his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness. Jackson’s heart raced as the zipper of the cowboy’s jeans was pulled down, revealing the impressive length of his cock. Thick and uncut, it mirrored the heft of the cigar the cowboy was smoking, a symbol of his raw, masculine power.

“Take it,” the cowboy ordered, his voice a blend of challenge and command.

Jackson’s hands shook slightly as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around the cowboy’s cock. He leaned forward, his lips parting as he took the head into his mouth, the taste of the cowboy’s arousal mingling with the smoky air. The cowboy’s hand found its way to the back of Jackson’s head, guiding him with firm, controlled pressure.

“Good boy,” the cowboy murmured, taking a long drag from his cigar. “Now, show me what you can do.”

Jackson began to suck, his tongue swirling around the head of the cowboy’s cock as he took more of it into his mouth. The cowboy’s hand tightened in his hair, a reminder of who was in control. Jackson’s head bobbed up and down, his mouth working eagerly as the cowboy’s moans of pleasure filled the air.

The cowboy’s other hand moved to his cigar, taking it from his mouth and exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. The scent surrounded them, creating an intimate, almost ritualistic atmosphere. The cowboy’s dominance was palpable, a force that commanded Jackson’s submission.

“Deeper,” the cowboy growled, pushing Jackson’s head down until his cock hit the back of Jackson’s throat. Jackson gagged slightly but recovered quickly, determined to please the cowboy.

The cowboy’s hips began to thrust, fucking Jackson’s mouth with a steady, powerful rhythm. Jackson’s eyes watered, but he kept his focus, his hands gripping the cowboy’s thighs for support. The cowboy’s moans grew louder, his pleasure evident as he took another drag from his cigar.

The smoky haze enveloped them, the scent of the cigar mingling with the raw, musky aroma of their arousal. Jackson’s jaw ached, but he relished the sensation, the act of worshipping the cowboy with his mouth. The cowboy’s dominance was all-encompassing, his power a tangible presence that left Jackson trembling with desire.

“Good boy,” the cowboy praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re taking it so well.”

Jackson’s heart swelled at the cowboy’s words, a sense of pride and fulfillment washing over him. He sucked harder, his tongue working expertly as he brought the cowboy closer to release. The cowboy’s thrusts grew more erratic, his grip in Jackson’s hair tightening as he approached the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, the cowboy came, his cock pulsing in Jackson’s mouth. Jackson swallowed eagerly, the taste of the cowboy’s release mingling with the smoky flavor of the cigar. The cowboy’s moans of pleasure were a symphony in Jackson’s ears, a testament to his success in pleasing his dominant.

As the cowboy’s breathing steadied, he gently pulled Jackson’s head back, looking down at him with a mixture of satisfaction and approval. The cowboy took one last drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around them like a protective shroud.

“You did well,” the cowboy said, his voice softening slightly. “I’m proud of you.”

Jackson smiled, a sense of accomplishment and contentment filling him. He had found what he had been searching for—a place where he could submit, where he could find pleasure in his surrender to a powerful, dominant man. The forest, with its towering trees and earthy scents, had become a sanctuary, a place where his desires could be fully realized.

In the heart of the woods, surrounded by the scent of pine and cigar smoke, Jackson found his true self. The cowboy’s dominance was a force of nature, a power that commanded respect and submission. And Jackson was more than willing to give it, knowing that he had finally found his place in the world.

[beautifuloldermen]

I have decided to write with AI. You can find it on Nifty in the Authoritarian or Urination categories under the title "Trucker Jack."

The link is here. Some of what the AI program produced is fucking amazing while others are bland. I have spent a lot of time "fixing" the AI generated text. (For example, it bounce back and forth between present and past tense. Another is that it doesn't know how a rim seat is constructed.)

The funny thing is that the service I used has a gatekeeper that blocks themes involving nonconcentual, abuse, raunch, and so on. But I was able to get some topics through by describing it in a way not to trigger the gatekeeper. Once it got to the AI generation, the AI went all in. The two topics: beatings and scat. There is a lot of scat and later in the story a lot of beatings. I could not get it to generate a story involving piss or bondage. I had to edit them in.

