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Teen stories, the Jag lady - sex story


Teen stories, the Jag lady



The Sundollars Coffee chain liked to put up signs touting how the Wall Street Journal and several other business-oriented publications considered them one of the world's best employers to work for. Mark Grogan was not exactly sure what factors these publications used in order to make this determination but he was pretty sure they had never asked the peons who actually worked the counters. Granted, Sundollars was a few steps above the fast food sweatshops he did time in back in high school - the pace was a little slower and the pay was a little better - but they did not offer him medical or dental benefits, they did not match funds for the 401k, and the only real opportunity for advancement was to assistant manager, which meant he would be salaried and forced to come in far beyond his normal working hours with no additional hourly pay. He had been there for almost two years now and could not quite bring himself to accept that promotion though they repeated the offer at least once every quarter. Working at Sundollars was a McJob, just like any other. It was a means to get him through college and, as far as that went, it fit the bill rather nicely. He came in four mornings a week at 6:00 AM and worked until 10:30, which left him just enough time to get to the California State University at Heritage Campus where he was carrying eighteen units a semester towards a Criminal Justice degree.

One of the interesting things about working at Sundollars was the regular customers. Since they were dealing in what was, after all, a legal addictive drug, the same people came in every day at about the same time. Most of them were bleary-eyed and anxious to get their morning fix. The Sundollars employees who worked the same shift for any length of time got to know them after awhile - at least as far as first names and choice of drinks went. An endless game between them was speculation on the other, hidden details of their customers' lives.

It was this game that Mark and Cindy Smith, the eighteen year old counter girl he had started dating a few weeks ago, were playing one morning during the 7 to 8 AM rush.

"Here comes Stan and Marla," Cindy whispered to him as they stood side by side behind the counter. Mark was taking orders and Cindy was filling them, operating the espresso and milk machine with the absent expertise that comes with repetition.

Mark looked up and saw the couple she was referring to just parking their cars outside. Stan was a straight coffee man. He was a nerdy-looking guy with a thin mustache and thick, horned rim glasses. He drove a mini-van full of car seats and had a gold wedding band on his left ring finger. Marla was a frappachino girl. She was young, petite, and liked to dress in short skirts and tight tops. She drove a Mustang and had no wedding or engagement ring. As was usually the case, they parked side by side, arriving within seconds of each other, and then met near the rear of their vehicles for several seconds of tight hugging, intensive kissing, and whispered words of love and endearment.

"They're gonna get caught one of these days," Mark whispered back. "Mark my words. Someone who knows one or the other of them will just happen by and see them making out and the next thing you know, someone will call his wife."

"You don't know that they're having an affair," Cindy protested. "Maybe they're actually married to each other and she just lost her ring or something."

Mark gave her the look that one gives a hopelessly naive person - which, he was coming to find out, she actually was. "Have you ever seen married people making out in public like that? Every day?"

"Well... no," she admitted. "But maybe they're just really in love. It can happen." She looked around, making sure no customers were in earshot. "After all, you make out with me in public, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," he confirmed, and that was true. They had had an extended session of tongue-lashing and finger groping just the previous night while at the movies. Of course, he had then gone home with a raging case of blue balls since she had been unwilling to progress their passion to the point of actually allowing him to orgasm in some way, shape, or form. "But we're not married. By the time you get married, you've gotten all of your making out in public out of your system.

"Is that so?" she said, half glaring, half joking. "Is that based on the wisdom you've acquired in your twenty years of life and love?"

"Maybe you're right," he conceded, though he didn't think so at all. He was just trying to head off an argument before she could get one started. It was true he didn't have all that much experience with the opposite sex, but he had enough. He had been laid ten or fifteen times with four different girls since that first time with Allison Michaels on his parent's couch when he was sixteen. If there was one thing he'd learned it was that sex was overrated. Sure, nailing a girl felt better than jacking off, but only barely. It was certainly not the sublime, exquisite experience that everyone liked to make it out to be.

Stan and Marla came in and ordered their respective drinks. Once delivered, they sat at one of the tables near the door where they would spend the next fifteen minutes holding hands and making googly eyes at each other. Coming in right behind them was Doreen, known in conversation as the flower lady. She was an eccentric older lady, perhaps fifty years old, who always arrived on foot carrying a bouquet of fresh cut daisies with her. She wore black lipstick, black fingernail polish, and talked to no one except to give her order each morning. Her drink of choice was house coffee with two shots of espresso in it - enough caffeine to wake the dead. Both Cindy and Mark suspected she was a schizophrenic being kept under control with medication.

"The usual, Doreen?" Mark asked her as she approached the counter.

"Yes," she mumbled, her voice barely audible, her head nodding rapidly.

While Cindy went about the task of revving up the already potent house brew into something that would power an internal combustion engine, Mark caught a flash of silver as a long, stylish car pulled up out front - a Jaguar XK8 convertible, to be exact. It was another regular. Taya, the Jag Lady.

Taya came in every morning within five minutes of 7:30. She was around forty years old, Mark guessed, well outside the range of what he usually looked at with an eye geared towards judging physical attractiveness - after all, his own mother was only forty-one - but there was no denying that Taya was something to look at. Short and compact, but well built, she sported a trim, firm-looking body equipped with an impressive set of natural-looking breasts that jiggled and bounced in a most appetizing way with each step she took. Her hair was light brown, and always fashionably styled; her face was smooth and unlined, despite her years. She enjoyed dressing in expensive yet revealing clothing. Her shirts and sweaters were designed to show off her smooth stomach with the diamond stud in her navel, and to accent her large boobs. She was always friendly and polite to the Sundollars employees who took her order and prepared her drink of choice each morning, but there was an air about her that she could be unpleasant if crossed, an unspoken demand for respect she thought was due her.

Mark's impression of her was that she was rich of course. That much was obvious by the fact that she drove a $75,000 car. Based on the wedding ring she had on her left hand - a ring containing a diamond of at least three carats - he knew she was married. He knew she had a job of some sort since she showed up at 7:30 AM each weekday morning. Beyond that, however, his impressions were mere speculation. He figured her husband was probably much older than her and the primary source of her considerable wealth. He also figured she worked at something she enjoyed for the enjoyment aspect in and of itself, instead of for financial reasons. He also knew he spent a lot more time speculating about her than he did any of his other customers. Why? He knew not. Maybe it was her car, which he would just love to drive on the open road somewhere. Or maybe it was her self-assured, experienced attitude. He had never really been attracted to older women - not since his junior high school days when he'd had the hots for Ms. Murchison, his English teacher - but there was something about Taya that seemed to call to him. Though he would never admit it to anyone, would barely even admit it to himself, more than one masturbation session in his bed late at night had been conducted with her face, her body, her breasts in mind.

