Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I came, the orgasm thundering through me. My legs scissored around him and my hands clutched his ass hard as I arched and spasmed. My breasts rubbed his chest and I heard him growl low in his throat. I shuddered and shook, riding the climax on and on, until I finally went limp.
JD was breathing hard. He reached down and cupped my cheek, then brushed back a lock of hair and kissed my sweat-damp forehead. As I came back down, it sank in that he hadn’t come, yet: that growl had been him holding himself back.
He let me recover for a moment and then he put his hands on my waist and gently lifted me, keeping himself inside me as he rolled over and turned, until he was sitting in the middle of the back seat and I was riding him. Gravity pulled me down and I groaned as I sank onto him.
He leaned right back in the seat, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. With my blouse and his shirt open, my breasts could stroke against his naked chest and I drew in my breath as my nipples dragged against his pecs.
His hands smoothed my hair back so that he could see all of me. Then, gazing into my eyes, he took my ass in his hands and lifted me, sliding me up his cock until the head of him almost popped free of me. I gasped, eyes wide, and my fingers played piano scales on his shoulders: I was still super-sensitive. Then he slowly pushed me back down and I inhaled as I took all of him.
I sat there for a moment with him rooted in me. I was still recovering, wasn’t sure I could go again so soon. But that taste he’d given me, that single, slow stroke up and down, had been too addictive. I began to move: at first, it was almost just rocking back and forth, just enough to make his cock shift inside me. But then it became a grinding in his lap and then I couldn’t resist: I shuffled my knees either side of his legs, braced my hands on his shoulders and pushed, lifting myself up…and then dropping myself down. God, it was incredible: the hot hardness of him so deep, and the way I could control it, setting the rhythm I needed. I began to fuck him, slow bounces that became faster and faster, another climax already starting to glow.
Because of the roof of the car, I had to press tight to him and hunch over, my mouth pressed to his ear. With every rise and fall of my hips, my nipples raked up and down his chest, the pleasure wrapping around the growing climax and cinching it tighter and tighter. I clung to him, writhing against him as I rode him, hands smoothing over the firm globes of his shoulders, knees squeezing against the hard muscles of his thighs, lost in the feel of him. And as I spiraled towards my peak, something happened. In the dark privacy of the car, pressed as tightly to him as I could be, I found the confidence I’d lost and some I’d never had. I forgot about being curvy, about being a mom, about pushing forty. I let go, panting out how good he felt, how much I needed him and how hard I wanted him to fuck me. And that finally took him beyond control. His hands closed on my hips and he began to move me, lifting me up and then pulling me down on him, while stabbing upwards with his hips. I began to circle my hips on him and the climax wound in on itself and shook, incandescent…
“God, JD, yes,” I moaned.
He pulled me down, impaling me on him, and we came together, the orgasm ripping through me as he groaned and shot in long, hot streams inside me.
I flopped against his chest, weak and shaky. He held me tight until our breathing had slowed. Then he gently lifted me, turning and repositioning us so that we were lying on our sides on the seat with him spooning me from behind. He wrapped his arms around me and we lay there in the darkness, together for good.
54
LORNA
We were half dozing when JD’s phone rang. He answered it sleepily, then cursed when he realized it was a video call. I scrambled to pull my blouse closed. Luckily, it was Cal who’d called, and he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of video calls, yet: all we could see was the ceiling and by the time he got the phone pointed at his face, I was decent.
“Sorry,” rumbled Cal when he saw JD’s open shirt. “We got the tattoo. Gabriel drew this from my description and he nailed it: this is exactly what I saw on the shooter’s neck.”