And I couldn't pass up uploading an AI generated trucker for this post.

Anyways, the first two chapters are up. I hope you enjoy.

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“Smoke and Shadows: A Secret in the Woods”

In a time before screens connected strangers, before messages could be sent in secret, there were places men went—hidden spots that lay beyond the reach of daylight and decorum. Places where a glance held promises unspoken, where silence held all the meaning they needed. This was one of those places, a clearing deep within the woods, shadowed by towering trees and wrapped in the stillness of night.

The young man moved carefully, his steps softened by the blanket of fallen leaves underfoot. He was guided not by the sounds of the forest, but by the faint, smoky scent hanging in the air, an earthy, rich aroma that stirred something deep inside him. It was the scent of cigars—a particular kind, heady and full, with a hint of sweetness that cut through the cool night air. It lingered like an invitation, like a beacon, drawing him deeper into the heart of the woods.

And then he saw him. Leaning against the rough bark of an ancient oak, a tall, broad-shouldered figure stood, his face partially shadowed but his presence unmistakable. In his hand, he held a thick cigar, the cherry-red ember glowing faintly in the dim light, casting a warm halo around his face as he took a slow, measured drag. The smoke curled from his lips in a steady stream, mingling with the night air, twisting and curling as it drifted upward, its scent enveloping the young man as he drew closer.

The older man’s gaze met his, a silent acknowledgment, intense and unwavering. There were no words, none needed. This was a man who knew his own power, a man whose confidence came from years of experience, of understanding exactly what he wanted and how to take it. His suit, dark and tailored, clung to his large frame, his chest broad, his shoulders wide, exuding a natural authority that left the young man breathless.

The young man watched, captivated, as the older man brought the cigar to his lips again. He watched the way his fingers held it, strong and sure, the way his lips wrapped around the end, drawing in the smoke with a slow, steady breath. The sight sent a jolt of desire through him—there was something intensely erotic about the act, something about the way the older man handled the cigar that hinted at control, at the raw, masculine confidence that radiated from him.

The older man exhaled, the smoke rolling from his lips in thick, fragrant clouds, surrounding them both. The young man inhaled deeply, savoring the scent, feeling it settle inside him, filling his senses, making his pulse race. The cigar was a part of the older man, an extension of his presence, an object he wielded with an easy authority that only added to his allure.

Without a word, the older man reached out, his hand sliding around the young man’s neck, pulling him close until there was barely a breath between them. The young man’s gaze dropped to the cigar, the glowing ember casting flickering shadows on their faces, and he felt a thrill run through him as he watched the older man take another slow drag. The scent, the smoke, the way the older man’s eyes bore into his—all of it created an intensity that felt almost primal, a silent communication that bypassed words and went straight to something raw and essential.

The older man’s free hand found the young man’s waist, gripping firmly, pulling him flush against his solid frame. Their bodies pressed together, and the young man felt his pulse quicken, his skin tingling under the older man’s touch. He could feel the warmth radiating from the older man, could feel the strength in the arm that held him close, unyielding, demanding.

The older man lifted the cigar to his lips once more, his gaze locked onto the young man’s, and took a long, slow drag. This time, he exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift over the young man’s face, wrapping around him, filling his senses until it was all he could smell, all he could think about. It was intoxicating, an earthy, masculine scent that seemed to sink deep into his skin, igniting a desire that felt as old as the forest itself, raw and unrestrained.

Without breaking eye contact, the older man brought the cigar to the young man’s lips, his fingers guiding it gently, inviting him to take a taste. The young man’s breath hitched, his heart pounding as he leaned in, wrapping his lips around the end of the cigar, feeling the warmth of it against his mouth. He drew in a tentative breath, the smoke filling his lungs, thick and heady, and as he exhaled, he felt a surge of connection, of intimacy that went beyond words.

The older man’s hand slid from his neck to his jaw, tilting his face up, his thumb brushing along his cheek in a possessive, almost reverent gesture. Their eyes met, and in that charged silence, they both understood—their desires, their needs, the hunger that neither could deny. Here, in the secrecy of the woods, under the watchful gaze of the stars and trees, they were free to be exactly who they were, bound only by the intensity of their shared moment.

