“You have no idea how bad I want to feel your pussy squeezing my cock. Not tonight, though. Less chance you’ll regret it if we wait until you’re sober.”
“I’ve been chugging water for the last hour. I’m hardly even tipsy.” She teeters on my thigh, rubbing herself on me in slow, methodical movements.
“God, I don’t know, Whit.”
“I’ve been horny all night,” she whimpers. The whimper turns into a husky moan when she moves her pelvis a certain way. “Please. I want this.”
“Are you sure? I don’t…”
Her whole body is tense, stalling over my leg and waiting for my go-ahead. “Colt, I wanted this in the alley. I’d had, like, one drink then. I want this. I promise it’s fine.”
Shit.I play with her hair, buying myself time and figuring out what the appropriate way to handle this is. If she’s insisting she’s not too drunk, and I’m not touching her, then it’s fine, isn’t it?
“Is riding my thigh helping?”
“Yeah. It’s like when I…yeah.” Sinking back down, she exhales a soft sigh of relief and ecstasy as she goes back to using me to get herself off. And I give in.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Then ride me, Mama.”
I don’t know where to put my hands, so I place them on her thighs. My fingers press into her flesh to stop myself from crossing a line. Though remembering my morals becomes nearly impossible when she drags her pussy against my thigh, and she’s so wet it dampens my jeans. Her forehead presses firmly to mine, whimpers tumbling from her lips with every hard grind of her pussy against me.
Arching her back, Whit rides my thigh like she’s riding my cock, filling the small space with moans of pleasure. She’s getting off on me, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Steadying herself with a fistful of my shirt, the gorgeous goddess in my lap takes exactly what she wants. Treats me like her personal toy. Zero inhibition.
I’m completely in awe of her.
“Fuck,this is so hot.” Drenched denim sticks to my thigh, and I glide my hands to her hips to keep her upright. “Use me, honey.”
Her bottom lip skates between her teeth. “You like being my fucktoy?”
“So fucking much. Come on my thigh.Please,Whit.”
The light blue panties she has on will forever be etched into my memory, because with her dress bunched in my firmgrip, I can see that thin fabric pulled taut between her bare pussy lips. My chest heaves at the sight.
God, I want to touch her. I want to lay her across this bench seat and lick my way around her pussy. Slide those panties down her thighs and press a gentle kiss to her clit. I want her coming in my mouth and on my cock, but for tonight I’ll settle for dry humping and her coming on my lap.
I reach down to grip my erection through my jeans, hoping a quick stroke will ease some of the tension and tightness. My thigh quakes under her hot, wet pussy. The fingers of one hand dig deeper into her hip, the other squeezes as hard as I can manage around my cock.
“Colt.” A tiny sob. She’s frantic now. Clutching my hair and trembling all over.
“That’s it,” I choke out. My cock throbs, the edges of my vision growing dark and foggy, and with a choked gasp, I’m spilling cum into my boxer briefs.
I grab Whit’s jaw, thumb pressed to her chin, and my tongue invades her mouth. Every moan and whimper of hers is captured by my kiss. And her hips move wildly over my thigh until her muscles turn rigid with an impending release.
“Fuck,” Whit rasps, hips convulsing and entire body quivering on top of mine. “Oh…fuck.”
We’re floating, riding the orgasm-induced high, and giggling into each other’s mouths like a pair of love-drunk teens making out in the truck. Over time, our kisses become softer and sweeter. Until they’re back to being cutesy, flirty pecks, just the way this entire thing started.
Only now, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Whatever this was before. Whateverwewere before. It all became something so much bigger tonight. The carefully guarded ember’s now a roaring flame.
Eventually the windows aren’t so fogged up, and everything’s moving in tired slow motion. Whit clutches my shirt,using it as leverage to slip off my lap and into the middle seat. I only let my palm leave her thigh for long enough to buckle her in and shift the truck into gear.
She sighs, contented, slumping further into the seat and resting her head against my shoulder.
I kiss the top of her head. “Happy birthday, beautiful.”
“Best birthday ever,” she says through a drawn-out yawn. “I’m glad Blair talked me into going out. And I’m glad you came.”
