listen. He undid
my shorts and slid a hand down my stomach and under the band of my panties to
the forbidden triangle between my legs. I sighed when I realized his intentions
and captured his free hand in mine. We laced our fingers, the only sound in the
closed cabin our heavy breathing.
He circled the skin below my
trimmed hair and above the dampening crest below.
“ Yes ,” I breathed and
all but pushed his hand down. He gave and I opened my legs to accommodate his
hand. He stroked the puffy lips lightly, sending little currents up into my
pussy, before dipping into them. I sucked in a sharp breath, arched from him
and though I couldn’t see his face, I could feel him smiling. He smiled a lot
when we were together, laughed sometimes too. I’d never been with someone where
it was completely appropriate to laugh while we fucked when no other emotion
would quite do.
“Relax. There you go. Good
girl.”
I settled and sighed and
closed my eyes, trying not to be completely overwhelmed by every touch and
emotion he elicited so expertly with his fingers. He worked two fingers, then
three into me, scooping my sex with increasing urgency. He felt for the dent
inside me, the little spot that made me lose my head and turn words into noises
of eager need. He rumbled his approval into my neck where he left thorough
kisses up to my ear.
He fingered me deep and hard,
knuckles bruising against my wet lips, and while the pain throbbed dully it
also inflamed my frenzy. I clutched his shirt in my fist and squeezed his hand.
He soaked his hand in my damp folds and shook my mound lightly in his palm. It
was a nothing motion that lit me up like a light bulb, a possessive, claiming
thing. I bit my lip, gyrated into his palm to rub my swollen clit into his
fingers.
“Come for me, Cass,” he
growled into my ear. He brought our laced hands across my stomach to hold me
against him tighter. It wasn’t like having his cock inside me, this was both
dirtier and more innocent and completely frantic.
He let go of my hand to slide
it into my panties too and I clawed fervently at the window, slick with
condensation. I wound my other hand behind his neck to hold him.
He continued plunging his
fingers in and out of me while his other hand nudged back the fleshy hood to
expose my clit. He touched me and I raged, covetous and ardent against his
hands. The overstimulation blew my thoughts, blissed me out like an addict and
everywhere he touched was too good, too much, to everywhere .
“Jason,” I gasped. “Oh, god,
I can’t…I…Jason!” I came apart all at once, seizing and flying, knotting and
melting. I shuddered, shook, squeezed as I came humping against his hands.
When I opened my eyes again,
minutes or years later, his hands were no longer inside me. I wiped weakly at
the drips and fog on the driver’s side door window and gazed out at the sun
dappled orchard. No longer did the forgotten trees look like dying old men.
They looked fairy-tale like. Beautiful and forgotten and ours .
“Better?” he whispered
against my skin and I nodded. He wiped his hands off on a handkerchief, then
held me in his lap for a long time while I watched the sun sink behind the
overgrown trees.
Of all things, his phone
ringing startled us out of our reverie. He sighed and shifted my weight to
retrieve his cell from his pocket.
“Yeah?” Silence. His brows
drew together suddenly and he tensed. “Wait. Slow down.”
He set me off his lap onto
the seat next to him and I flushed while I buttoned my shorts back up and tried
to straighten up what was clearly orgasm hair. His expression went from peace
to aggravation in a second.
“No, don’t do that, you’ll
only piss him off. I got tied up, but I’m on my way now. Don’t let him get on
it.” There was a moment of silence as he listened to someone on the other end
yelling. “Damn it, Jonathan, he’s not a child. Manage the situation for ten
minutes, that’s all I ask.”
Jonathan . Well that
my shorts and slid a hand down my stomach and under the band of my panties to
the forbidden triangle between my legs. I sighed when I realized his intentions
and captured his free hand in mine. We laced our fingers, the only sound in the
closed cabin our heavy breathing.
He circled the skin below my
trimmed hair and above the dampening crest below.
“ Yes ,” I breathed and
all but pushed his hand down. He gave and I opened my legs to accommodate his
hand. He stroked the puffy lips lightly, sending little currents up into my
pussy, before dipping into them. I sucked in a sharp breath, arched from him
and though I couldn’t see his face, I could feel him smiling. He smiled a lot
when we were together, laughed sometimes too. I’d never been with someone where
it was completely appropriate to laugh while we fucked when no other emotion
would quite do.
“Relax. There you go. Good
girl.”
I settled and sighed and
closed my eyes, trying not to be completely overwhelmed by every touch and
emotion he elicited so expertly with his fingers. He worked two fingers, then
three into me, scooping my sex with increasing urgency. He felt for the dent
inside me, the little spot that made me lose my head and turn words into noises
of eager need. He rumbled his approval into my neck where he left thorough
kisses up to my ear.
He fingered me deep and hard,
knuckles bruising against my wet lips, and while the pain throbbed dully it
also inflamed my frenzy. I clutched his shirt in my fist and squeezed his hand.
He soaked his hand in my damp folds and shook my mound lightly in his palm. It
was a nothing motion that lit me up like a light bulb, a possessive, claiming
thing. I bit my lip, gyrated into his palm to rub my swollen clit into his
fingers.
“Come for me, Cass,” he
growled into my ear. He brought our laced hands across my stomach to hold me
against him tighter. It wasn’t like having his cock inside me, this was both
dirtier and more innocent and completely frantic.
He let go of my hand to slide
it into my panties too and I clawed fervently at the window, slick with
condensation. I wound my other hand behind his neck to hold him.
He continued plunging his
fingers in and out of me while his other hand nudged back the fleshy hood to
expose my clit. He touched me and I raged, covetous and ardent against his
hands. The overstimulation blew my thoughts, blissed me out like an addict and
everywhere he touched was too good, too much, to everywhere .
“Jason,” I gasped. “Oh, god,
I can’t…I…Jason!” I came apart all at once, seizing and flying, knotting and
melting. I shuddered, shook, squeezed as I came humping against his hands.
When I opened my eyes again,
minutes or years later, his hands were no longer inside me. I wiped weakly at
the drips and fog on the driver’s side door window and gazed out at the sun
dappled orchard. No longer did the forgotten trees look like dying old men.
They looked fairy-tale like. Beautiful and forgotten and ours .
“Better?” he whispered
against my skin and I nodded. He wiped his hands off on a handkerchief, then
held me in his lap for a long time while I watched the sun sink behind the
overgrown trees.
Of all things, his phone
ringing startled us out of our reverie. He sighed and shifted my weight to
retrieve his cell from his pocket.
“Yeah?” Silence. His brows
drew together suddenly and he tensed. “Wait. Slow down.”
He set me off his lap onto
the seat next to him and I flushed while I buttoned my shorts back up and tried
to straighten up what was clearly orgasm hair. His expression went from peace
to aggravation in a second.
“No, don’t do that, you’ll
only piss him off. I got tied up, but I’m on my way now. Don’t let him get on
it.” There was a moment of silence as he listened to someone on the other end
yelling. “Damn it, Jonathan, he’s not a child. Manage the situation for ten
minutes, that’s all I ask.”
Jonathan . Well that
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