The older man leaned in, his lips rough and insistent, claiming the young man’s mouth in a kiss that was fierce and unrestrained. The taste of smoke lingered between them, mingling with the scent of pine and earth, creating an atmosphere thick with forbidden allure. Their hands explored, gripping, caressing, each touch a silent declaration of need, of possession, of a desire too strong to be contained by words.

And as they lost themselves in each other, the cigar continued to burn, a symbol of the connection that had drawn them together, its smoke a silent witness to the raw, unspoken passion that had brought them to this hidden place, where secrets were kept and desires were made real. The forest held its breath around them, bearing witness to their union, and in that moment, nothing else existed—only the two of them, lost in a primal connection as ancient and wild as the woods themselves.

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“Smoldering Submission”

Kyle had always swiped past profiles of men like him—fit, chiseled, showing off their gym-honed bodies, flexing in perfect lighting. He was used to that world; after all, he had the same toned physique from hours spent working out, maintaining a strict regimen. But lately, something had shifted inside him. He wasn’t craving the perfect gym body anymore. What he really wanted was a man who embodied a different kind of power—someone older, larger, stocky, with an air of dominance and indulgence.

And then, he found Arthur Thompson.

Arthur’s profile was different from the others. Instead of a shirtless selfie, Arthur sat confidently in a leather armchair, his large belly stretching the fabric of his suit, a thick cigar perched between his lips. The smoke drifted up from the cigar in delicate curls, giving Arthur a presence that was impossible to ignore. Kyle was hooked immediately. He had been swiping for weeks, but no one had caught his attention like this. Arthur’s big belly, his confident smirk, and the cigar clenched firmly in his teeth—it was everything Kyle had been fantasizing about.

Without hesitation, he messaged Arthur. They exchanged a few brief words—Arthur’s replies were short, commanding, just as Kyle had hoped. When Arthur suggested they meet at his house while his wife was out of town, Kyle’s pulse quickened. He couldn’t believe his luck.

Now, standing at Arthur’s front door, Kyle could feel his heart racing in his chest. He had been thinking about this moment all day—about seeing Arthur in person, about feeling the weight of his huge, round belly beneath his hands, and most of all, about the thick cigar Arthur would no doubt have between his lips. The image of it had consumed him ever since they matched. The smell, the look, the aura of pure masculine power Arthur seemed to exude in his profile picture had drawn Kyle in like nothing else.

When the door opened, Arthur was even more impressive in person. He stood tall, filling the doorway, his round belly pushing out from beneath his unbuttoned suit jacket. A lit cigar hung from his lips, the end glowing a bright orange as he took a slow, deliberate drag. The rich, earthy scent of the cigar hit Kyle instantly, flooding his senses with the heady aroma he had been imagining for days. Smoke billowed out of Arthur’s mouth, curling through the air as he exhaled slowly, his eyes locking onto Kyle with a knowing smirk.

“Come in, boy,” Arthur rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly. The cigar bobbed slightly between his teeth as he spoke, the sight of it making Kyle’s heart race even faster. Arthur’s whole presence exuded dominance and control, and the thick, swirling smoke that filled the air only added to his aura of authority.

Kyle stepped inside, the scent of cigar smoke immediately wrapping around him, thick and intoxicating. Arthur turned and led him into the living room, moving slowly, his large frame dominating the space. Kyle followed, his eyes glued to Arthur’s broad back, watching the way his belly swayed slightly as he walked. He could hardly breathe for the excitement of what was about to happen.

Arthur sat down heavily in his armchair, spreading his legs wide and settling into the plush leather. His belly pushed out in front of him, the fabric of his shirt straining slightly against it, and the cigar never left his lips. He took another long drag, the ember glowing bright as the rich smoke filled his lungs. Arthur exhaled a slow plume of smoke, his eyes locked on Kyle as the thick cloud drifted between them.

“You like what you see, don’t you?” Arthur said, his voice a low growl of confidence. He tapped the ash from his cigar into a nearby tray, watching with amusement as Kyle nodded, wide-eyed and breathless.

