minute of it.
“Come for me,” he rasped as she slipped one of the thin straps of the dress off her shoulder and released one small, firm, hard-nippled breast into the evening air. “Oh God, Paige,” he moaned as he leaned forward and took that nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first until realizing that her hips were now moving faster.
“Oh, Jesus, yes,” she squeaked, digging her fingertips into his biceps as he stroked faster. “More,” she gasped. “Harder. Inside . . . Oh God!”
Joey smiled into her breast then latched on hard as he slid two fingers into the warm, velvet grip of her pussy, keeping his thumb pressed against her clit. She came in a glorious pulse of energy around his fingers, a soft gush of fluid on his hand, and with a loud cry that made him pull his fingers out of her and sit back, gasping, staring around them. He was sort of glad he’d done that because it gave him a full view of her, her legs spread wide, her skirt hiked up, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the armrests, and that hair . . . dear Jesus, he loved that hair.
Her breathing calmed as he watched, willing his dick to soften so he could perhaps walk, talk and function for the next few hours. She heaved a huge sigh and stretched like a cat on a windowsill.
“Better?” he asked, feeling a tad pissed off that he had to wait, but knowing there was no way in hell he’d go any further with her like this, without the four walls and shut door of his hotel room around them.
“Very,” she answered, looking up at him from under her thick, dark lashes. “So nice,” she purred as she leaned over and stroked his dick through his jeans. “My turn,” she said, as she slid his zipper down.
“No,” he said, putting his hand over hers. “You’re late, remember?” With every ounce of self-control he possessed, Joey pressed her back into her seat and reassembled himself.
“You’re a prude,” she said as she wiggled out of her panties and held them up. “Look what you did to me, you bad, bad boyfriend.” He grabbed the soaking wet scrap of silk and heaved them into a row of shrubbery at the foot of the driveway.
“I’m not a prude. And you’re welcome, by the way.” He turned the key in the ignition with a shaking hand. “For the make-up orgasm. It’s what couples do after a fight, or so I hear.”
She leaned over the console into the backseat, making his head spin at the proximity of her pussy to his face. He closed his eyes, waiting until she found a fresh pair of underwear and flopped back into the seat.
“Okay, you’re not a prude. And that was a lovely make-up orgasm. Thank you.” She pulled the panties up her legs, then crossed them and put her sunglasses back on. “Let’s go then. We’re late, remember?” She slid the Raybans down her nose and shot him a look that melted what small remaining bit of reserve he owned.
“You’re a mess,” he said, pulling her hair back and trying not to kiss her again. “Fix your hair so you don’t look like we just made out in the driveway like a pair of teenagers.” She grinned and grabbed the hand he’d had inside her, putting his fingers in her mouth and sucking hard. “Jesus, Paige. Cut it out, or we’ll have to skip this whole thing and go straight to the nearest hotel.”
She grinned broadly now. “That sounds way better. Let’s do that instead.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” he said, pulling his fingers out of her mouth and giving her a fake punch to her bare shoulder. “Nice try, though.”
As he backed out onto the still deserted road, he admired her flushed profile as she fixed her hair. “I will need to find a place, you know, for me to stay.”
She shot him an arch look. “Don’t be silly, boyfriend. You’ll be staying at Casa DiFerrari. We have, like, six bedrooms in our house. Don’t worry. You’ll be made to feel very welcome, especially once my mama gets a load of your extreme cute factor.” She put her hand over his still
“Come for me,” he rasped as she slipped one of the thin straps of the dress off her shoulder and released one small, firm, hard-nippled breast into the evening air. “Oh God, Paige,” he moaned as he leaned forward and took that nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first until realizing that her hips were now moving faster.
“Oh, Jesus, yes,” she squeaked, digging her fingertips into his biceps as he stroked faster. “More,” she gasped. “Harder. Inside . . . Oh God!”
Joey smiled into her breast then latched on hard as he slid two fingers into the warm, velvet grip of her pussy, keeping his thumb pressed against her clit. She came in a glorious pulse of energy around his fingers, a soft gush of fluid on his hand, and with a loud cry that made him pull his fingers out of her and sit back, gasping, staring around them. He was sort of glad he’d done that because it gave him a full view of her, her legs spread wide, her skirt hiked up, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the armrests, and that hair . . . dear Jesus, he loved that hair.
Her breathing calmed as he watched, willing his dick to soften so he could perhaps walk, talk and function for the next few hours. She heaved a huge sigh and stretched like a cat on a windowsill.
“Better?” he asked, feeling a tad pissed off that he had to wait, but knowing there was no way in hell he’d go any further with her like this, without the four walls and shut door of his hotel room around them.
“Very,” she answered, looking up at him from under her thick, dark lashes. “So nice,” she purred as she leaned over and stroked his dick through his jeans. “My turn,” she said, as she slid his zipper down.
“No,” he said, putting his hand over hers. “You’re late, remember?” With every ounce of self-control he possessed, Joey pressed her back into her seat and reassembled himself.
“You’re a prude,” she said as she wiggled out of her panties and held them up. “Look what you did to me, you bad, bad boyfriend.” He grabbed the soaking wet scrap of silk and heaved them into a row of shrubbery at the foot of the driveway.
“I’m not a prude. And you’re welcome, by the way.” He turned the key in the ignition with a shaking hand. “For the make-up orgasm. It’s what couples do after a fight, or so I hear.”
She leaned over the console into the backseat, making his head spin at the proximity of her pussy to his face. He closed his eyes, waiting until she found a fresh pair of underwear and flopped back into the seat.
“Okay, you’re not a prude. And that was a lovely make-up orgasm. Thank you.” She pulled the panties up her legs, then crossed them and put her sunglasses back on. “Let’s go then. We’re late, remember?” She slid the Raybans down her nose and shot him a look that melted what small remaining bit of reserve he owned.
“You’re a mess,” he said, pulling her hair back and trying not to kiss her again. “Fix your hair so you don’t look like we just made out in the driveway like a pair of teenagers.” She grinned and grabbed the hand he’d had inside her, putting his fingers in her mouth and sucking hard. “Jesus, Paige. Cut it out, or we’ll have to skip this whole thing and go straight to the nearest hotel.”
She grinned broadly now. “That sounds way better. Let’s do that instead.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” he said, pulling his fingers out of her mouth and giving her a fake punch to her bare shoulder. “Nice try, though.”
As he backed out onto the still deserted road, he admired her flushed profile as she fixed her hair. “I will need to find a place, you know, for me to stay.”
She shot him an arch look. “Don’t be silly, boyfriend. You’ll be staying at Casa DiFerrari. We have, like, six bedrooms in our house. Don’t worry. You’ll be made to feel very welcome, especially once my mama gets a load of your extreme cute factor.” She put her hand over his still
Similar Books