Today she was wearing a pair of low-riding black slacks and a low-cut spaghetti strap top. Her impressive cleavage was displayed perhaps a little more than was usual and, as she raised her arms up to remove her purse from around her shoulder, the bottom of the top rode up, giving a brief flash of her sexy belly. Mark could not help but ogle a bit as she approached the counter.

"Good morning, Taya," he greeted, forcing himself to drag his eyes to her face. "A large, no whip mocha?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, a strange smirk on her face as she dug out a ten-dollar bill to pay for her purchase.

He wrote her name on one of the paper cups and set it next to Cindy. "Large no whip mocha for Taya," he told her.

Taya paid for her purchase, received her change, and then went to the corner of the room to await her order. While she waited, her eyes seemed to be taking in Mark's form a little more than usual. Was it just his imagination? And if not, what was the meaning of it? Before he could speculate too much on this subject, another regular came in - John, a businessman who was perpetually on his cellular phone. While Mark took John's order and rung him up, Cindy handed Taya her mocha. She thanked Cindy politely and headed for the door. As she pulled out in her silver Jag, Mark took one last look at her and then let her out of his head for the rest of the day.

-------

On the following Friday night, Cindy let him fuck her. His parents were out of town for the weekend, and had taken his younger sister with them. He brought Cindy over and put the latest new-release chick-flick on the DVD player. It had the desired effect and soon they were making out on the couch. Gradually his hand worked its way under her blouse onto her firm, delectable teenaged tits. That led to the removal of her shirt and his mouth upon her nipples. Soon after that, he was kissing his way down her stomach, hoping to get his lips on her blonde vulva. She allowed him to open her pants but the moment he made a move to pull them down she stopped him.

"Let's go up to your bedroom," she suggested.

They went up and she undressed demurely, baring herself and lying on his bed. She was as beautiful as he'd always imagined she would be and his own clothes soon joined hers in a heap on the floor. He tried again to put his face between her legs but she pushed him away.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. Of course he had a condom. He had an entire fucking box of them in his nightstand in addition to the two he carried in his wallet.

"Put it on," she demanded. "Do it to me."

"Don't you want me to... you know... kiss you... down there?"

"No," she said, feigning uncontrolled passion and doing a poor job of it. "Just do it to me. I want it."

He did it to her, rolling the condom on his hard-on and climbing atop her in the missionary position. She spread her legs for him and he slid inside. She was tight and wet and the friction was enjoyable as he thrust within her, but it was nothing spectacular. She hardly moved during the whole thing. She hardly made a sound. Her hands stroked his back a little, but that was about it. He pounded away at her for nearly ten minutes before having a weak, semi-satisfying orgasm and filling the condom with his sperm. By the time he returned from flushing it, she was already dressed again.

"That was great," she told him, checking her make-up in the mirror. "Let's go watch the rest of the movie now."

-------

The following Monday Mark was putting the wire chairs and portable tables on the patio outside Sundollars when the silver Jag pulled up. Taya stepped out, this time wearing a pair of turquoise shorts and a matching spaghetti-strap top. As usual, her impressive breasts were practically falling out.

"Good morning, Taya," he greeted, his eyes flitting between her bare legs and her bare cleavage before settling on her face.

"Yes it is," she told him. "A beautiful morning. Are you working hard?"

"Always," he assured her.

She smiled, her eyes seeming to linger on him a little longer than usual, and then she turned and went inside. While she was getting her mocha, he pulled another table into position and arranged the chairs next to it. As he finished this task, he found himself standing near the front of Taya's car. He was close enough that he could hear the ticking of the cooling engine and feel the heat radiating from it. This was the closest he had ever been to her car, and he took a moment to admire it. The silver paint was glossy, shining with the brilliance that only a once-a-week coat of wax could produce. There was not so much as a water drop visible, neither on the paint nor on the windshield, nor even the trademark hood ornament. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch it, to feel its smoothness, to palpate this symbol of class and success.

"You like my car, do you?" a voice from behind him enquired.

Startled, he turned around to find himself looking into Taya's face. There was a look of amusement there. "Uh... yeah," he said. "I hope you don't mind me checking it out. It's very nice."

"I don't mind at all," she said, with just a hint of teasing in her eyes. "I spend a lot of time keeping it looking nice just so young handsome guys like yourself will check it out. You know what I mean?"

"Uh... yeah," he said slowly. There seemed to be a double meaning to her words but he wasn't experienced enough with the opposite sex to be sure.

"You like to drive?" she asked him.

"Drive? Uh... yeah, sure."

"You ever drive anything like this before?"

He shook his head. "This is the closest I've ever even been to one," he told her.

"Well I highly recommend it," she said, a pouty smile forming on her lips. "You haven't driven until you've slipped into something like this, know what I mean?"

"Uh... yeah," he said doubtfully. She hadn't even looked at the car when she'd said that. It almost seemed like she was talking about... well, about something else entirely.

She pulled her keys out and clicked the unlock button. "You have a nice day now," she told him saucily. With that, she opened up the car door. As she leaned in to set her coffee down in the holder between the seats, the rear of her shorts rode up considerably, allowing him a brief glimpse of the bottom of her ass cheeks. They were smooth and sexy -looking, with no tan lines visible. She seemed to hold the position longer than was necessary and then finally slipped into the car. She fired it up, and backed out into the parking lot. With one last wave, one last mysterious smile, she drove away to wherever it was she went each day.

-------

Over the next two weeks, Mark fucked Cindy two more times. Once in the back of his car after a Saturday night date, and once at Cindy's house while her parents were at work. In both instances, it was pretty much the same as the first time. They made out, groped each other for a bit, and then he put a condom on and climbed aboard, thrusting within her barely-moving body until he came. His conviction that sex was the most overrated thing on the planet continued to grow.

-------

As luck would have it, Taya showed up again one morning just as he was putting the patio furniture out for the day. On this day, she was wearing a short skirt that came to mid thigh, and the inevitable spaghetti strap top. Her breasts, as usual, were practically falling out. She gave him her smile as she approached him but instead of walking by, she stopped to talk.

"Your turn in the barrel, huh?" she asked, nodding at the assortment of patio furniture.

"Oh, I don't mind," he replied. "It gives me a chance to get outside for a little bit, to get away from the register."

"And to flex those strong muscles?" she asked, a glint in her eye.

"Uh... yeah, I suppose," he answered.

She glanced over at her car for a moment. "I just had it waxed yesterday," she said.

"Did you?"

"Uh huh," she affirmed. "It's nice and smooth now, silky even. I think it looks sexy like that, you know what I mean?"

"Uh... yeah," he said slowly. "I guess I do." Like before, he had the strange feeling that she was not really talking about her car.

"Maybe you'd like to give it a try," she suggested.

He swallowed nervously. "Give it a try?"

She nodded. "You want to drive it? I'll let you."

"You'd let me... uh... drive it? Your car?"

She giggled a little. "You bet," she said. "You look like someone who would really appreciate slipping into a Jag. What do you say? What time to you get off?"