“Yes, sir,” Kyle managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Arthur’s huge belly, from the way the cigar sat between his thick fingers, still glowing softly as smoke curled up into the air. The scent of the cigar was everywhere, filling the room, clinging to the furniture, the walls. It was heady and intoxicating, and Kyle was completely captivated by it.

Arthur smirked, taking another long pull from his cigar. The smoke billowed out slowly, filling the air around them. “I could tell from your messages,” Arthur said, his voice calm and authoritative. “You like older men. Big men. You like a man who knows how to enjoy the finer things.”

Kyle nodded again, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes flicked between Arthur’s cigar and his belly, his mouth dry with anticipation. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of him—this powerful, older man, sitting there so comfortably, smoking his cigar like a king. The cigar smoke added to the moment in a way Kyle hadn’t expected—it made everything feel richer, more intimate, more intense.

Arthur’s thick fingers tapped the ash from his cigar again, then rested the cigar back between his lips. He leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs wider, letting Kyle take in every inch of him. “Come here,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “You know what you want.”

Kyle moved toward him, his breath quickening as he reached out to touch Arthur’s belly. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed them against the soft, round curve of it, feeling the warmth of Arthur’s body beneath the fabric of his shirt. Arthur groaned softly, taking another drag from his cigar, exhaling the smoke with a satisfied smile.

“That’s a good boy,” Arthur muttered, his voice thick with approval. “You like big men, don’t you? You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

Kyle nodded, his fingers roaming over Arthur’s belly, the feel of it beneath his hands making his pulse race. The scent of the cigar was everywhere, filling his lungs with every breath. He was dizzy from the combination of the smoke and the sheer size of the man in front of him. Arthur’s belly, the cigar, the authority in his voice—it was everything Kyle had fantasized about and more.

Arthur took another slow drag, the end of the cigar glowing bright as he pulled the smoke into his lungs. He held it there for a moment, watching Kyle’s reaction, letting the tension build before he exhaled slowly, sending a thick plume of smoke directly toward Kyle’s face.

“Breathe it in, boy,” Arthur growled, his voice thick with dominance. “You like the smell of my cigar, don’t you? You’ve been thinking about it ever since you saw my profile.”

Kyle’s breath hitched as he inhaled the smoke, the rich, earthy scent of it filling his lungs. The smoke clung to his clothes, his skin, wrapping around him like a second skin. It was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. He nodded eagerly, his hands still resting on Arthur’s belly, the feel of the older man’s body beneath his fingers grounding him in the moment.

“Good boy,” Arthur muttered, his voice low and approving. He took another drag from his cigar, the ember glowing brightly as he exhaled the smoke with deliberate slowness. The scent of it filled the room, mixing with the musky smell of Arthur’s body. Kyle couldn’t get enough.

Arthur’s hand moved, resting on the back of Kyle’s neck, guiding him down gently. Kyle knelt in front of Arthur, his breath coming in shallow gasps as Arthur exhaled another thick cloud of smoke, the scent of it wrapping around them both. Kyle’s senses were overwhelmed—the cigar smoke, the size of Arthur’s belly, the deep, commanding voice that seemed to reverberate through the air.

Arthur undid his trousers, his thick fingers moving slowly, deliberately. The cigar never left his lips, even as he freed his heavy, thick cock from the confines of his clothes. The smell of his arousal mixed with the rich, earthy scent of the cigar, creating a heady blend that made Kyle’s head spin.

“You know what to do, boy,” Arthur growled, the cigar still nestled between his teeth. He blew out a thick plume of smoke, watching as it curled through the air and drifted down toward Kyle. “Take your time. Savor it, like you’d savor a fine cigar.”

Kyle’s lips parted, his mouth watering as he leaned forward, his hands gripping Arthur’s thick thighs for support. The weight of Arthur’s cock pressed against his lips, the scent of the cigar still heavy in the air, wrapping around him. The taste of Arthur, the musky, heady scent of his body, mixed with the rich tobacco smoke, was overwhelming.

Arthur groaned softly, his hand tightening in Kyle’s hair as he guided him further down. The cigar bobbed between Arthur’s lips, the ember glowing brighter with each deliberate drag he took. The thick smoke billowed out, wrapping around them both, adding to the already heavy, musky atmosphere of the room. Kyle’s throat tightened as he took more of Arthur’s cock, but he didn’t pull away—he wanted this. He wanted to please the older man, to prove that he was worthy of the praise Arthur had already given him.

