Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

THE ENGINE IS RUNNING as I watch you stride up the path towards me, gripping a Calculus 101 textbook across your chest. I wait until you step around to the side of the car before I flick the headlights back on. You open the passenger door and slide in.

“Hi Gracie. How did it go tonight?”

“Really well, thank you, the kids were really good,” you say, clicking the seat belt.

“Mr. Trouble didn’t give you any trouble?” I ask, backing out of the driveway and turning the wheel to point us to your place, as I’ve done many times before.

“Hah, not this time. We had dinner, played a few games then I sent both of them up to bed. The usual routine.”

I nod. Next, there will be silence for five minutes as we both stare ahead at the road, the two of us sitting alone in the dark, separated by decades of time and 18 inches of airspace. Some more chit-chat, about university life, midterms. I catch glimpses of you out of the corner of my eye as I make the turns, heading across town. You’re beautiful. The conversation is just filler, I’m not paying attention. Rather I’m savouring these 10 minutes of your sweet company as we slide across town, through mostly empty, carless streets.

You have on capris and a light blue cashmere cardigan, over a button-up white blouse. Your hands hold the textbooks on your lap. I faintly catch the slightest whiff of the scent you’re wearing. Like lemons.

God, you are a sweet young thing. At 19, you are the very definition of forbidden fruit. What a secret thrill it is to have these fleeting moments with you.

We reach the light at East 1st, just as it turns to yellow. And we wait, no other traffic in sight.

That’s when something truly incredible and unexpected happens, a moment that crashes through my midnight routine like a rock dropped off an overpass.

You move your hand onto my thigh.

I inhale sharply, surprised, and turn to meet your impish Kültür Escort smile. Oh, sweet Jesus. A few heartbeats later and the triggers in my brain open the right pipes and valves and blood rushes to my groin, rapidly swelling my cock.

“Gracie, wait…” I begin, but you lift your finger to your lips with your free hand then reach down to unbuckle your belt, all without lifting your hand from my crotch, where you are now rubbing my bulge.

The seat belt warning chime starts up, and the light turns green. A warning, danger, combined with a signal: GO. You lean over, and unsnap the front of my jeans, lower my fly, and then extract my now throbbing, straining member from my briefs. Wordlessly, you bend over me and take my cock into your sweet mouth.

Oh. My. God, Gracie.. Ohhhhhh.” It’s all I can say. You bob up and down in my lap, your hair falling in cascades in my lap, your lips sealed around my shaft, smacking and sucking. I rub your back and then reach under you and cup your breasts through your blouse. Your bra stops my progress, but I can feel your hard nipple within.

The light is still green, and so I turn my attention forward and pull through the intersection, and drive down the street and hang a right into an alley. We’re in a commercial area, and half way down the block I steer into an empty warehouse that’s been converted to a parking lot.

The fucking seat belt alarm is still dinging, every 10 seconds, and you haven’t relinquished my manhood. The lights are out in the warehouse, but I pull into the back corner and kill the engine.

“Mmmmmmmm….” is all you say.

I pull you off my throbbing hard cock and push back the seat and recline, and pull you on top of me, and kiss you full on the lips as I pull off your cardigan and undo the buttons on your blouse and then relieve you of your bra and pull your luscious breasts into my mouth. At long last I tongue your Kültür Escort Bayan sweet honey peaks. You mew in appreciation.

You work on the button of your capris, and pull away long enough to pull them off your ankles. Your panties are still on, they’re lacy and translucent, and I catch a glimpse of dark bush in a landing strip up the middle of your crotch. My mouth connects with your tit again as you straddle my lap.

“Give it to me, Mr. G,” you pant in my ear with a husky voice as you grind your silk-covered snatch against my straining bone. “Give it to me. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. I need it. I can’t stand it anymore.” Your breathing is ragged; you are so incredibly aroused, you’re in heat. No longer the innocent and responsible babysitter, you’re a teenage wet dream come to life, here in the front seat of my car.

I DON’T NEED MUCH encouragement. I reach down and pull aside the crotch of your saturated panties and my fingers make contact with your sopping wet pussy. Your lips are so wet and slick, I can tell you’ve been looking forward to this for much of this evening. I slide a finger inside your tight box and then withdraw and rub a little fingertip circle on your engorged clit. You shudder and gasp.

Oh god. This is going to be glorious. don’t tease me,” you say. “Do it. Do it now. Fuck me. I need it.”

I guide the tip of my blunt tool to your opening, and sensing contact, you immediately sit down fully upon me and swallow me in your box.

“HOLY HELL GRACIE… OH MY FUCKING GOD,” I shudder.

I’m mumbling incoherently in ecstasy, like speaking in tongues. It’s so good, it’s like the heavens opened up and welcomed me in as you literally bury me until your pussy is full to the hilt and your clit hits my pubic bone and you grind it there.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH YESSSSSSSSS” you say. “SOOOO GOOODDDDDDD!”

And then the ancient rhythm begins, honed by millennia, Escort Kültür as you raise and lower your glorious hips and rock back and forth on me, milking me, your wet labia wrapped around my thick cock, gripping me tightly. I meet your thrusts with my own, lifting your ass clear into the air as I start to plow into you. Months–nay, years–of tension and lip-biting anticipation unraveling in real time in forbidden but oh-so-sweet carnal satisfaction.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. The only sound is our skin making fast contact as my generous cock drills you relentlessly. And you moan and sob and cry, your eyes closed in concentration, your jaw slack. This is so much better than masturbation. So… much… more. You’re getting close.

And I draw almost your whole splendid left tit into my mouth and suck and you sob with ecstasy. “OHGODOHGOD MORE LIKE THAT YES FUCK ME HARDER….”

I start drilling you, feeling the pressure build as my orgasm builds alongside yours. I reach down and pull your hips hard down onto me as I thrust up into your snatch, your sweet nectar dripping down all over me, the scent of fucking filling the car like steam and its more than either of us can stand.

It begins in your thighs, as your legs, balanced on either side of my seat quiver and shake, and you twist your sweet young face, your mouth open wide as you look to the sky and arch your back driving your tit deeper into my hungry mouth and your climax sweeps over you in wracking, rushing, shuddering bliss. “OH! OH! AHHHHHHHHH FUUUCCCCCKKK COMMMMIIINNNGGG….”

I can’t hold on another millisecond as the most sexy erotic sight I’ve ever seen, my young charge, my new lover, impaled on my tool, gyrating through a crashing orgasm deep in your pussy and clit and I come deep inside you, releasing your breast so I can grind my teeth and pull you down hard onto me and howl.

I geyser jet after jet of my come into your depths, it boils out of me in glorious satisfying release, the culmination of a dream and a secret obsession brought into the light. You collapse on me, my Sweet Gracie and tuck your head into the nape of my neck. We both know it; this is the start of something beautiful.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32