"Uh... well, at 10:30," he told her. Was she really offering to let him drive her car?

She stepped closer to him and reached in her purse. She pulled out a business card and slipped it into the pocket of his Sundollars apron. "This is my boutique," she said. "Come by after you get off work and we'll take a little spin."

His head was reeling now. Just what was going on here? "Uh... well, I'd love to," he said. "But I have to go to school after I get off work. I have an 11:00 class over at the..."

"Skip it today," she told him, reaching out with her finger and tweaking his nose. "I think you'll learn more with me."

Before he had a chance to reply to her, she turned and went inside without glancing back. He stared after her for a moment, trying to figure out if she was talking about what he thought she was talking about. He reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out the business card. It was expensive looking, printed in gold calligraphy on cream-colored paper. TAYA'S BOUTIQUE it read. TASTEFUL YET EYE-CATCHING FASHIONS FOR ALL OCCASIONS. TAYA WITHERSPOON - PROPRIETOR. Below this was a phone number and web address. Below that was the address. Mark recognized it as being in one of the more ritzy shopping malls in Lemon Hill.

He put the business card back in his apron and then went to grab another table. His mind continued to turn over what had just happened. She wanted him to skip school and meet her at her boutique. Why? What was in it for her? Was it really just to drive her car? Or was there another reason? To his surprise, he found himself getting erect beneath his slacks as he considered the possibility that there might be another reason. The idea that Taya might be attracted to him, that she might want to do things to him, was exciting in a way that thoughts of Cindy could not even begin to compete with. As to why this should be, he could not even begin to guess.

You're dreaming, a part of his mind whispered to him in disgust. You don't really think she's inviting you over so she can fuck you? Do you? I mean, think about it. She's a high-class rich chick, she's married, and she's old enough to be your mother. Do you really think there's anything about a Sundollars employee that she would be the least bit interested in? She's just taking pity on you because she's seen you ogling her car so many times.

"That has to be it," he whispered aloud. "She's taking pity on me. What else could it be?"

She emerged from inside a few minutes later, mocha in hand. She deliberately altered her path to pass close to Mark.

"I'll see you around 10:45," she told him. It was not a question. It was a command.

"Uh... listen... uh, Taya," he started.

She didn't allow him to finish. "Be ready for some serious driving," she told him. "And one other thing - I wouldn't mention this to your little girlfriend in there if I were you. She probably wouldn't understand."

While Mark gaped at her, speechless, she licked her lips, slowly and deliberately. With that she clicked her alarm button and walked to her car. Once again, she made a big show of bending over, allowing her skirt to ride up on her legs. Finally, she got inside. She didn't look at him as she drove away.

-------

He mentioned nothing to Cindy, as advised. Though he was not quite sure how Taya even knew there was anything going on between the two of them, and though he was still half convinced that she really just wanted to let him drive her car, it seemed prudent advice nonetheless. Cindy was acting weird lately. Ever since she they had begun to screw each other she had become possessive of him, as if that gave her the right to know what he was doing every minute of every day, to know who he was with, and what their relationship was. In short, she was getting clingy to the point of intolerance. She was calling him six and seven times a day and becoming infuriated if she couldn't get hold of him. He was already starting to turn the thoughts of breaking up through his head.

At 10:30, they entered the parking lot together, and headed for their separate cars. They had removed their Sundollars aprons and carried them in their hands. They paused at Cindy's Saturn, told each other goodbye, and exchanged chaste kisses.

"Have fun in school today," she told him. "And stay away from those co-eds."

"Right," he said, biting back his annoyance. "And you do the same."

She dutifully laughed at his lame joke, gave him one more passionless kiss on the lips, and then climbed behind the wheel. A moment later she was off, heading for Heritage Community College and the load of afternoon classes she carried there.

He walked to his own car-a six-year-old Honda Civic-and climbed inside. He looked in the back seat, where his backpack and his three hundred dollars worth of books were stored. He really should head off to class. There was test scheduled in his biology elective, and there would more than likely be a pop-quiz in one of his Criminal Justice classes. Cutting school was something he had done on occasion in high school but it was not something he wanted to do in his second year of college. Not with all the money his parents were spending on sending him there.

He debated with himself for the better part of a minute, while his engine warmed up and the air-conditioning system blew a blast of tepid air at his face. Finally, he reached in the pocket of his crumpled up apron on the passenger seat and pulled out Taya's card. He looked at the address again and then set the card down in the ashtray. He backed out of his spot and then headed for the street. A left turn would take him towards the freeway and downtown Heritage, where CSUH was located. A right turn would take him toward the fashionable section of Lemon Hill and the boutique owned by Taya. He hardly hesitated as he turned right and put on the speed.

-------

Taya's Boutique was near the back of what was essentially a high-class strip mall. The parking lot was full of late-model luxury cars and huge SUVs. Mark's battered Honda looked very out of place. He slid it into a slot across from a hair salon where a simple trim would probably cost him a day's wages. He walked to the entrance of the boutique, and saw the Jaguar parked directly in front. He opened the glass door, and stepped hesitantly into a shop that probably few men had been in before.

The shop was not very large, only slightly larger than your average convenience store in square footage. Most of it was taken up by a tastefully decorated display area stuffed with racks of feminine clothing of all shapes, sizes, and function. A few mannequins sat here and there, displaying fashions similar to what Taya habitually wore. Near the back was the entrance to a fitting room and another entrance that led to an employees-only area. There were two smartly dressed women standing near one of the racks of blouses. Both were in their mid-thirties, and quite attractive. It was obvious that one of them was a saleswoman and the other was a customer, but Mark was unable to tell which was which. Taya herself was sitting behind the register leafing through a fashion magazine. She looked up and smiled as he entered.

"Well, hello there," she told him. "I'm glad you decided to accept my offer."

"Uh... well... yeah, you know," Mark said and then mentally cursed himself for his lameness.

Taya didn't seem to mind though. "You're so cute when you're shy," she told him. She put away her magazine, stood up, grabbed her leather purse and came around the counter. "You ready to have some fun?" she asked him, her eyes gazing at him meaningfully.

"Uh... yeah. I guess I am," he said.

"That's the spirit," she said, reaching into her purse. She pulled out a key ring and handed it to him. "Shall we go?"

"Sure," he said, taking the ring.

"Liz?" Taya said, looking towards the two women. The younger of the two looked up at her. "I'm heading out now. You'll be okay?"

"You bet, Taya," Liz replied, her eyes unabashedly looking Mark up and down. "You have yourself a good time."

"I always do," Taya said. "I always do." She turned back to Mark. "Shall we go?"

They went. Mark, remembering his manners, opened the door of the boutique for her and then, after some fumbling with the alarm button, got the Jag unlocked. He walked to the passenger side and opened the door here for her as well.