Arthur watched him intently, his eyes half-lidded as he took another long pull from the cigar. The sight of Kyle working so eagerly, his lips wrapped around the thick shaft, sent a surge of satisfaction through the older man. He blew out the smoke slowly, letting it drift down toward Kyle’s face, watching as the younger man inhaled it, his senses overwhelmed by the combination of Arthur’s size and the rich, smoky scent of the cigar.

“That’s a good boy,” Arthur growled, his voice thick with approval. “Take it all in. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? Thinking about my cock, about the smell of my cigar. You couldn’t wait to get on your knees for me.”

Kyle moaned softly, the sound muffled as he worked harder, his lips sliding further down Arthur’s length, his throat straining to take him deeper. The taste of Arthur’s skin, mixed with the constant scent of cigar smoke, made his head swim with desire. He couldn’t think of anything else—just the feel of Arthur’s cock in his mouth, the musky, masculine scent of the man filling his lungs with each breath.

Arthur’s hips began to move slowly, pushing deeper into Kyle’s mouth, the weight of him almost overwhelming. The older man’s belly jostled slightly, brushing against Kyle’s forehead with each slow, deliberate thrust. The cigar never left Arthur’s lips, even as his groans grew louder, the smoke curling up and around them in thick, heavy waves.

“That’s it, boy,” Arthur muttered, his voice a low rumble. “You love the taste of me, don’t you? Love the smell of my cigar, the way the smoke fills the air while you’re on your knees for me.”

Kyle nodded weakly, his throat too full to respond verbally. But Arthur’s words were true—he loved everything about this, the taste, the smell, the feel of the older man’s thick body pressed against him. He had dreamed of this moment ever since he had seen Arthur’s profile, had imagined what it would be like to kneel before a man of his size and power, to breathe in the scent of his cigar and let it consume him.

Arthur chuckled softly, a deep, satisfied sound that seemed to vibrate through his chest. He took another slow drag, the cigar glowing bright as he pulled the smoke deep into his lungs. The ember flared, casting a warm, orange glow over his face as he exhaled again, the thick plume of smoke curling around Kyle’s head.

“Good boy,” Arthur growled, his hand tightening in Kyle’s hair as he pushed him down further, his cock sliding deeper into Kyle’s throat. “Breathe in the smoke, lad. Let it fill your lungs while you work. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to be surrounded by the smell of my cigar, to feel it in your throat while you take me deep.”

Kyle inhaled deeply, his head spinning as the rich, musky scent of the cigar filled his lungs. The smoke clung to his clothes, his skin, mixing with the heavy scent of Arthur’s arousal. It was overwhelming, but Kyle wanted more—he needed more. His hands tightened on Arthur’s thighs, holding on as the older man’s hips began to move faster, thrusting harder into his mouth.

Arthur’s groans filled the room, his belly pressing against Kyle’s forehead with each powerful thrust. The cigar bobbed between his lips, the ember glowing brightly as he took another long drag, exhaling the smoke with a satisfied smile. The scent of cigar smoke and sex filled the air, thick and heady, creating an intoxicating atmosphere of submission and power.

“That’s a good boy,” Arthur muttered, his voice thick with pleasure. “Take it all. You’ve earned this, lad. You wanted to be here, didn’t you? On your knees, breathing in my smoke, tasting me.”

Kyle nodded, his throat constricting around Arthur’s cock as he worked harder, his lips sliding up and down the thick length, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. He couldn’t get enough of the cigar smoke, the way it curled through the air, the way it clung to Arthur’s body, filling the room with its rich, heady scent. It was everything he had fantasized about, and more.

Arthur’s hips began to move faster, his cock sliding in and out of Kyle’s mouth with increasing speed. The older man’s groans grew louder, the sound vibrating through the air as his pleasure built. The cigar still burned brightly between his lips, the smoke billowing out in thick clouds with each breath he took.

