The Move Chapter 1 Part 1 of 2

The Move
Chapter 1 Part 1 of 2

My wife and I moved from Baltimore to Dallas with our two kids. I am a 32-year-old pilot for a major airline and was offered a promotion that required relocation. Moving from BWI to DFW meant a better standard of living due to the cost-of-living difference alone. An eleven-percent pay raise, better weather, and a better house made it a no-brainer.

My wife is a retail manager for a budget-chain clothing store catering to women. So, relocating was a small deal for her. However, the move put her farther away from her family, and she was very stressed with the children just about to start school.

About a month after the move, Amy was at a breaking point. She was homesick, terrified of a new boss and a new daycare, and had no support system established. Combined with my schedule now in full gear, keeping me away a lot, she felt like all the burden was on her.

I understood her concern and suggested she take a leave of absence from work to give her time to settle in and get more comfortable with the area and childcare situation. That backfired, as she took it as me 'trapping her' into total dependence. That made me doubt her trust since she always needed an immediate escape plan.

It was a classic example of the woman needing a sympathetic ear and the man needing to fix it. The explosion hit Friday night, and I slept in the guest room. Or not sleeping since I stewed all night. I was kicking myself for not being more understanding, yet pissed off that she took it as a personal attack and lack of caring.

At about 6:00 am, I decided to give it up and go for a run. Little did I know that would be an even more life-altering decision than the move. Our new house was adjacent to a state park on a lake, so it was convenient for hiking and jogging in a peaceful, wooded setting. There was a 'secret' pathway from our backyard to a hiking trail. I had previously explored just a portion of the trail, so I was anxious to run the loop for the first time.

I wore jogging shorts with a tank top and carried my phone and earbuds to listen to Spotify. I was quickly reminded how friggin' hot and humid Dallas can be in July, even at 6:00 am. After about two miles, I decided to walk for a while, already drenched in sweat.

Imagine Dragons was blaring, and I enjoyed the beautiful morning with no one around. I had seen three other people on the trails in my two miles. Then, it hit me how blaring music in this peaceful, serene setting defeated the purpose of relieving stress.

I walked on with the music off, listening to the birds, and took in the scenery. After calming down, I resolved to go back and apologize to Amy and listen. When the time is right, I suggest visiting her mom and or sister. Her mom is a teacher with most of the summer off. We talked about her coming to stay when we first moved, but we figured it might add stress to the move, so we put her off.

As the situation started to seem manageable again, I could feel a weight being lifted. I walked on, feeling like I had a plan. The lower stress levels suddenly brought to light the lack of sleep, and if I hurried back, there might be a chance for an hour or two before anyone woke up.

I knew from the online map I pulled up that I was on a loop trail, but I was still determining whether turning or in the future was the shortest way back. So I went forward. I put the headphones back on and began to jog again. Imagine Dragons continued when suddenly, I caught a glimpse of something that made me think I was hallucinating.

It sounds wild, but it was the image of a huge boner, balls and all, floating in the air off the trail to the right. I was by it so quickly it took a few seconds to register what it looked like in my head. By the time I stopped, I was well past it.

I stood there momentarily and decided I needed to return. I turned down the music and dropped the earbuds over my shoulders, holding onto my cell phone.

While I strolled back, I thought I must have imagined something. It had been a while since Amy and I had made love, and it must have been my need for sex that planted the image in my head.

I stepped slowly and listened but didn't hear anything. I sped up, walked past where I had seen it, and found nothing. After another twenty to thirty yards, there was nothing. Realizing I was losing it, I put my buds back in and turned around.

As I walked back, there it was! From this angle, I could see a pretty fucking colossal hard-on being stroked behind a tree. The perve was wearing olive-green sweats with a button fly, and his pink cock and balls were pulled out through the fly, which gave the illusion it was floating in the air.

WTF, I thought as he stroked himself. It was a good eight inches long with a slight curve back toward his body. He was proud of it, as he would rub it, grip the base, waggle it, and stroke it again. Then he released it, and it bounced up, pointing at the sky.

I suppressed a laugh, thinking that's about how my cock felt after not having had sex for... shit, over a month. I glanced up, and his face was hidden behind the tree, so I was confident he didn't see me.

As I watched in disbelief that someone would do this, I wondered. Do I call the police? Just walk on and forget about it? What if he did something to someone? Could I live with that?

