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He clenched the steering wheel, forcing himself to pay attention to the traffic.
Just as the light turned green, he heard a little moan.
“I want you to move those fingers in and out until I tell you to stop,” he told her.
He could see her hand moving under her skirt.
She kept at it until the next stoplight.
“Let me taste.”
Again the little intake of air. Then she pulled her hand from under her skirt and leaned over. He grasped her wrist with his hand and met her eyes as he slid her fingers into his mouth. She’d been doing it. The sweet taste of her pussy was like a drug. A very familiar, very addictive drug.
“This is so hot,” she told him.
The light turned green and she settled back into her seat and started to move her hand under her skirt again, but he stopped her with a hand on her thigh. “My turn. Spread your legs and lift your skirt.
She did. But when he glanced over, the skirt still covered everything but her thighs.
“Higher.”
She looked out the window. It was four-lane traffic here, and at the next stoplight, anyone pulling up next to them would be able to see into the truck if they looked over.
“But —”
“Lift it up.”
She took a deep breath. Then did.
His cock was so hard behind his zipper he felt actual discomfort. Beau shifted on the seat, trying to seek some relief. But there was none. He was thick and throbbing.
He cupped her, easing his middle finger into her pussy. She was hot and wet. She likely had been ever since the patio.
He teased her, not going too deep, making sure that he slid out and circled her clit as well.
She was panting by the time they pulled up to the next stoplight. Sure enough, there was a truck next to them. A man in his forties glanced over. Then looked again. Becca’s head was thrown back against the seat. Her eyes were closed. Her skirt was up and Beau’s hand was clearly underneath. The guy couldn’t actually see any intimate body parts with Beau’s hand there, but it was obvious what was going on.
Beau hoped that helped the man and his wife have some fun tonight when he got home.
Both trucks pulled away from the stoplight as it turned green and the man in the truck next to them seemed to be trying to keep pace. Beau smirked as he turned left at the next block, leaving the truck and a probably-horny stranger behind.
They pulled up in front of Becca’s apartment building.
He stopped the truck, threw it in park, and turned to face her, his hand still moving inside her. “How close are you?”
“So close,” came her breathless reply.
He worked her for another few seconds, feeling her pussy start to clench around his fingers. Then he pulled out.
Her eyes flew open. “No.”
“Upstairs. Now.”
four
Becca scrambledout of the truck, and he met her on the sidewalk. They walked quickly to the door, and she fumbled with her keys.
He took them from her, calmly inserted the key, and turned, pushing the door open and ushering her inside. They made their way to the elevator, and stepped on alone.
