to.’
She reached down to her handbag and took out the knickers, waving them defiantly in his face.
‘Put ’em down,’ he said, taking hold of her wrist. ‘And get in the back seat. Now.’
She wanted to argue with him, but his tone brought out that strange meek side of her she hadn’t known existed before she met him and she climbed into the back, looking carefully out of the tinted back window to make sure nobody was peeping – not that they could see much through the opaque glass.
‘All right,’ he said, once she was seated in the back. He got in beside her and put a hand on her knee. ‘Now, show me.’
‘Jason! We could be seen.’
‘No we won’t. Lift up your skirt and show me what’s underneath.’
He was calm and confident and she found herself reaching for her hem and shuffling it up her thighs. He slung an arm across the seat, leaning in to her to watch as closely as possible. When the cotton inched up to the top of her thighs, he stopped her with a hand on hers.
‘Let me finish,’ he whispered.
She obliged him by raising her bottom slightly off the seat to let him push the fabric all the rest of the way, then sat back, the leather cool and thrilling against her bare skin. Why did this feel so extravagantly dirty? It was surely no different than bare legs and yet it felt completely, decadently other. Her pussy was throbbing and she knew that she would feel the wetness of it if she clamped her legs together.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
‘Open your legs,’ whispered Jason.
She spread her knees wide and sat, looking down on what went on lower down as if it were all happening to someone else. It wasn’t her, Jenna Myatt Diamond, sitting in a car with no knickers on, letting a rough estate lad take a good, long look at the goods. She would never do such a thing . . . She would never let him run his hand up her thigh and push his fingertips into the slippery centre of her, rubbing and teasing and whispering dirty words into her ear all along. She would never sit there, clenching her hands and her sphincter, trying not to gasp or cry out while he circled her clit with such cocky self-assurance, knowing exactly what he was doing to her and how to make her beg for more.
And Jenna Myatt Diamond would never have an orgasm in a car.
‘No, never,’ she panted, as she came over his fingertips.
‘Never what?’ He gave her a puzzled grin.
She sat back, shut her eyes and let herself flop against the leather.
‘Nothing. Don’t worry. God. You’re evil.’
‘I know. But I’m good as well, eh?’ He nibbled at her earlobe, then moved down to her neck. ‘Like you. My good girl. Doing as she’s told. Thought you deserved a little reward.’
She opened her eyes again.
‘And what about you?’ she asked, looking pointedly at his bulging crotch. ‘That looks uncomfortable.’
‘It is,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you might want to . . . give me a hand?’
She didn’t need asking twice. She released the protrusion from its close confines inside his jeans and gave it all the loving attention her hands could provide, using some hand cream to enhance his pleasure. The car park, the motorway services, the entire world fell away as she devoted herself wholeheartedly to making him feel as he had made her feel. He half-climbed over her, burying his face in her neck, and when his climax came he spurted himself over her bared thighs and pussy, sighing low and long.
‘What a mess,’ hissed Jenna, fumbling in her bag for some tissues.
‘Who cares?’ drawled Jason, sounding half-asleep and fully blissful. ‘Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. I love you.’
Her minor irritation faded and she kissed him, delicately removing him from where he clung so that she could get at the creamy residue on her skin.
‘I love you too,’ she said. ‘But I really think we should have waited until we were in the hotel. I hope nobody caught any of that.’
‘You’re paranoid,’ said Jason with a yawn. ‘Why
She reached down to her handbag and took out the knickers, waving them defiantly in his face.
‘Put ’em down,’ he said, taking hold of her wrist. ‘And get in the back seat. Now.’
She wanted to argue with him, but his tone brought out that strange meek side of her she hadn’t known existed before she met him and she climbed into the back, looking carefully out of the tinted back window to make sure nobody was peeping – not that they could see much through the opaque glass.
‘All right,’ he said, once she was seated in the back. He got in beside her and put a hand on her knee. ‘Now, show me.’
‘Jason! We could be seen.’
‘No we won’t. Lift up your skirt and show me what’s underneath.’
He was calm and confident and she found herself reaching for her hem and shuffling it up her thighs. He slung an arm across the seat, leaning in to her to watch as closely as possible. When the cotton inched up to the top of her thighs, he stopped her with a hand on hers.
‘Let me finish,’ he whispered.
She obliged him by raising her bottom slightly off the seat to let him push the fabric all the rest of the way, then sat back, the leather cool and thrilling against her bare skin. Why did this feel so extravagantly dirty? It was surely no different than bare legs and yet it felt completely, decadently other. Her pussy was throbbing and she knew that she would feel the wetness of it if she clamped her legs together.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
‘Open your legs,’ whispered Jason.
She spread her knees wide and sat, looking down on what went on lower down as if it were all happening to someone else. It wasn’t her, Jenna Myatt Diamond, sitting in a car with no knickers on, letting a rough estate lad take a good, long look at the goods. She would never do such a thing . . . She would never let him run his hand up her thigh and push his fingertips into the slippery centre of her, rubbing and teasing and whispering dirty words into her ear all along. She would never sit there, clenching her hands and her sphincter, trying not to gasp or cry out while he circled her clit with such cocky self-assurance, knowing exactly what he was doing to her and how to make her beg for more.
And Jenna Myatt Diamond would never have an orgasm in a car.
‘No, never,’ she panted, as she came over his fingertips.
‘Never what?’ He gave her a puzzled grin.
She sat back, shut her eyes and let herself flop against the leather.
‘Nothing. Don’t worry. God. You’re evil.’
‘I know. But I’m good as well, eh?’ He nibbled at her earlobe, then moved down to her neck. ‘Like you. My good girl. Doing as she’s told. Thought you deserved a little reward.’
She opened her eyes again.
‘And what about you?’ she asked, looking pointedly at his bulging crotch. ‘That looks uncomfortable.’
‘It is,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you might want to . . . give me a hand?’
She didn’t need asking twice. She released the protrusion from its close confines inside his jeans and gave it all the loving attention her hands could provide, using some hand cream to enhance his pleasure. The car park, the motorway services, the entire world fell away as she devoted herself wholeheartedly to making him feel as he had made her feel. He half-climbed over her, burying his face in her neck, and when his climax came he spurted himself over her bared thighs and pussy, sighing low and long.
‘What a mess,’ hissed Jenna, fumbling in her bag for some tissues.
‘Who cares?’ drawled Jason, sounding half-asleep and fully blissful. ‘Gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. I love you.’
Her minor irritation faded and she kissed him, delicately removing him from where he clung so that she could get at the creamy residue on her skin.
‘I love you too,’ she said. ‘But I really think we should have waited until we were in the hotel. I hope nobody caught any of that.’
‘You’re paranoid,’ said Jason with a yawn. ‘Why
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