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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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