"Thank you," she said, sliding perhaps a bit closer to his body than was necessary, close enough so he could smell her perfume. She sat down demurely, her skirt riding up considerably on her upper thighs. He could not help but look down and admire what he saw. She saw him looking and smiled up at him. "You like my skirt?" she asked.

He swallowed nervously. Never in his life had he encountered a woman so flirtatious and forward. Just what was going to happen here? "Uh... yeah, it's very nice," he said slowly.

"Nothing but the best," she said, and then closed her door.

He took a few deep breaths, and then went around to the driver's door and opened it. He slid into the leather seat and found it extremely cramped for his long legs. He reached down between his legs, searching for the handle that adjusted the seat backwards. Taya put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's electric," she told him. "Start the engine up and then you can adjust it any way you want."

With hands that were trembling ever so slightly, he put the key in the ignition and started it up. It caught immediately, with a roar of finely engineered power. The tachometer jumped up and then settled at idle position. Before he could even begin to search for the seat controls, Taya twisted in her chair and leaned over him, grabbing his left hand.

"Here," she said softly. "Let me show you where it's at."

He was too flabbergasted to even answer. In the position she was in now he could see almost completely up her skirt, was only kept from seeing her crotch by the fact that her legs were closed. At the same time she was leaning over in such a way that her cleavage was practically in his face. He could see the entire tops of her breasts, could see the gap between them. Her perfume was in his nose again, adding to the excitement. She leaned forward even more, so her breasts were actually against his shoulder. Her hand gently guided his to a bank of switches and dials on the left side of his chair.

"Right there," she whispered, practically in his ear, her voice dripping with innuendo. "Those are the buttons you want to push."

"Th... th... thanks," he stuttered, feeling his erection unfolding in his pants. The possibility that she was simply going to let him drive her around seemed a ridiculous one now.

She let go of his hand and resumed the normal seating position. There was a teasing smile on her face. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself, and then began to play with the buttons. It only took him a few seconds before he figured out how to move the seat back and down.

"Comfy?" Taya asked him once this was done.

"Yeah," he said.

"Good. Now put it in gear and lets get it on, shall we?"

"Right," he said, feeling his cock take another lurch in his pants. "Let's get it on."

He backed out and headed towards the main street. She told him to turn right and head for Highway 99, which was about twelve blocks down.

"We'll get you out on the freeway first," she said. "That way you can go fast and get it out of your system. I know you youngsters like to go fast when you get your hands on something like this, right?"

"Uh... yeah, I guess we do," he said.

He was only able to drive slowly in the dense, late-morning traffic so he wasn't able to get much of a feel for the Jag at first. He could, however, sense the power that was waiting for him when he accelerated, could sense the handling the machine was capable of. As they stopped and started through traffic, as they waited at lights, Taya looked at him almost hungrily.

"Your little girlfriend," she said. "She thinks you went to school today?"

"Yes," Mark replied. "Like you said, I don't she would've been too happy about... about this."

"A little possessive, is she?"

"You could say that," he said.

"Is she good in bed?"

Mark nearly choked. "Jeez, Taya," he sputtered. "That's kind of a personal question, isn't it?"

"I suppose," she said with a shrug. "But then I'm letting you drive my car so that means you have to answer my personal questions."

"It does?"

"It does," she said. "At least if you want to drive it the way its supposed to be driven. So let's have it. Is she any good?"

"No," he answered. "Not really."

"Just kind of lays there, does she?"

"Yeah," he said, glancing over at her.

"She's young and inexperienced," Taya said. "But then, so are you, right?"

"I've had my share," Mark said toughly, as if he was out scoring every weekend.

"Yes, I'm sure you're a man of the world, aren't you?" she asked. "We're at the freeway now. Head north."

"North?" he asked, raising his eyebrows a bit. Northbound Highway 99 led out of town, into the vast agricultural lands that made up most of the Sacramento Valley.

"North," she confirmed. "You want to go fast, don't you?"

He did not answer. He was unsure of the rules of the game. But he took the northbound onramp. It was here that he first got a taste of the Jag's power. As he accelerated to merge he felt himself pushed backward in the leather chair, saw the speedometer swing smoothly upward at a rate his Civic could only dream about. The engine purred with power, still only hinting at what it was capable of.

"I see you like it," Taya said as he settled into the number two lane. "Just cruise until we get out in the boonies. Then we'll see what you really got."

"Okay," Mark mumbled, half terrified and half excited.

Taya continued to chat at him as they went further and further north, passing out of Lemon Hill and into Gardenia. Her words continued to drip with thinly veiled sexual innuendo, mostly references that seemed to be about the car but really weren't. The traffic slowly thinned out, mile by mile, exit by exit, and the number of lanes steadily decreased. Finally, about fifteen minutes after entering the onramp, they were completely out of the city and into the country. The freeway was now only two lanes each way and the surrounding landscape was nothing but rice fields and tomato fields as far as the eye could see.

"Okay," Taya said. "Let's do it." Her hand dropped to his thigh.



-------

Part 2


"Do it?" he asked nervously.

"Let's go fast. Step on it. Get this thing moving."

"Uh... how fast should I go?"

"As fast as you can," she said. "Put your foot down, lover. Get this car moving."

He looked down at the speedometer and saw he was already traveling at 70 mph, 5 mph faster than the posted speed limit. Nervously he pushed his foot down a little and brought them up to 78 mph, which was about as fast as his poor Civic could go. The engine in the Jag hardly seemed to be turning at all.

"Oh come on, now," Taya scolded playfully. "I didn't bring you out here for this shit. Put that thing down."

"Uh... well... how far?" he asked.

She slid her hand up and down his leg a few times. "All the way," she said.

"Uh... all the way?"

"All the way," she repeated.

"But... but... what about the cops? What if..."

"Don't worry about cops," she told him. "There are only two highway patrolmen covering the area between Heritage and Redding. Chances are, we won't even see them. And if, by some small chance, we do, or rather they see us, you still don't have to worry. My husband is the Honorable Justin Witherspoon, Superior Court Judge for the past 25 years in this district. No cop would dare write you up if you're with me."

"Really?" he asked.

She leaned close to him, so her breasts were pushing into his arm once again, so her lips were up against his ear. "Really," she whispered. "Now step on it. All the way, baby. All the way."

Slowly he pushed his foot down on the accelerator, wondering as he did so if her husband really had the pull with the cops that she claimed. He certainly didn't want a speeding ticket on his record. As a twenty-year-old single male, his car insurance was already outrageous even with a clean driving record. Acquiring an excessive speed ticket would send it into the stratosphere. And then there was the future background check he would have to undergo when he made his entry into law enforcement. He had heard that every little speeding ticket or minor infraction would have to be explained. He didn't relish the thought of having to tell a background detective why he had been barreling down Highway 99 with a judge's wife sitting next to him.