I pondered, and he continued to stroke himself. I noticed his nut sack was hairless and marveled at how much bigger he was than me. The twisted, little voice in my head said, "If that were my cock, I might show it off, too."

It occurred to me that he didn't know I was here, so he probably thought he was hidden. He might be having a rough patch in his marriage like me and giving himself a slight relief in the only place he could find peace. I found myself feeling a little jealous, thinking I could use a good wanking off, too.

The cock looked hard as granite and angry. The head was elongated and almost blue. The shaft glistened in the soft light with a prominent vein on the right side. I had to adjust my cock in my shorts as I was getting a sympathy woody.

I glanced up, and he was still oblivious to me watching. Then, I scanned up and down the path, confirming it was still clear while I figured out what to do. When I turned back, he stood facing me, grinning, with his hands on his hips. I nearly lost my balance after I jumped as he startled the shit out of me. The angry cock pointed skyward as I noticed a pronounced ridge running from his balls to the bottom of his dick head.

He said something, but the music drowned him out. My heart raced as I pulled out the earbuds with a death grip on my phone. He proudly rocked his boner side to side.

"Are you gonna stare at it all day, or will you help me with this?" he grins.

He looked athletic in his early twenties, about six feet tall and one-eighty. His hair was short and dark, and his arrogant grin was wide and proud.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked, a little too shakily. "You better move the fuck along, or I'm gonna call the cops."

"Big guy, you've been watching me for two minutes, and your shorts have gotten awful tight," he said, glancing at my tent. "Your fucking music was so loud I heard you stalking me the whole time, dipshit."

I noticed a bit of a Texas drawl in his voice. I instinctively moved my hand with the cell phone to cover myself. As I did, he gripped his cock and began stroking the length of it. If I'd fascinated mine like that, an inch or two would be sticking out of my hand, not four.

I tried not to stare as I thought what to say next.

"Impressive, ain't it?" he asked confidently.

I wanted to say no, but it was. I forced my eyes up and spoke again. "You need to get your perverted ass out of here, or I will call—"

"Go ahead, I'll tell them the married guy tried to solicit a blowjob. You're new here, ain't you?"

I held up my phone to take a picture, and he released his dick thrusting his hips forward just as I snapped the pic.

"The married guy with dick pics on his phone."

I switched to video. "Keep talking," I said, holding it up.

He pulled out a wad of cash from his waistband. "Thanks for the money, sir. This will help with the rent. Is this hard enough for you? Can I go now?" he asked.

I clicked it off, and he pulled his camera out and started recording. "If anyone finds this, I was hiking this morning, and this dude approached me with his boner sticking out and offered me four hundred dollars to get myself hard for him. I know it was wrong, but I'm laid off and needed the cash..."

I covered my cock again, and it hit me what he was doing. I had lost track of what he was saying as my mind was catching up to what was happening. Then, I quickly turned my attention back to him.

"... tell the police this is the guy if anything happens to me." He stopped recording and smiled. "Now, are you done with the threats, my friend?"

He looked at me calmly, with his boner still raging. Mine had begun to soften quickly with the stunning events of the last minute.

"You must live pretty close. No pockets, no water, no car keys." He looked me up and down and nodded toward my wedding ring. "Let me guess, the wife's not holding up her end, and you're feeling a little horny, my friend?

"You're crazy..." I protested, but I could tell he caught the look of shock on my face, and he knew he nailed it.

"Am I? What color are my eyes, my friend?" I looked up at his face, red as a tomato. The arrogant smile was more significant than before. "Exactly. Your eyes have been on the prize the whole fucking time. 'Til now, you couldn't have given the cops a de***********ion of anything but my dick.

Option A: I can spend ten minutes when I get home looking for new home purchases in the area and find out where you live. Then we can share our phone vids with your wife and the cops; or B: You can help a friend, after which we can mutually delete them."

He rocked his boner side to side, emphasizing the help he needed. I wondered how the fuck he stayed hard through this as I stood, frozen in place, thinking what to do. If Amy or the cops saw the phone evidence, I would be fucked. How the hell did this turn so bad, so fast?

"Follow me, my friend; let's continue our negotiations slightly off the beaten path." He turned and walked further into the woods. "Better hurry; the morning rush will start soon."

I looked at my phone. It was almost seven. It hit me, I woke up an hour ago, and I had already wholly fucked myself. I secretly hit record on my phone again, hoping to stop things from worsening. I could regain some leverage if I could get him to say something incriminating.

