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He takes another hard turn.
“This isn’t the way we came.”
Now the low chuckle reaches his lips.
He says, “What ways would you like to come?”
His hand drops onto my leg, and fireworks start to fizz in my stomach. And lower. I pull the skirt of my dress up from under his hand, so his palm lays hot and heavy on my bare thigh. I’m shocked by my own boldness.
I know he won’t let on, but I think he’s shocked too when I drop my hand onto the top of his thigh.
In the lowest voice, I tell him, “Simultaneously is always appealing.”
He’s heading the car out into the mountains. And driving faster. His strong hand slides up, between my legs.
“Did you ever come at a hundred miles an hour?”
My hips tilt and my wanton pussy presses my wet panties into his hand.
I say, “You think you can make me come, just like that?”
He laughs. “Boy, are you in for a surprise.”
I shrug and tell him, “Ask me after. I’ll tell you if the feeling is familiar.”
He laughs again.
Under my hand, his hot throb swells and stiffens his straightening rod. A gasp of air fills my chest. As I stroke his length, the way he thickens up makes me shudder and buzz.
He says, “You don’t kid around, do you,” as his fingers move straight into my panties. He starts by pushing up, back, between the cheeks of my ass. Teasing and testing. Snaking and circling.
I need to keep control. Of the situation, as well as myself. But I need to get across to reach with both hands into his crotch. I have to get his pants open. I need his raw, naked cock in my hands. And for that, I need to pull myself up from melting back into the supple thickness of the seat.
He presses his fingers, sliding through the wet fabric.
“I don’t need to do this,” his voice is hard, “but if I start, you’ll have to go all the way.”
I never wanted it as much. The need is like a cry from deep down.
The car is speeding up, pressing me even deeper into the chair. His middle finger drags up my cleft, casually splitting me open. Carelessly flattening my fattening lips. Idly spreading the uncontrollable leak of my juices as he nonchalantly flicks his finger across my opening to shove under the soreness of my stalk.
While the hundred mile an hour wind shoves me back into the seat and whips my hair around, I’m fighting to get my weight forward and get some control. My fingers fumble at his belt.
He just laughs and shoves the throttle down harder as he flips me with the slightest, lightest shake of his finger. He sends me spinning higher and pushes into me, just enough, as if to say, I own you now… Inside, I’m clenching and collapsing, fighting for breath. But as soon as this rattle of spasms is through, I’m going to get his cock in my fingers. Then he is not going to know what hit him.
I hope this beast of a car has extra powerful airbags, because I’m going to blow his head off. Just as soon as the little burst is over and I’m through the aftershocks.
His fingers splatter me with electric neon blasts from my core up, but I’m coming right back. Even though he’s got my pussy stretching after him.
I can hardly breathe enough to control my hands, but I’ve got his belt open. I’ve got a hand inside his pants, over the top of his soft silky boxers. The nearer I get to him, the hotter and harder he gets. Good thing his pants are loose, because he’s already got them standing up like a circus tent.
Men have all the advantages. This one you wouldn’t even think of. It’s one heck of a task, stretching the waistband up and over the length — well, now I guess you’d say the height, of his firm, fat cock.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
As soon as I see him, exposed and in the open air, I almost let go and twang his pants back against him. That is some damned anaconda he’s carrying down there. No word of a lie, the man is packing a python par excellence.
His grin widens. My breath sucks all the way in and my eyes pop wide as he slides his two long middle fingers straight up into me. I can hardly breathe. He’s pushing through my folds like he knows them from way back.