But these thoughts were pushed to the back of his head as he felt the smooth acceleration of the Jag, as he heard the purr of the engine begin to roar with horsepower. They were now flying down the fast lane, the white lines down the middle of the roadway a blur, the wind roaring outside.

"That's the way," Taya said, her voice excited now, almost dripping with it, her hand squeezing higher on his leg.

He glanced down at the speedometer and saw he was moving just a hair over 100 mph, faster than he'd ever driven anything before. This was invigorating, as was the hand squeezing his thigh, but his common sense tried to kick in and restrain him. He eased up on the accelerator, trying to peg the needle exactly at 100.

"No," Taya said, her hand coming off his thigh. "Don't slow down. Go faster!"

"But..."

"No buts," she scolded. "All the way, baby. All the way!"

Obediently, his common sense retreated into its hole. He let his foot go down again, this time to the floor. The engine began to scream louder, the wind to rush with even greater force. He began to pass the other cars in the right hand lane, zipping past them as if they were standing still. When the acceleration finally leveled out he looked down at the speedometer and saw it was now at 136 mph. That was well beyond a normal speeding ticket. If he were pulled over for going this fast he would go to jail on a reckless driving charge. And, with such a charge, he could kiss any chance of working for a law enforcement agency goodbye. This was madness, insanity. He needed to stop this immediately.

"Yeah, baby," Taya sighed next to him, squirming in her seat now. "That's the way to do it."

He couldn't bring himself to stop. He kept the accelerator firmly on the floor. Another car was in front of him, traveling in the fast lane, but only about 80 or so. He came up behind it rapidly. He changed lanes and shot by it on the right, catching a glimpse of the startled driver's face before cutting back into the fast lane just in time to avoid a big rig. He was exhilarated beyond description, feeling like a racecar driver in the Indy 500, so exhilarated he nearly forgot about Taya and her squirming. At least until she spoke again.

"This is making me so hot," she said. "Speed makes me horny."

"It... it does?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered, leaning back in her seat. "Let me show you." She took his right hand in hers, pulling it from the steering wheel. He thought about jerking it back. After all, taking a hand off the wheel at 136 mph seemed an unwise thing to do. But he didn't, not when he realized she was pulling that hand downward, towards her legs.

"Taya?" he whispered. "What are you... are you... doing?"

"Letting you feel how horny you're making me," she cooed.

She put his hand high on her upper thigh, so his fingers were touching the silky skin on the inside. He could tell that her legs were spread wide, that her skirt was pulled up. She pulled his hand higher, until the fingers were on her crotch. He found she was not wearing any panties. He felt slick wetness, almost hot to the touch. She was bare of hair, her lips swollen, juicy, begging to be touched and penetrated.

"Oh my God," he muttered, letting his fingers glide up and down, smearing her juices around, probing between her lips. His cock, which had been semi-hard for the past ten minutes, now solidified into a turgid, almost painful mass. He turned his head to look at her, needing to see what he was touching, the pose she was in. But he only got the quickest of glances before she stopped him.

"Eyes on the road," she barked. "Remember how fast we're going."

He jerked his eyes forward again, just in time to see another slowpoke tooling along in the fast lane ahead. He jerked the wheel slightly to the right, the lane change not nearly as smooth as his first, but effective enough. The car slid into the right lane and shot past the Buick station wagon. He took a few breaths and then changed back into the left lane. He tried to look at Taya again.

"No, no," she said. "No looking. Keep your eyes on the road."

He groaned a little and slid his fingers in and out of her, curling them inwards, penetrating beyond the second knuckle. He felt her juices on the back of his hand now, felt her clenching at him in a knowing way, a clenching he had never felt in Cindy's pussy the times he had fingered her or fucked her.

"Mmmmm," Taya moaned, her fingers caressing his wrist, encouraging his ministrations.

His concentration on his driving began to wane. Though he kept his eyes forward the bulk of his actual attention was focused on the sensation of Taya's slick pussy on his fingers, the sound of her excited moans in his ears. The car began to drift to the right, bumping along the raised lane markers for a second before he had the presence of mind to pull it back.

"Okay," Taya said with mock sternness. "Enough finger play for you." She pulled his hand from her crotch. "Put that hand back on the wheel."

He groaned a little. "Why don't we pull over somewhere?" he suggested. "Maybe on one of these back roads?"

"Nope," she said, twisting a little in her chair again, so she was half facing towards him. "Keep driving."

"But..."

"No buts," she said firmly. "I make the rules here, my young friend. If you want to play, you have to follow them. Now keep driving. Since your attention is not such that you can rub me and drive at the same time, I guess I'll have to rub myself."

He started to turn his head towards her, driven more by instinct than anything else. She was going to rub herself? Right there in the passenger seat? That was possibly the most exciting thing he'd ever heard anyone say! The subject of female masturbation (which a part of him suspected didn't really occur) was one that obsessed him at times.

"Eyes forward!" Taya barked again, and again before he could get a good look at what she was doing. "You have driving duties to attend to. I have my own duties."

He put his eyes back on the road and kept them there. He still had his peripheral vision though, and with it, he could make out a blurry outline of Taya lying back in the seat, her legs spread widely, her fingers rubbing and pushing between them. He could hear the squishing sound as she penetrated herself, could hear her pants and moans. And, after a minute or so, he could smell the odor of her musk, the tangy, thick smell of an aroused woman.

"Oh, God," he muttered to himself, shaking with frustration and arousal. "Are you sure we can't stop?" he nearly pleaded.

"Drive," she told him, her voice slightly breathless. "Just drive, baby."

He drove, keeping both hands on the wheel and both eyes forward. He continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye, which gave him just enough input to drive him insane. Especially when she reached up, pushed her spaghetti straps down her shoulders, and lowered her top to let her large breasts pop free. He could see just enough to discern their immensity, their large, erect nipples.

"I see you're turned on," Taya whispered, her fingers probing and pushing, rotating and undulating. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah," he breathed, licking his lips.

"Does your little girlfriend ever turn you on like this?" she asked. "Has she ever played with her pretty little pussy in front of you?"

"No," he said. "Never."

"Maybe you should ask her to sometime," she suggested. "Mmmm, God, I just love to play with my pussy. I do it three or four times a day sometimes. When I'm at home, I stick a big old silver vibrator up there and just fuck myself silly with it. Would you like to watch me do that sometime?"

"Oh, God," Mark groaned.

"Here," she said, removing her hand from between her legs and leaning forward a little. "Taste me."

She held her fingers beneath his nose, against his lips. The smell of her musk was clean and fresh but overpowering in intensity. He moaned and sucked her fingers into his mouth, tasting the tang of her juices, the saltiness of her fingers.

"Oooh," Taya said. "Someone likes the taste of pussy. Does your little girlfriend let you eat her out?"

"No," he grunted, still swirling his tongue around her digits, driven mad with lust by the taste of her.

