Rock All Night(122)

“Uh-huh,” he grunted, and took his foot off the brake. We started down the road again, and passed far enough away from the guardhouse that no one could see us at all.

I kept stroking him, and he kept having little one-off contractions, his swollen head getting just a little bit bigger, and more pre-cum leaking out. I went slow as before, though – and held him even looser, just barely making contact with my fingers, letting his wetness be the sensual bond between his skin and mine.

“Take off your seatbelt and get closer,” he ordered, though his voice still sounded like a croak.

“Why?” I smiled, stroking him slowly up… letting my fingers and thumb expand over his huge head… then pausing… before slowly moving back down.

“Just do it,” he said, his voice ragged with desire.

I used my free hand to undo the buckle, then scooted over as far as I could. The car had bucket seats, so it wasn’t like I could get too close – but I apparently got close enough.

He reached over, pulled my blouse out of my skirt, then feverishly slid his hand between the waistline and my stomach. Then he pushed down further, into my bikini bottom.

I gasped as he slid through my landing strip, then found the wetness between my thighs. The tip of his middle finger began rubbing up and down over my hood, around my clit, slipping and sliding over my soaked flesh. I tried to keep enough presence of mind to continue massaging his cock, which strained and bucked in my hand – but I would invariably stop stroking as waves of pleasure and desire rolled over me, across me, through me. Then I would come to my senses and slide up and down his shaft again, until I was overcome by ecstasy once more.

The tip of his finger slid inside me – just a centimeter or two – and I moaned. Loud.

As soon as I did, he growled, “I have to f*ck you.”

“How… far to the island?” I gasped. It seemed like forever: the guardhouse had long since disappeared in the distance, and the road seemed to stretch on eternally between the salt flats. I didn’t know if I could wait that long. I wanted him inside me now.

“Fuck the island,” he said as he moved the wheel to the right, and suddenly we were rattling and bumping down the incline and through the scrub brush.

I screamed – this time from fright, not from pleasure – as we zoomed down the slope, then finally leveled off and hit the salt flats.

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, what are you doing?!” I screamed.

“Driving it like it’s stolen,” he grinned.

“Where are you going?!”

“Someplace private.”

“We can’t do this!”

“Yeah we can. I’m doing it.”

I looked behind us as the road receded in the distance. Behind us, our tires carved out parallel lines in the salt and sand.

“You can’t – unnnnhhhhhh,” I moaned as his wet finger slipped once, twice, three times over my swollen clit. When my thighs had stopped quivering, I snapped, “That’s not fair!”

“You can go back to what you were doing any time you want.”

“You’re going to – unnnhhh – ” (more wet firmness sliding over my clit) “ – get us arrested!”

“Do you see any cops?”

I looked back behind us. The road was no longer visible, much less any cars.

“…no…”

I could barely speak, let alone think, he was stroking me so wetly, so softly, underneath my bikini bottom.

“Then we’re good.”

“…they could still see our tracks… somebody could tell the park ranger…”

“Then we’re going to have to hurry, aren’t we?”

“Hurry what?”

“Fucking each other’s brains out,” he growled.

I know I said before that I missed tenderness and sensuality…

…but right then, f*cking his brains out sounded like the most wonderful thing in the universe.

Still, though, my law-abiding terror wouldn’t let up.

“Well, somebody will see us! Oh God…” (more slipping and sliding over my clit)

“I didn’t see anybody for miles.”

“But… but…”

I stopped talking and just whimpered as he stroked me, slid inside me, caressed me, made my * throb with need. “…you’re not playing fair…”

“I never said I did.”

“…I can’t think when you’re doing that…”

“So quit thinking.”

As he kept making me shudder with ecstasy, I looked down at his pants. His cock was still jutting straight up… it looked so gorgeous… so big and thick and pink…

So he doesn’t care about getting arrested?

Fine. Neither do I.

I reached down and started stroking him again. Slowly. Then a little faster. Feeling how thick he was in my hand, between my fingers.

“Oh God,” he groaned, and I felt his fingers quiver over my clit.

I leaned over and whispered in his ear:

“When are you going to f*ck my brains out?”

“Now,” he grunted, and slowed the car to a stop.

Then he reached over, grabbed my waist, and hauled me like a rag doll through the air, me shrieking and giggling, until I was straddled on top of him.