Backseat Heat

We’re sitting in the back seat. He sits with his legs wide, and I’m hovering over him, kissing his sweet, precious lips like it’s the last thing I’ll ever taste. Our mouths move together hungrily, desperately. Every touch of his lips sends sparks across my skin.

I stop kissing him and just look at him full of hunger, full of passion. His eyes are dark, almost black, but sparkling with raw desire. His lips are wet, slightly parted, breathing heavy. His curls are messy, the result of my fingers pulling through them moments ago.

He’s wearing a black tank top that shows off his broad shoulders and those delicious, thick biceps. I notice how they tense under my gaze, and I can’t help but smirkI’m affecting him. His chest rises and falls heavily, his lean torso practically begging for my touch. His thick thighs are spread wide open, inviting me to sit on them, take him, ride him.

Fuck, I’m so hungry for him.

“I want to see you,” I whisper, backing up toward the other door, still catching my breath.

He looks at me like he’s ready to rip me apart, piece by piece. “I want to see you pleasure yourself,” I say, locking eyes with him, devouring him with my stare.

Without hesitation, he pulls his thick, hard cock out of his pants. The air between us shifts — it’s heavy, thick with lust. I can hardly breathe. My mind spirals as our eyes stay locked. He spits on his shaft and slowly begins to stroke himself, starting at the tip and gliding down to his balls, then up again. It’s simple, slow, deliberate and the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

I feel myself clench just from watching him, imagining the stretch of him inside me, thrusting deep, making me cry out his name without shame.

He shifts in the seat, pushing his hips upward. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. He sees the way my breathing quickens, the way my thighs press together with need.

“Touch yourself,” he says, voice thick and low, half panting.

A jolt of tension shoots through my body. I don’t even think I slide my pants down, leaving my panties on. I spread my legs for him and slip my hand into my panties, rubbing slow circles on my clit while I watch him watching me.

A knot of pleasure and nerves builds in my stomach, and my lips part with a soft moan. “That’s it, baby,” he growls.

My head falls back, my back arches, and I moan louder as the sensation grows. I slip two fingers inside myself, imagining they’re his.

“Take your top off,” he commands.

I lock eyes with him and obey lifting my top over my head and pulling my bra down so my breasts are bare for him. His gaze devours me.

I keep fingering myself, now deeper and faster, while my other hand circles my clit. I can feel it building that edge, that brink. Drops off sweat roll down his temple, his hand never stopping as he strokes his cock. I fixate on the way his biceps flex with every motion.

“I love watching my pretty little slut enjoy herself,” he moans. “Come for me, baby. Come with me.”

My legs start to close instinctively, overwhelmed by the pleasure but his hand finds my thigh and keeps me open, needing to see everything. He pulls my panties to the side, fully exposing me to him. I tremble beneath his gaze.

I’m falling apart.

My vision starts to blur around the edges. “I’m gonna come,” I breathe out, barely a whisper, barely coherent.

He leans in close, his hand still working his cock, and kisses me deeply the taste of him, the heat, it pushes me right over the edge.

I cry out into his mouth, coming hard while my body shakes around my fingers. He groans against my lips, and seconds later I feel the heat of his cum land on my stomach.

He wipes it up with his fingers, then brings them to my mouth. I suck them clean, eyes locked with his, tasting him without hesitation.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growls, and crashes his lips into mine againa hungry, wet, desperate kiss