"She has no idea what she's missing," Taya said, taking her fingers away. She leaned back again and returned them to their position between her legs. The squishing sound returned, as did Taya's little moans.

This went on for another five minutes or so, though it seemed like forever to Mark. They barreled down the freeway at suicidal speed, flying past other cars. Occasionally he would have to change lanes to get past someone who was going less than 136 mph in the fast lane. Through it all, Taya continued to masturbate, to shove her fingers in and out of her wetness, to fill the car with the odor of her lust, to pull on her nipples with her free hand. And all Mark could do was watch out of the corner of his eye. If he tried to slow down or tried to look over at her, she would bark at him. And through it all, she continued to speak filthy, arousing things to him.

"I wish it was your tongue between my legs," she would tell him. "Or maybe your cock. Wouldn't you love to just slide that cock of yours into me?" Or she would ask, "Have you ever fucked a woman from behind? Just grabbed her by the waist while you were standing and just slammed into her? You ever stick your finger up her ass while you did it?"

She did not expect answers to her questions, didn't even acknowledge him if he did answer. She just kept rubbing and stroking and plunging and twisting and blurting out profane crudities. Mark's cock remained a rigid pole within his pants, a pole that was now leaking pre-cum into the cotton fabric.

Just when he thought he was going to explode with lust, she removed her hand from between her legs and sat up. "Slow down now," she said. "I want you to take the next exit."

There was a sign proclaiming that COUNTY ROAD 109 was one mile ahead. With relief, trepidation, and more than a little anticipation, he eased up on the accelerator, bringing the Jag gradually back to a speed that was almost sane. He risked another look over at her once the speedometer eased below the 80 mph mark. She did not bark at him this time, only smiled, but she was also no longer showing anything he hadn't seen before. Her skirt was pulled back down and her top was pulled back up. Her legs were tightly closed. She was licking the fingers that had been in her crotch.

"I like the taste of pussy too," she told him.

He didn't know how to answer her. He was on sensory overload. When he made it to the County Road 109 off ramp, he took it and, following Taya's instructions, turned left and crossed back over the freeway.

The freeway slipped far behind them as they barreled along the badly maintained two-lane road. Mark asked her a few times where they were going but she refused to answer, only telling him, "You'll see."

Soon, the end of County Road 109 came into sight ahead of them. The two-lane blacktop angled upward in its last 100 feet to dead-end into another two-lane road, this one elevated. It was the Sacramento River levee they had come to and Eden Highway, which ran atop it. As he came to the stop sign, he saw the murky water of California's biggest river flowing placidly by on the other side.

"Stay stopped for a second," Taya told him.

He kept his foot on the brake, the front tires just on the limit line. Taya leaned forward and activated a switch on the dashboard. There was a clank and then a whirring of machinery from behind them. The convertible top lifted up and swung back. It retracted into a slot behind the back seat, and let in the sun to beam down upon them, letting them feel the muggy air.

"Ahh, that's better," she said once the operation was complete. "I just love putting my top down, you know what I mean?"

"Uh... yeah," he said, wondering what was going to happen next.

"Turn left here and start heading down the road," she commanded. "This is one of my favorite roads to drive."

He did as she commanded, accelerating up to around 45 mph. He passed a yellow warning sign which proclaimed: CAUTION, WINDING LEVEE ROAD NEXT 25 MILES.

"You've experienced speed," Taya said, her hand dropping to his leg again, up high, near his crotch. "Now you'll get to experience handling."

"Handling?" he said, noting how she had gone out of her way to emphasize that word.

"Handling," she confirmed with a smile. And with that, her finger went to the zipper on his pants and began to slowly work it downward.

"Ohhhh," Mark groaned as he realized what she meant, as he felt the indirect pressure of her hand pushing on his bulge.

"Keep your eyes on the road," she warned. "No stopping, no waning of your attention. I don't want to end up in the river. The first hint I get that you're not concentrating on your driving, I go back to my seat, keep my hands to myself, and we go home. Understand?"

"Yeah," he breathed, already fighting to keep his concentration where it belonged.

"Good," she said, her fingers completing the operation of lowering his zipper. With that, she reached into the gap created and began to grope for his cock. He felt her grasp it and pull it out through the opening in his underwear, baring it to the air.

"Mmmm, nice young cock," she said, jacking it up and down a few times while he trembled and shook and piloted the car around the first of many S-curves. "I love nice young cock. Does your girlfriend ever suck you off?"

"No," he said, his hips raising up a little to increase the pressure of her hand.

"Never?" she asked teasingly. "What a prude. Would you like me to suck you off?"

"You mean... you mean... now?" he stammered.

"Of course now," she replied, giving an extra-firm jack of his member. "I'm quite the cocksucker, I'm told. I just love the taste of nice young come shooting into my mouth. Would you like me to suck you until you come in my mouth?"

His head was reeling with excitement. She wanted to give him a blowjob! And let him come in her mouth! While they were driving down a twisting levee road! Holy shit!

"Well?" Taya asked, her eyes on his face, her hand slowing its strokes on his cock. "Going once, going twice..."

"Yes," he blurted. "I do."

"That's the spirit," she said cheerfully. "Now remember, don't let your attention wane, not even a little. If you do, we stop what we're doing and go home."

"I won't," he promised.

"Very well." With that, she undid her seatbelt, squirmed around in her seat until she was facing him, and then leaned down towards his crotch. It took a little bit of maneuvering for her to force her head into the proper position but finally he felt her hot breath against the head of his cock. A second later he felt the wetness of her tongue swirling around.

"Oooohhh," he groaned, resisting the urge to lean his head back. He kept his eyes forward, both hands on the wheel.

She gave the entire head and upper shaft of his cock a slow, sensuous tongue bath while he continued to negotiate curve after curve, maintaining speeds of 30 to 45 mph. His right leg lifted up and down as he switched from accelerator to brake and back again and, though the car took the curves better than anything he had ever driven before, he hardly noticed. His attention only waned a single time - when she took him into her mouth and deep-throated him in a single stroke.

"Uhhhh, ohhhh," he groaned as he felt the exquisite sensation. He tremored almost spastically for a second and the car drifted into the oncoming lane just a little. He quickly brought it back to proper orientation before Taya noticed anything amiss and made good on her threat.

She slowly dragged her head back upwards, licking and sucking all the way, and then slid it down again, deep throating once more. Mark was not especially well endowed - he was pretty much average as far as cocks went - but he was still amazed she could take his entire length down her throat without gagging. The one time a girlfriend (not Cindy) had ever put his cock in her mouth she had only slurped on the actual head, and then only for about ten seconds or so before calling an end to the session. Taya's mouth felt exquisite, far better than any pussy he had ever been in. As far as he was concerned, this was heaven. If only he could remove his concentration from the task of driving down the twisting road and concentrate on the sensation properly.

