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She's not asking me to stop, though. She's eyeing my crotch.
"Can I..."
I smirk.
"What do you want, Emilia?"
"I want to see you."
"Can you be a little more specific?" I ask with a grin. "Because I feel like you're already seeing me right now." I gesture to myself and she bites her lips.
"You know what I mean.
"I'm afraid I don't."
"Your dick," she blurts out. "I want to see your dick."
I lean in close and lick her ear.
"Princess, you can see my dick anytime you fucking want. Take it out. It's ready for you."
She doesn't wait. She reaches for my jeans and undoes the top button. Then she pulls down the zipper and reaches in for my cock. Awkwardly and with a bit of fumbling, she pulls it out.
Then she just looks at it.
"Wow," she whispers.
"You can touch me, baby. You aren't going to hurt me," I tell her. She's clenching and unclenching her fists, as though she wants to touch me, but she's nervous about accidentally hurting me.
She can't possibly hurt me.
Not at all.
Emilia reaches out bravely and starts to stroke me and oh, it's the most fantastic fucking feeling in the world.
"How's that?" She asks after a few strokes.
"You can touch me a little harder," I tell her. "You won't hurt me."
"Are you sure?" She bites her lip.
I laugh.
"If it can survive me rubbing one out, I'm pretty sure it can survive your delicate little hands."
Then it's my turn to gasp because she reaches for me and fists my cock tightly, stroking me, and this time, she doesn't hold back.
Shit.
I close my eyes and lean back in the seat, completely lost in the morning. I've never been the biggest fan of handjobs, but with the way Emilia is rubbing me, I may just be a convert. She strokes me harder and faster and soon, I’m on the edge of coming.
I grab her wrist, stopping her, and I look over at her, totally pained.
“Stop,” I whisper.
“But you haven’t come,” she says, as though it’s the most plain thing in the world. Apparently, it’s obvious that I’m close.
“I don’t want to make a mess,” I tell her.
