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Her hips press down, taking me all the way inside her.
“Mickey!” she moans, her nails digging into my shoulders, as if she’s not sure whether she’s here or in some other dimension. Neither am I, because the way her body molds to mine, it’s like we were always meant to be together, two halves of a whole.
As we rock together, our bodies moving in perfect sync, I can’t help but marvel at the way she fits so damn well against me. Every inch of her, hot and wet, sheathes me in a way that almost hurts, it’s so good. The space around us melts away, and all that remains is the slick slide of our bodies, skin on skin, and the sound of our ragged breaths as we push each other higher and higher.
Her breasts bounce with each thrust, and I can’t resist any longer. I have to taste her. I pull her top off and lower the cups on her bra. Fuck, her tits—her nipples—are magnificent.
Gently—at first—I take one swollen peak into my mouth. Her moan grows louder as I suck, harder now, greedier, as if I’ve been starving for her. And maybe I have been.
Her hands tangle in my hair, her fingers grappling for purchase as she urges me on. “Mickey, please…”
“You know what I read online, sweetheart?”
“N-no,” she whimpers. “What did you r-read?”
“Women can start lactating already in the sixteenth week of pregnancy. And you can induce lactation by sucking on the nipples alone.” I close my mouth around her nipple again, creating suction until she cries out. Whether from discomfort or pleasure, I don’t know, and I don’t particularly care. I want to taste her fucking milk. It might not be tonight or tomorrow, but I’ll keep sucking these fuckers until I get what I want.
She stops moving, her mouth forming a small O as a divot forms between her eyebrows. “You want my milk?” she asks, sounding incredulous.
Letting her tit fall from my mouth, I answer, “Of course.” Then I thrust upwards, making her moan. I want everything Gail’s body has to offer. And now that we’ve fucked a baby into her, it opens up a lot of possibilities I never even thought about. “I can’t wait until I can drink the milk from your nipples while fucking you until you can’t walk,” I moan.
Yep, sounds like fucking heaven to me.
For a moment, I worry I’ve scared her. However, when the confusion morphs into a smirk, I know that’s not the case. “I think I’d like that,” she hums. “Now make me come on your dick, Mickey.” Her words, so full of need, drive me wild. I reach between us, finding her clit, and I rub her in circles with my calloused fingertips.
Heat surges through me, a primal force that eclipses thought. Gail rocks against me, and the car becomes our world, small and infinite all at once. I feel her—really feel her—in a way that’s new, terrifying, and perfect. Her moans are my favorite melody, rising in pitch with every thrust.
“God, Mickey! So fucking good!” she pants, and her voice is a siren song pulling me deeper into the abyss of desire.
“Sweetheart, you’re incredible,” I rasp out, my breaths shallow as I trace the curve of her spine, feeling the shiver that courses through her body. The way she moves—fluid, like she’s both the ocean and the storm—is something I never want to forget. Every roll of her hips speaks of hunger, of need, and I’m more than willing to feast.
The rhythm we find is one of raw honesty; there’s no hiding in these movements, no pretense. It’s just me and Gail, and the truth of what we are together. I capture her lips with mine, a kiss that’s a promise and a confession all in one.
“More, please… I want more,” she whispers against my mouth, and it’s not just physical—it’s everything.
“Fuck, Gail...” The taste of her name on my tongue is sweeter than any victory I’ve ever tasted on the ice. “You feel so good.”
Her blue eyes lock onto mine, a stormy sea of emotion, and I’m drowning gladly. There’s power here between us, a current that pulls us under and pushes us toward something that feels a lot like destiny.
I’m pressed against her, the heat from our bodies mingling as we fight for control in the backseat of my car. Words, filthy and sweet, spill from my lips like prayers meant only for her ears. “God, Gail, you’re so tight,” I grunt, feeling every inch of me enveloped by her. “I want to feel you come around me.”
“Harder, Mickey,” she moans, nails digging into my shoulders, spurring me on. Her eyes, those vivid pools of blue, glaze over with lust, and it fuels my desire to please her, to push her over that edge. “Your cock… it’s perfect,” she whimpers, meeting my movements with her hips. The words are crude, raw, but they fit perfectly in this moment, where nothing exists but us.
“Fill me up! I want it all,” she says, her voice breaking as her body tenses beneath me.
When I put more pressure on her clit, she arches her back and cries out, her orgasm crashing through her like a tidal wave.
Her pussy pulses so hard around me I’m about to come. “Fuck, Gail, yes—” I can’t hold back any longer; pleasure crashes over me in waves, and I nut inside her as she shatters around me, her cries joining mine in the confined space of the car.
Too tired and used to sit upright, Gail sags against me, her head resting on my shoulder. Puffs of air hit my neck, making my skin pebble as I try to calm myself back down.
“Stay with me tonight?” she whispers.
Gently pulling away, lifting her onto the seat next to me, I fix our clothes, trying to return some semblance of order. “Not tonight, sweetheart,” I say softly. She looks so crestfallen I almost feel bad. “Not until you’re ready to come back to us.”
“Okay,” she says, her voice firm. “I get that.”
The drive home is quiet, but it’s a good kind of silence, filled with unspoken promises and the lingering touch of our encounter. I glance at Gail, her hair tousled, a flush still present on her cheeks. She looks out the window, but her hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers, grounding us in the reality of what’s happening.