But that, he knew, was against the rules Taya had laid down. He continued down the road, his foot changing from accelerator to brake and then back again, his hands firmly upon the wheel, the Jag remaining obediently in its own lane as the levee road twisted and turned its way along the river, heading in a generally southerly direction.

His struggle to remain in control of the car intensified when Taya began to bob her head up and down. She slurped on each downstroke, sucked gently on each upstroke. Her hand even got into the action, gripping him near the base of his cock and squeezing sensuously in time to her head bobs. Mark could feel her saliva coating his flesh, could feel the chill it caused when the breeze touched it. God, this was making him so hot. God, how he wanted to grab her hair in his hands and force her up and down, control her movements, but he couldn't. He could only enjoy the sensation passively and keep driving, keep taking the curves, controlling the acceleration and braking of the machine.

Taya raised her head up for a moment, smiling up at him. "I want your come," she told him. "I want it in my mouth. Give it to me, baby. Give it to me."

She dropped back down and renewed her attack upon him. Her head bobbed furiously, her mouth action increased in pressure, imparting even greater pleasure. He groaned, willing himself to let go, to shoot in her mouth as both she and he wanted so badly. But he could not muster the concentration to do so, not while the bulk of his attention was assigned to the task of safely negotiating the highway. The tripping mechanism that would start the machinery of orgasm in motion simply would not fire, would not allow him to go over the edge. The result of this was a level of delicious anticipation and frustration that seemed never-ending. It was like sitting in a roller coaster, climbing up and up towards the drop-off, but never getting there. He just kept climbing higher and higher. And just like on the roller coaster, he knew that - when he finally did reach the top - the drop was going to be longer and more intense.

It was obvious that Taya knew what she was doing to him. She began to suck faster and harder, to move her head up and down like a piston, her hand squeezing harder and harder, trying to force him over the edge despite his forced concentration on other things. She began to grunt at him encouragingly, utilizing her tongue more and more. Every once in a while she would pause for a second to look up at him and whisper the nastiest, filthiest words to him.

"Come on, baby," she would say. "Shoot your nasty come down my throat. Make me choke on it. I want that hot jizz all over my tongue. I want that spunk bathing my fucking tonsils. Do it to me! Do it, goddammit!"

And finally, after what seemed an eternity, his need for release could take no more. He felt the spasms starting, felt his hips began to thrust on their own, felt the waves of pleasure begin deep within him and begin to spread throughout his body. The roller coaster had finally reached the top.

"Taya," he grunted, struggling to keep his eyes forward, his hands on the wheel, his mind on his driving. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"Mmmmm hmmmm," Taya grunted, her hand moving faster now. "Mmmmm hmmmm."

The pleasure continued to build and build, far beyond the level of a normal orgasm, intensifying to the point that he thought for a moment it might never end, that he might be perpetually locked in this sweet torture of expanding delight. And, through it all, he kept his eyes open, kept his hands and feet manipulating the controls of the Jag, kept the wheels on the proper side of the yellow line. Finally, just when he thought he was going to go insane, the pleasure reached a peak. With a groan of sheer ecstasy his cock exploded, sending a jet of hot semen directly into Taya's sucking, slurping mouth. It was followed by another and another and yet another, each as powerful as the one before it, more come than he'd ever shot before.

Taya swallowed his offering expertly, not letting so much as a drop spill from her mouth and onto her leather seat. When the spasms finally stopped, she slowly raised her head from his lap. His cock was shiny clean, down to about half-staff, and glistening with her saliva. She smacked her lips a few times and then licked her lips. "Mmmmm," she said with satisfaction. "Youngster come. I just love it. Nice and fresh."

Mark was still panting with the afterglow of the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced. A sheen of sweat clung to his forehead despite the breeze, and his heart was hammering in his chest from the exertion.

"Did you enjoy that?" Taya asked him.

"Yeah," he grunted. "It was... it was..." He shook his head, indicating that words to describe the sensation were escaping him.

"The look on your face says it all," she said with a smile. "It's a look of exaltion, a look that I know I am responsible for. I bet your little girlfriend never puts that look on your face, does she?"

"No," he said. "I don't think she ever did."

"Maybe someday she will," Taya said. "If she's taught properly that is. In the meantime, I think its time you returned a little of the pleasure I've been giving you. What do you say?"

"Ummm, sure," he said eagerly.

"Very well." She looked around, as if trying to get her bearings. After a moment, she spotted a dilapidated marina on the opposite bank of the river. This seemed to orient her. "About two miles up there's a road that comes off the levee to the left. It's called Power Station Road. Take it."

"Okay," he agreed.

They drove in silence for the next three and half minutes, Mark with his half-hard cock still hanging out of his pants, Taya with her left hand shoved under her skirt, idly playing with herself (though keeping her crotch concealed from her young lover). Power Station Road appeared exactly where Taya had said it would. It was yet another narrow, badly maintained two-lane road that led off into the agricultural fields to the east. He turned the car and drove down it. Soon the levee road disappeared from sight behind them. After about five miles, they came to another road, this one little more than a single lane, with no yellow line down the middle. There wasn't even a sign to lend a name to it.

"Turn here," Taya told him, her fingers moving faster beneath her skirt now.

Mark turned and began to accelerate again, bouncing over potholes and going deeper into the rice fields. About two miles later Taya told him to stop.

"Where?" he asked, looking around. There was no shoulder, no turnouts.

"Right in the middle of the road," she said. "We shouldn't be disturbed. Hardly anyone ever comes down this road."

"Hardly anyone?" he asked dubiously.

"Hardly anyone," she repeated. "Besides, doesn't the possibility of getting caught make it more thrilling? More exciting?" She took her hand out from beneath her skirt and held it under his nose again, allowing him to smell her powerful musk once more. "More sexy?"

"Yeah," he had to admit. "It does."

He brought the car to a halt and set the brake. He then shut the engine down and looked at Taya expectantly, figuring they were going to recline the passenger seat and fuck there. At least he had experience with this variety of sexuality. But again, Taya had other ideas. She opened her door and stepped out.

"Follow me," she told him, heading towards the front of the car.

He unsnapped his seatbelt and got out, reaching down to pull up his pants as he walked forward.

"Just leave them down," she said. "You'll be needing your equipment soon, I think."

He held them up by hand and hobbled over to the front of the car, where Taya was standing. She was caressing the Jaguar emblem on the front as she had caressed his cock not too long before. She looked into his eyes.

"You want to see my pussy?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said unhesitantly. He was, in fact, dying to feast his eyes upon it, to look at it with something other than his peripheral vision.

"You're gonna get to see it close up," she said. "Very close up. In fact, you're gonna put your mouth all over it, aren't you?"

"Yes," he said.

"That's the spirit," she told him. With that, she turned around, so she was facing the hood of the car. Despite the heat radiating from the hood, she lay forward across it, her feet still on the ground, her legs slightly spread, her ass up in the air. She squirmed forward, wiggling and pulling on her skirt with her hands in the front. Finally, she seemed to be in the position she favored.

