and pushed her legs apart. Hooking her legs over my shoulders I sank my face in her cunt, already fragrant and wet from the last orgasm. I licked her clean and then set about making her come again. It didn’t take long; her clit was swollen and hard. Ripe and ready. I latched my lips around it and sucked in a steady rhythm.
She didn’t keep silent this time. I heard her cry out—over the top of the gun shots, the squeal of cars and the shouts of the actors. Still I didn’t stop. Not until I felt that sweet clench of muscles against my lips. As soon as she’d come I got up and sat back down in my seat. My cock was so hard the buckle of my belt was biting into the swollen head. It hurt, but I didn’t adjust it. I just took it. Took the pain.
After she’d stopped shuddering and had adjusted her skirt I leaned in close and said, “That’s two. Kiss me. Taste yourself on my mouth.”
She liked that. In an instant her mouth was on me devouring until my face was completely licked clean of her juices.
I let her sit for another half hour before I flicked up her skirt and played with her clit again. She tried to push it down, cover my hand but I didn’t let her. No one could see her here, but there was still the risk. I needed her spread legged, cunt out. Exposed. This time I made her fuck herself with her fingers while I grasped her little clit between a finger and thumb and pinched it until she came.
Barely five minutes and I was rewarded with climax number three.
When we left the cinema she gripped my arm, her legs weren’t holding her up so well. But she didn’t protest. She said nothing. I figured her to be a little shell shocked.
I drove her home. Almost certainly she thought that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. I had one more plan, for her and for me. The climax of all the anticipation.
She lived with her parents, but I knew they were out of town. Only her sister was home. All the lights were out, except for one shining on the porch—which meant her sister was either out or asleep. We wouldn’t be interrupted.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. One of only a handful of words she’d spoken the whole night.
I waited until she reached for the door handle before I stopped her. Gripping her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make her stop.
“One more Mary-Jane.”
“I can’t,” she whimpered, “Honest Jake I don’t think I can.”
“You can and you will.”
There it was again—that little hitch in her breath. She wanted this. And I needed it. I needed to feel that burn.
I unbuckled my belt and let down my zip, finally releasing my aching cock. From my pocket I took a condom and slid it over my shaft. I was so turned on it was almost painful to touch. I grit my teeth as I pulled down the latex sheath. She watched silent the whole time. I reached for the lever under me and slid the whole bench seat back as far as it would go.
“Come here,” I said, “Come sit on me.”
She didn’t move and I said nothing more. I just waited, my cock standing up out of the fly of my jeans.
Only a moment passed before she let out a little moan and came over. Hitching her leg across my thighs she lined the mouth of her cunt up with my cock and hovered above me. “Fuck me Mary-Jane. Fuck me until you come. I won’t help you. Do what you need.”
She slammed herself down until her pubic bone hit the root of my cock. With her hands on my shoulders she levered herself, shifting her hips until she found just the right spot. She started a rhythmic rocking motion that made her moan and me clench my jaw. She was close. I could hear it in her breath. In the gasping moans that came closer and closer. Louder and Louder.
I was close. But I wasn’t going to come. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I was biting down on my lip so hard that the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.
It was agony. Sheer agony to feel that wet velvet fist of a cunt slide down over and over. To have no control over her