The faintest brush of his lips on mine wakes me, and I pull him toward me, gripping his face and running my hands through his hair. He parts his lips, and I go to put my tongue into his mouth, but he tries to do the same, and we fight…
My heart beats too hard, and I push him away. “My turn to drive,” I announce.
“We can wait, don’t you think?” he asks, his voice husky, thick with need.
I glance down. His cock is straining against his pants so much that I wince. That has to feel painful.
A pang hits me. I want to give in. More than that, I want him. He doesn't have to smell to know that's the case, but I hold back.
Why? Why can’t I just be willing to see what we can do, what we can handle? We’re both adults, and we can fuck if we want to.
But I just laugh and pull him over to take this spot. He complies without complaint, although he pulls down his pants some and starts to touch himself.
"I heard that you have to ejaculate if you get an erection, or else your cock will fall off," I say as I start to drive.
“Not precisely true.”
“I didn’t think it would be. Sounds too much like an old wives’ tale.”
“It’s our balls that will fall off, not the cock.”
“Ah. Not much better.”
“No. And if we try to push it, to not release quickly enough, it does cause intense enough pain that I don’t want to see if Kurians are exempt from that.”
“Ah. Well, then…”
“Well then what?” he asks.
“Go ahead.”
“You’re impossible, you know that?” he grumbles.
I’m fighting with myself, and then I shrug. Fuck it.
I reach over, and I grab his cock. It jumps in my hand, and I slowly stroke it from its tip down the long shaft to his balls. I release his cock to grab his balls and gently squeeze them, running my nails on them.
“Ovian,” he groans.
With a grin, I grab his cock again, rubbing the top, yanking harder and harder. He thrusts, fucking my hand more than me stroking him, and without warning, faster than I would’ve expected, his hot cum squirts all over my hand.
“Fuck,” he murmurs.
“Did you like that?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Can’t you tell?”
I laugh.
He reaches into the back and yanks out something. I glance over to see that it’s a rag, and he wipes my hand clean. Only after he finishes does he clean himself and then shift to pull his pants back up.
“We should be there soon,” I inform him.
“Good,” Strol says.
Something in his tone has me curious, and I glance at him. He’s staring at me with a strange glint in his eyes and some kind of emotion that I can’t tell what it is before I have to turn my attention back to the road.
His hand squeezes my knee, and then he moves his hand away. I look back at him and smile. He winks, and I again return my focus to the drive. There’s no traffic now, mostly because it’s barely sunrise, but I still don’t want to drive off the road. This piece of crap is ready to fall apart, and that’s not because Strol did anything wrong when he got it back in working order. The vehicle had been in the scrapyard for a reason.
His hand is back on my knee again, but this time, it's sliding up. I do have a small stash of clothes in my pack, and I'm wearing shorts today. With his hand there, I wish I opted for the skirt I have.
I really shouldn’t, but it’s obvious what his intentions are, and I spread my legs. He hooks his finger to pull my panties away, and he rubs against my lips. I sink lower in my seat, spreading my legs as much as I can, giving in to him. My eyes barely stay open as he finds my clit. The sensations build, and I don’t think I can last much longer. What the hell is he doing to me? This is so fucking irresponsible, and I can’t. I can’t keep my eyes open.
As the orgasm claims me, I slam on the breaks, the vehicle jerking to a stop, but his fingers don’t stop fucking me, and I moan as the waves of pleasure wash over me. I’m breathing so very hard, and my legs tremble. I’m shaking all over.
Strol chuckles as he removes his hand. He licks my juices from his fingers. “You can keep driving.”
“No, we’re not done yet.”
I park the centuricmobile, and I shift over onto his lap. I’m not even sure how we do it because we both have our clothes on, but we manage to get his cock free from his pants and up my shorts, my panties shoved aside so he can be inside me. I rock back and forth, going up and down, squeezing my walls against him.
Now that I’ve had a taste of him again, I can’t stop, won’t stop, and I keep going, riding him, riding a crest of pleasure again and again. His hot com squirts inside me, but I keep going, delirious, taking everything that his cock will give me.
Taking everything he will give me.
His hands reach up, and he brushes my hair back, gently pulling me down. I expect the kiss to be as raw and passionate as our lovemaking, but that’s not the case.
Fuck. This is fucking, not lovemaking.
But the kiss? It’s tender and sweet, and fuck me, but it does make this seem to blur the line between fucking and making sweet, sensual love.
Fine. We’re having sex.
Whatever it is, whatever label I want to give it, it’s amazing, so very good. The beast inside me is very pleased by this latest development, and I don’t know if I’ll