“You’re going to swallow every drop,” Arthur growled, his voice thick with the promise of release. “Do you understand me, boy? You’re going to take it all. Just like you’ve been taking in my smoke, you’re going to take every last bit of me.”

Kyle moaned softly, his hands gripping Arthur’s thighs tightly as he nodded, his throat tightening around the older man’s cock. Arthur’s body tensed, his belly pressing against Kyle’s forehead as his cock pulsed in the young man’s mouth. The climax hit hard, a sudden wave of pleasure that had Arthur groaning deeply, his hand gripping Kyle’s hair tightly as hot cum filled Kyle’s throat.

Kyle swallowed quickly, his body trembling as he took everything Arthur gave him. The taste of Arthur, the musky scent of his release, mixed with the ever-present cigar smoke, filled Kyle’s senses, making his head spin with submission. He kept his lips wrapped around Arthur’s cock, sucking gently even as the older man softened, wanting to drain every last drop, to show his devotion.

Arthur groaned again, his hand finally releasing its grip on Kyle’s hair as he leaned back in the chair, his large frame settling comfortably into the leather. The cigar still smoldered between his fingers, the ember glowing softly as he exhaled a final thick plume of smoke. The room was filled with the smell of tobacco and sex, an intoxicating blend that clung to the air around them.

“Good boy,” Arthur muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he looked down at Kyle. “You’ve done well tonight.”

Kyle pulled back slowly, his lips swollen and his throat raw, but he felt a deep sense of pride and fulfillment. He had pleased Arthur, had shown his submission, and had been rewarded with the older man’s approval. The scent of Arthur’s arousal and the thick cloud of cigar smoke still lingered in the air, a constant reminder of what had just transpired between them.

Arthur took another long drag from his cigar, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he exhaled slowly, watching Kyle with a pleased smirk. “You’re welcome to stay,” Arthur said, his voice a low growl. “But you’ll need to keep quiet about this. No one needs to know about my little indulgences.”

Kyle nodded, his heart racing at the thought of Arthur’s wife returning. The weight of their shared secret added a thrill to the encounter, making everything feel even more intense. He knew this couldn’t last, but for tonight, this was his world—wrapped in smoke, submission, and the older man’s approval.

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The cold steel wall of the alley pressed against Officer Graves’ back as he stood, towering and still, his presence filling the dimly lit space. His uniform stretched tightly over his broad chest and belly, a clear display of the years he had spent maintaining law and order. A thick cigar hung between his lips, its embers glowing faintly in the darkness. The smoke drifted up slowly, curling in lazy spirals, creating a haze around him that only added to his imposing aura.

Across from him, Ethan stood nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. He had always been drawn to men in uniform—the authority, the power, the control they seemed to possess with ease. But this wasn’t just any officer. This was Officer Graves, the man whose profile had caught Ethan’s eye on the app. It wasn’t just the uniform or his stocky build, though both were impressive. It was the cigar—the way Graves held it between his thick fingers, the way the smoke seemed to command the air around him, like it was a part of who he was.

“You like older men, don’t you, boy?” Officer Graves rumbled, his voice deep and authoritative, sending a shiver down Ethan’s spine. He took a long drag from the cigar, his eyes never leaving Ethan’s, and exhaled slowly, the smoke billowing out into the alley, filling the space between them with its rich, heady scent.

Ethan nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, sir,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. The presence of this man was overwhelming, and Ethan found himself both intimidated and drawn in by the sheer power Graves exuded.

“I thought so,” Graves said, his lips curling into a smirk around the cigar. He shifted his weight slightly, the leather of his belt creaking as his round belly pushed out further, straining against the buttons of his shirt. “You couldn’t resist, could you? The uniform, the authority, the cigar…”

Ethan’s heart raced. He couldn’t deny it—the very things Graves mentioned were exactly what had brought him here. The power this man wielded so effortlessly, the way the cigar seemed to be an extension of his dominance—it was intoxicating.

Graves stepped forward, his boots heavy against the concrete, and leaned down slightly to look Ethan directly in the eyes. “You’re here to follow orders, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice a low, commanding growl. The scent of the cigar was stronger now, wrapping around Ethan like a heavy blanket, making him feel even smaller under the officer’s gaze.

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