upwards. ‘Fuck! It’s burning!’
Without looking at me, Christos wrapped his hand around my toes, then traced up along the arch of my instep with his fingers, before closing them around my ankle. I lifted my other leg up on to the dashboard, allowing my denim miniskirt to crease right up around the top of my thighs. My skirt had ridden so high that I was now exposing my lacy, lilac crotch.
He looked down at me and gripped a fist around my leg.
‘We’re here,’ he said, easing his foot off the accelerator and turning to the left again. Then, in a rare act of recklessness, he pressed his foot to the floor and plunged us down into the darkness.
‘Jesus, Christos!’
‘You know you’re safe, Nichi.’
Christos eased the car into a bay at the top of the garage, our headlights casting the only light on our surroundings. I could just about make out the bodies of two other vehicles, but it was essentially as he had promised, a dark, discreet space. It was perfect for daytime sex.
He barely had a chance to slam on the handbrake before I lunged at him. We kissed so hard my mouth ached from the off. Christos grappled with his belt, freeing the buckle, and I pulled at the corner of his fly, rapidly releasing the other three buttons. His cock sprang at my fingers and I started to masturbate him over the fabric of his boxer shorts. Christos, meanwhile, clamped his right hand over the lilac knickers, running the thumb of his left under the lacy rim. My knickers were askew, partly exposing my already swollen pussy. He prised away the fabric, sliding the tip of his index finger up in between my lips and towards my clitoris.
I took a sharp intake of breath and stopped my own hand for a few seconds, unable to concentrate on touching him at the same time. Then I slid my fingers behind the fabric of his boxer shorts and began to masturbate him again.
Christos rolled up my top with the palm of his hand, arranged it so that it rested across the swell of my cleavage. Then he inched up the bra, pushing at the underwiring to expose the bottom half of my breasts, and licked along the freed white skin. My nipples prickled against the fabric, desperate for him to flick his tongue over them. But he knew what denying me would do. Christos eased one, then two, then three fingers into my wetness.
When he kissed up along my neck, sinking his mouth into me, I threw my head hard back against the seat. More deliberately now, he worked his fingers in and out of me and I squeezed myself around his hand, clasping my own fingers about his cock.
The tip of it moistened my fingers, and I massaged them along his full length, increasing the speed of my strokes. ‘Yes,’ he said, leaning in to me. ‘Keep going, I’m so close.’
‘Me too,’ I whispered, and started to moan, the pitch of my utterances climbing higher and higher the closer I got to climax. Christos swelled one final time under my grip. With my free hand I grabbed at his wrist and thrust his fingers full up into me. We shuddered into an electric orgasm, lips caught between broken
s’agapos
and clawing kisses, our heads pressed together.
Afterwards, I lay my head on Christos’s shoulder and we stayed there for a moment, looking at one another. In the darkness only the whites of his eyes and the ivory glow of my breasts were visible. Suddenly one of the other cars ground to life, headlights flashing at us accusingly through our rear window.
‘Hang on, did we have an audience again? This is getting to be a habit.’ Christos grinned at me.
‘Time to go, I think, Christos
mou
.’
He was still wearing his seatbelt.
As soon as we arrived at the resort, the receptionist ushered us over to a downy, dove-grey couch, where champagne cocktails had been left for us on a low-level granite table. After a perfectly calculated amount of time, a porter appeared to show us to our room.
‘Not bad for a freebie, eh, Nichi
mou
?’
Christos and I admired the room. It was more like a
Without looking at me, Christos wrapped his hand around my toes, then traced up along the arch of my instep with his fingers, before closing them around my ankle. I lifted my other leg up on to the dashboard, allowing my denim miniskirt to crease right up around the top of my thighs. My skirt had ridden so high that I was now exposing my lacy, lilac crotch.
He looked down at me and gripped a fist around my leg.
‘We’re here,’ he said, easing his foot off the accelerator and turning to the left again. Then, in a rare act of recklessness, he pressed his foot to the floor and plunged us down into the darkness.
‘Jesus, Christos!’
‘You know you’re safe, Nichi.’
Christos eased the car into a bay at the top of the garage, our headlights casting the only light on our surroundings. I could just about make out the bodies of two other vehicles, but it was essentially as he had promised, a dark, discreet space. It was perfect for daytime sex.
He barely had a chance to slam on the handbrake before I lunged at him. We kissed so hard my mouth ached from the off. Christos grappled with his belt, freeing the buckle, and I pulled at the corner of his fly, rapidly releasing the other three buttons. His cock sprang at my fingers and I started to masturbate him over the fabric of his boxer shorts. Christos, meanwhile, clamped his right hand over the lilac knickers, running the thumb of his left under the lacy rim. My knickers were askew, partly exposing my already swollen pussy. He prised away the fabric, sliding the tip of his index finger up in between my lips and towards my clitoris.
I took a sharp intake of breath and stopped my own hand for a few seconds, unable to concentrate on touching him at the same time. Then I slid my fingers behind the fabric of his boxer shorts and began to masturbate him again.
Christos rolled up my top with the palm of his hand, arranged it so that it rested across the swell of my cleavage. Then he inched up the bra, pushing at the underwiring to expose the bottom half of my breasts, and licked along the freed white skin. My nipples prickled against the fabric, desperate for him to flick his tongue over them. But he knew what denying me would do. Christos eased one, then two, then three fingers into my wetness.
When he kissed up along my neck, sinking his mouth into me, I threw my head hard back against the seat. More deliberately now, he worked his fingers in and out of me and I squeezed myself around his hand, clasping my own fingers about his cock.
The tip of it moistened my fingers, and I massaged them along his full length, increasing the speed of my strokes. ‘Yes,’ he said, leaning in to me. ‘Keep going, I’m so close.’
‘Me too,’ I whispered, and started to moan, the pitch of my utterances climbing higher and higher the closer I got to climax. Christos swelled one final time under my grip. With my free hand I grabbed at his wrist and thrust his fingers full up into me. We shuddered into an electric orgasm, lips caught between broken
s’agapos
and clawing kisses, our heads pressed together.
Afterwards, I lay my head on Christos’s shoulder and we stayed there for a moment, looking at one another. In the darkness only the whites of his eyes and the ivory glow of my breasts were visible. Suddenly one of the other cars ground to life, headlights flashing at us accusingly through our rear window.
‘Hang on, did we have an audience again? This is getting to be a habit.’ Christos grinned at me.
‘Time to go, I think, Christos
mou
.’
He was still wearing his seatbelt.
As soon as we arrived at the resort, the receptionist ushered us over to a downy, dove-grey couch, where champagne cocktails had been left for us on a low-level granite table. After a perfectly calculated amount of time, a porter appeared to show us to our room.
‘Not bad for a freebie, eh, Nichi
mou
?’
Christos and I admired the room. It was more like a
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