“Off,” he commands before slipping out. I slide down his body, and he spins me around, so my cheek is pressed against the chilly divider. He pulls my hips to him like on the dance floor, but this time, he thrusts himself into me from behind.
“Fuck!” I shout, before screaming with lust.
He snarls in my ear. “I need you to come for me, you little slut. Give it to me.” His right-hand slides around my hip and he plays with my clit.
“Mm, God, don’t stop!”
“Never,” he assures me.
The throb builds in my button, while my G-spot aches with each heavy pound. I’m so close to something good. My body tightens on him as I get there.
He rasps, “I can feel you locking onto me, you naughty girl. It’s like the suction I get from your perfect mouth. You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir!” I whimper.
“Now,” he orders.
I obey.
“Yes, SIR!” I scream as he beats my pussy into submission with his fingers and his thick cock. My cunt spasms violently before dissolving into a series of ripples, each one stronger than the last.
“Fuck, yes!” Gray tenses up, then shouts more curses as he comes inside me, the semen thick and hot. He licks up my neck, while he pumps his seed into me, desperate to empty his balls. I shake and shiver with each motion. I love my helplessness in his strong arms. I yearn for those moments when it seems like we are the only people in the world, as though it was made for just us and our passion. But how much longer do we have? School hasn’t started yet, but it’s just around the corner. Will this be the end of us?
11
Gray
“I told you, you don’t have to do this.”
“And I told you that I want to.”
I huff behind the blindfold. We’re in Harlow’s tiny Audi sedan on what I can only guess is a backroad by all the bumps. I swore I wouldn’t cheat, but I’m dying to look. Usually, I’m the one in control, so this is different. It’s so weird to have the shoe on the other foot and I’m not sure if I like this.
She told me to wear jeans and a t-shirt, but it pales in comparison to her outfit. She’s got on a retro halter dress with polka dots which emphasizes her curves. Her breasts overfill the tight corset top, and her hair is done up in curls, with sassy peep-toe shoes that make me pant. I can’t wait to get my hands on those lush assets.
We pull up somewhere, and the car stops. I can hear motors running, and my ears perk. Where the hell are we, some kind of car show? Finally, Harlow says, “You can take off the blindfold, Gray.”
I do, and I’m at a complete loss for words. I have no idea where we are exactly because it feels like we’ve been driving for hours. But more importantly, there are teenagers and motocross bikes everywhere. I see the signs for a motocross stunt riding competition, and I’m astonished.
“How?! What?!”
She giggles, “Surprised?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I had no idea you were into this.”
Harlow is undeniably pleased by my reaction while giggling to herself. We get out and the riders are warming up, doing laps on the track and the occasional whip. I ask her, “How did you know that I’m into motocross?”
“Don’t be mad.”
“I couldn’t possibly be mad about this,” I say before dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Good. I asked my dad about what you used to like to do when you were my age, and he told me you used to ride motocross and do stunts. I looked up motocross, found this competition, and here we are,” she says.
I drop another kiss on her bare shoulder.
“I am beyond touched by this, Harlow, and when we get home, I am going to show you just how much I appreciate it.”
“Promise?” she flirts.
“I guarantee it. I’m going to make you walk crooked for a week,” I growl. She giggles.
“There’s a restroom around here somewhere, in case you can’t wait.”
I laugh. “Oh, no. I get to watch the stunt riders, and then I fuck you silly.”
She grins. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mister.”
We take our seats, and I shade my eyes from the lights.
“I’m surprised Brent even remembers my old hobby because I’d almost given it up completely by the time we met.”
Harlow nods.
“No, Dad remembers. He said you rode a bike around campus, but it wasn’t like anyone else’s bike, and when he asked you about it, you freaked him out by doing some sort of flip. Apparently, that made an impression that he hasn’t forgotten to this very day.”
I smile. “I guess so.”
“How did you get into motocross by the way?”
I grin at the memory.
“Like anything else. You get a bike, and your friends dare you to do something stupid. You do it, they’re impressed. One thing leads to another and soon you’re obsessed.”
“Yeah, but a lot of it looks as scary as hell,” she says while gazing out at the riders.
I smile, lost in thought.
“I wonder if I could still manage a heel clicker.”
“A what?”
It’s my turn to explain the finer points of motocross, and I enjoy it. I tell Harlow the names of a couple tricks and how the riders are judged. She listens with real interest and asks smart questions. Part of me is reliving the past, but a bigger part of me is focused on my future, with Harlow by my side.
As I go through the files on my computer, I’m only half paying attention. After the motocross exhibition, we spent the rest of the weekend in bed because I can never
