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The words from my lips were a whisper and a prayer. “Amen.”
Just like that, I was leaning across the seat of the truck and kissing Phoebe.
She exhaled onto my lips, releasing all the tension that had been building between us. At long last, we’d stop resisting. The relaxation alone could have given me an orgasm.
But besides finally breaking down the wall, there was nothing ‘relaxed’ about this kiss. No, on the contrary, we were devouring each other as though we were one another’s final meal. I slipped my tongue into her mouth and she responded in kind, and suddenly, we were locked in a battle for oral supremacy. I bit her bottom lip. She moaned. I had won the battle.
We were stretched awkwardly across the bench, trying to find some common ground. Annoyed with this mild barrier, I scooted into the middle, and then in one swift tug, pulled her onto my lap.
“You’re so hard,” she giggled before planting some kisses on my neck.
“In fairness, that’s your fault.”
I tilted my pelvis up and Phoebe ground against it. My cock — though still in my jeans — was pressed up against her underwear. The dress had floated up and away, to somewhere around Phoebe’s hips. Even through the denim, I could feel how wet she was.
My hand wrapped in her hair, pulling at the brown strands before moving down to her upper back, a relatively slim expanse. Her shoulder blades were moving as she wrapped and rewrapped her arms around me, trying to pull herself ever closer.
Our kiss deepened, grew more complex, as if there were new notes of love and arousal brimming between us. We had waited less than twenty-four hours to touch one another, and yet, that felt like a day too long. I had been languishing in a desert for Phoebe’s affection.
And then her hands were ripping off my T-shirt and I could think of nothing — not the past, not the future. Just the here and now.
“God, you’re ripped,” she murmured, her fingers greedily exploring my chest, testing the divots of my abs and pecs.
“It’s so I can do this.”
In one instant, I’d flipped her over onto the seat and slid down until I was kneeling on the floor mat. She grinned with excitement as I spread her legs apart, slowly trailing my hands up her thighs.
“Take off your dress,” I ordered, gazing up at her from the floor of the cab, my face between her creamy knees.
She obliged, tearing the fabric off in one fell swoop.
Much to my delight, Phoebe wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples were a deep pink that stood in stark contrast to the extreme paleness of her breast. It was as though they were the remainder of a lipsticked-kiss from an angel. They were hard as rocks and she was fingering them needily, as though grasping for as much pleasure as possible. How had I been granted this privilege of getting to look upon such a beautiful woman?
She licked her lips. “Do you like what you see?”
In response, I merely growled and tugged her panties down, slipping them past her knees until they pooled in front of me, ringing her ankles.
“I love it so much,” I replied, “that I absolutely must taste it.”
Phoebe exhaled and slid further and further down the seat so that her ass was hanging off, presenting her pussy like a meal before me. It was a slightly deeper pink than her nipples, and absolutely dripping. I had, I knew, been picturing this pleasure palace since I saw first her.
I lazily ran a hand up her thigh to her breast, where I pinched that rosy nipple which had been tantalizing me. Phoebe clutched the leather of the seat, her fingernails clawing for support.
“Oh my God,” she moaned. “Please, Carter, don’t tease me.”
I dove my head to that sweet treasure trove, then pulled back, making her wait.
“Carter!”
Phoebe was writhing in the seat now, taking fingers to her own pussy, beginning to touch herself. Lord, I could’ve sat there ‘til the end of time, just watching that woman give herself pleasure. There was an equal mix of yearning and mastery, a familiarity with her own body that I could only hope to achieve through years of study.
“Carter,” she gasped, “if you won’t do it, I’ll make myself come.”
I saw the muscles in her thighs and arm tensing, and knew that she was telling me the truth. My willpower to tantalize her through withholding finally dropped. I moved my head forward the last few inches, and my tongue found her clit.
She tilted her head back and screamed with joy.
“Oh yes, oh yes!” she cried, her hips pressing into my mouth.
I flicked my tongue against her clitoris. It was salty, like fresh seawater, and it tasted like raw sex. I licked again. Then again and again and again, stroking Phoebe with a frenzy I didn’t even know I possessed. Her eyes were clamped shut, and inversely, her mouth was popped open in a perfect ‘O.’