He walked about twenty-five yards further in, and I followed reluctantly. "What is it you want? What's your name, by the way?" I asked, mind racing.

"My name's Mark, what's yours?" he answered calmly, turning to show me his still-stiff dick close up. My name is Wayne, but I told him it was Steven.

"So what is it you want, Steven?"

"I'm not sure I understood the question," I replied.

"You offered me four hundred dollars to get my dick hard, and I did. Then you said if I let you give me a hand job, you'd get me four hundred dollars more. You know I need the money, so I'm going to let you jack me off."

I was getting frustrated beyond comprehension. This guy just kept turning the screws tighter, and I couldn't see a way out. If he showed up, with Amy's current state of mind, she would never forgive me, even though I did nothing wrong. I decided to keep trying to slip him up.

"Whatever, so if I jack you off, that will end it. We'll purge our phones and get back to our lives?"

"You're confusing me, Steven. You offered me money. I know it's wrong, but I need it and did what you asked. I made myself hard for you. Then you showed me more, knowing I can't afford to say no. The other four hundred would pay all my rent, so I am willing to do that.

"I already told you I wasn't comfortable pretending to force you to do it 'cause I would never make someone do something they didn't want to. But I'll do it if that's what it takes. I'll even do that other stuff you asked if I have to. Does that make you happy, Steven? I'll do whatever you want; please decide, Steven, option A or B, and let's get this done."

I could see no way out and answered, "Option B." I could not risk this perv showing up at my house. Unbelievably, his cock was still fucking hard with the skin stretched so tight; his cock head looked shiny.

"Okay, so here we go. You want to touch my cock don't you, Steven?" he asked, with his arrogant tone.

"Yes," I answered, fuming.

"Where are your manners, Steven?"

"Yes, please, Mark," I replied softly.

"Did you tell me you wanted to jack me off till I cum on your face, Steven?"

"Yes, please, Mark," I answered with growing rage. Every misstep pulled me in deeper.

"Okay, you can touch it." He stepped closer, putting us nose to nose.

I said, "Walk away; he won't arrive at your house. Why the fuck did you fall for this shit and let him record you with a fucking boner, you idiot."

"Okay, Plan A then, Steven? Looking forward to meeting the little woman."

"All right. I'll 'help you out,' and you give me your fucking phone to wipe that shit off, right?"

"Scouts honor, Steven," he said, saluting the scout.

My phone was in my right hand, so I reached out with my left and gripped it softly. I had never touched another man's cock, and he felt like warm steel wrapped in silk. When I touched him, it was like a dam had burst inside me, and his heat rushed through me and settled into my balls. I could feel my cock stiffening and tried to stop it.

I slowly stroked him, wanting to end this.

He moaned, "It's much better having someone else's hand do this, Steven."

I kept stroking him, telling my dick to go limp, but my entire groin area was tingling out of control. I wanted to let go and get control of myself, but I dared not. I could feel his skin slide over his stiff, veiny shaft as I pumped it. I told myself, "Just get him off and delete the videos. Then you're done."

He looked into my eyes. His was dark brown, like his hair. He kept staring at me, inches from my face. It was too awkward, so I closed my eyes to end the absurd staring contest he seemed to be starting.

"Oh, you like that, don't you, Steven? Damn, you got me so fucking hard." His voice sent shivers down my spine.

"This is sick, please, just end this already. You made your point; please let me go," I pleaded.

"Okay, Steven, I'll play along. We're not even close to done, Steven," he replied in his dominant voice while his hand pressed against my stiffening cock.

I gasped, pulled my pelvis back, and looked at him pleadingly.

"Your mouth says no, but your dick says, 'Oh, hell yes,' Steven." He gripped me firmly and stroked my cock through the shorts.

I grunted, trying not to give him any encouragement, and stroked him harder and faster. I needed to make him come to an end.

"Damn, Steven, you like this, buddy," he said, rubbing me faster.

I bent at the waist, pulling my cock away. "Huh-uh!" I shook my head, bent over, with my ass sticking out, so he couldn't reach my dick.

He seemed to get the message and kept his hands to himself as I continued to stroke him. His moans made me think I was getting him close, but I couldn't push him over the edge.

I continued to jack him off harder when, finally, he suggested, "Two hands, Steven." Then he gripped my phone. "I'll hold this for you."

I let him have the phone, moved my left hand to his ball sack, and rubbed it softly. He groaned with pleasure as my right hand stroked his cock near the tip, where his pre-cum had begun to ooze.



To be continued