She sighs softly. “You make me...”
“What?” I ask, massaging her tits with both hands. “What do I make you?”
“So wet.”
I groan in desire at her words. “Really?” I ask, my cock hard at the idea of her slick pussy. I run my hands under her skirt and press my fingertips against her cunt. Her panties are totally soaked, and I push them aside, dipping my fingers into her sweetness. “Oh God, you weren’t lying.”
“I never lie,” she moans as I begin to finger fuck her nice and good. I use my other hand to cup her round ass, squeezing it as she arches her back, her breasts practically asking to be devoured.
“You’re pussy’s so nice and tight.”
“You like that?” she asks, rocking her hips as she moves closer to orgasm. Her breathing is shallow, and her hands are in her hair, piling it up on top of her head.
“I fucking love it,” I tell her. Her skin is so damn warm and soft, I want her completely naked in my arms, legs wrapped around me, our bodies coming together as one.
I keep touching her until her little cunt is melting in my hands. “Oh, god, I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, leaning back until her back is resting on the dashboard.
My hand is drenched with her release and she cries out, “Oh fuck, fuck me, fuck yes!”
Her words have my cock hard as steel and when she finishes, she’s panting, eyes glistening.
“I love how vocal you are. Didn’t expect that.”
She covers her face with her hand. “Ohmigod. I don’t know what came over me.”
I pull down her hands gently. “Oh, sweetlips, I do. Turns out, you love to get finger banged on the first date.” We both start laughing hard--the exhilaration of the moment filling the truck.
“This a first date?” she asks after the waves of pleasure have swept over her. She bats her eyelashes, hand pressed to my chest.
“Some might call it that.”
“What do you call it?”
I cock my head to the side, trying to find her angle. Then I decide I don’t really give a damn what her angle is. I know what is mine. I want her. Now, and later. My words weren’t just smooth lines to get her to ride me in my truck. I saw this pretty thing on the side of the road and knew she was mine.
“I call it the first of many more to come.”
“You’re crazy,” she says, reaching for my belt buckle and sliding it off. The button on my jeans come next. Then the zipper.
“Crazy about you.”
“I’m the kinda of girl you want?”
I look at her as if she’s lost her marbles. “Hell, fucking yes, you are.”
She pulls out my cock without looking into my eyes. Her fingers run up and down my hard ridges, and I groan from the pleasure of her touch.
“Baby,” I moan, squeezing her ass.
“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” she says, lifting her ass.
“Okay, Millie. I’ll call you whatever you like just so long as you keep on doing this.” I reach for a condom in my glove box. There’s a whole Costco-sized pack and Millie sees it.
Her eyes go wide and then she smacks me in the shoulder, laughing. “God, you don’t mess around do you?” she teases ironically.
I shake my head, loving the fact that she isn’t getting worked up about the fact I’ve been to this rodeo.
“I like to be prepared is all.” I slide the condom on quickly, and then Millie sits down on top of me and I hold her hips as she eases herself down.
She sinks onto me, her perfect lips forming an ‘O’ as she expands to take me. “For now, why don’t you just call me your filthy-sweet girl.”
6
MILLIE
When I give him my address, he turns on his phone and enters it into his navigation app. Doing so causes his queue of texts to download and they started rolling in. Each time it causes the navigational directions to pause as the message is read.
Hey, Moxy, wanna come over after work?
Another: I’m off in an hour if you wanna get dinner?
Then: I’m still so horny thinking about our time last--
That’s when he yanks the phone from the stand and turns it off, tossing in the back of the cab.
“Fucking-A,” he groans, running a hand through his thick hair. “Why don’t you just tell me where to go?”
We drive to my house in near silence. It’s not that it’s awkward, exactly, it’s more about me trying to catch my breath. Remember myself. Gather my thoughts.
I just fucked a stranger in an abandoned parking lot.
And I liked it.
A lot.
This can never happen again.
He’s not just maybe a manwhore. He absolutely is.
“Sorry about that,” he says when we pull up at my apartment. “The texts, I mean. Not the night.”
“It’s fine. It’s what I expected.” I feel my walls going up, and part of me hates that. Hates that the vulnerable woman who screamed out as she came twenty minutes ago is long gone. I’m not like the women he’s used to. A woman who sends booty-call texts and asks for what she wants and invites strangers into her apartment.