"Lift up my skirt," she said breathlessly.

His hands trembling, his cock already back to full blown hard-on status by the sheer nastiness of what he was doing, he reached forward and lifted her skirt up. Her smooth ass came into view and he stroked it for a moment, unable to resist. He looked lower, between her legs, and beheld her pussy for the first time. It was clean-shaven, just as he'd suspected, very wet, the lips swollen. He saw now that all of her squirming had been so she could position herself so her pussy was poised right atop the Jaguar emblem, so her juices would drip down upon its head.

"Eat me," Taya commanded. "Stick your face in my pussy and eat me raw, bitch!"

Inspired by her words and eager to get his mouth on that smooth pussy, he leaned forward and licked her right between the lips, gathering her juices on his tongue, tasting the tartness on the top, feeling the smooth, hot chrome of the Jaguar emblem on the bottom.

"Yes," Taya said with a sigh. "That's a good little bitch. Up and down, back and forth."

He did as told, licking her up and down, back and forth. He spun his tongue around in circles, slobbering all over her lips, plunging in and out a few times. Her moans and grunts of approval assured him he was doing a good job.

"Spread my cheeks with your hands," she ordered.

He did as told, which served to open her up as wide as possible. He continued to lick at her, to slather her smooth lips with his tongue, to taste her essence as it poured out of her body. He probed upward a little, searching out her clitoris, which, according to what he'd read on the subject, was supposedly a little bump that would be located near the top and would drive her crazy if he actually got his tongue on it. He found it after a few seconds of searching and the reaction from Taya assured him that his reading had been correct.

"Oh, yessss," she moaned. "Right there, bitch! Lick me right fucking there!"

He continued to lash the small bump with his tongue and it seemed to grow larger, more insistent with each stroke. Taya was now squirming around, rubbing herself against the Jag emblem, making it difficult for him to keep his mouth and tongue on target. He gripped her ass cheeks harder, trying to hold her in place.

"Oh yeah," she panted. "Squeeze that ass. Squeeze it!"

He did as requested, relishing the firmness of her globes, the heat of her flesh.

"Enough of this shit," she suddenly blurted. "Get your face out of there and put your cock in me. Fuck me now! Fuck me hard!"

He was reluctant to leave the feast he was enjoying but he remembered that she was in charge of this encounter, not he. He stood up, his face smeared with her juices and looked down at his target. Her pussy was now swollen obscenely open, just begging for intrusion. She adjusted herself a little, so her clit was resting on the Jag emblem's head, giving him room to do what she wanted.

"C'mon, bitch!" she ordered. "Fuck me! Slam that cock into my cunt!"

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a woman would use language such as that. It was arousing beyond belief. He placed the head of his cock against her lips and pushed forward, expecting resistance such as he encountered when fucking Cindy, or one of the other girls he'd done it with. To his surprise and delight, there was no such resistance. He slid in smoothly, in one fluid stroke, her membranes seeming to draw him inside of her, to suck him into her body.

"Ohhhh," he groaned in sheer bliss as he felt those knowledgeable muscles gripping at him.

"Fuck me on my car, bitch!" she told him. "Fuck me hard and fast! Do it!"

He began to thrust, hard and fast as requested, his hands still gripping the cheeks of her ass, using them for leverage. As he fucked her, she rubbed her clit against the Jag emblem's head, using a rotating motion. The sensation was incredible, both physically and mentally. He was fucking her in the middle of a road while she masturbated herself on her car! Incredible! There really was more to this act than simply lying down somewhere and rutting against each other. There really was a different level than simply climbing aboard a pretty teenager and going to town. Sex really wasn't over-rated after all. You just had to find the right partner.

"Harder!" Taya demanded. "I want to feel those balls slapping at me!"

He started fucking harder, pushing and pulling, slamming in and out as fast as he could, until his balls were indeed slapping against her, and against part of the Jag emblem as well, adding just a hint of pain to his pleasure. He began to sweat freely in the summer heat, the drops falling from his face onto her bare ass. His breath became ragged, as if he were running a marathon. And already, in his excitement, in the sheer sleaziness of what he was doing, he could feel another orgasm straining to be born.

Taya, seeming to almost read his mind, or perhaps the rhythm of his thrusting, suddenly barked, "Don't you dare come yet, bitch! Don't you dare! If you come before I've come at least twice, I'll leave your ass standing out here! You understand me?"

"Yeah," he panted, nearly wheezed. "I understand."

Twice, he thought desperately. She wanted to have two orgasms before he had one? Would he be able to hold out that long? And if he didn't, would she really leave him standing out here in the middle of nowhere while she drove blissfully home? She wasn't that cruel, was she?

"You're slowing up," she panted, reaching back and smacking at his leg. "Don't fag out on me now. Keep that cock slamming into me, you little puke! Fuck me like your life depends on it!"

He resumed his furious pace, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks, pulling her against him, using them for leverage. She liked his roughness with her, encouraged him to be rougher even.

"Leave marks on my ass!" she told him, barely able to speak now. "I want to see finger marks all over it when I look in the mirror!"

Her brazen words were making him lose control. His orgasm tried again to come forth, to force its way upon him, and he had to struggle to keep it at bay. It became particularly difficult as Taya's first orgasm overcame her. He had never seen a woman come before, let along been thrusting his cock inside one at the moment of truth. Her panting became harder and deeper, her ass cheeks sweaty in his hands. She began to moan uncontrollably, her pelvis mashing her clit harder and harder against the Jag emblem. Most alarming, her pussy began to spasm against his cock, gripping and releasing like a hot, wet hand.

"Oh, God," she moaned. "Oh, my fucking God!"

"Oh, God," Mark groaned with her, fighting with everything he had to remain

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Jacob came home at 5:25pm, as he did almost every day. It was Friday, so Ava knew to be ready. She heard him pull into the drive and she got into place. Jacob lingered in the car to finish the song that was playing. He liked to make himself hard to h ..continue reading

Cum tributes

I have been obsessed by my penis my entire life. As a little boy I loved to look at my dad?s Playboys and rub my hard little hairless cock. My dad had an extensive porn collection and I loved to look at them and play with my cock. At the age of 10 « ..continue reading

Crystal plays doctor

Crystal knew something was wrong. There just wasn’t any FEELING any more when she had sex. She could feel her lover enter her, and feel him thrusting, but she used to have a really quick trigger and now no matter what her lover did, she couldn’t ..continue reading

Slutty and hot Sis

My younger and hot sister Nina ‘ I have explained our physical relations. We were ready for our classes. Nina, a hot, wild, 19 yrs girl with nice boobs, lovely face, rounded bum, strong thighs, and reddish vagina. She uses to wear long skirts with ..continue reading