Chapter 37
Finally he turns down an unlit one-way road. The sidewalks on either side peter out at the end, where the grass has been trampled, allowing dirt to create an area for lost cars to turn around in. There’s only one house down this street, dark at this hour of the night, and as our headlights glance over its lawn, I see a sale sign that’s obviously been there a while. At the sidewalk’s end, Paul pulls over and parks, out of the way of anyone who might come down this dead-end street looking to turn around.
He turns off the ignition and the radio dies. The engine ticks softly into the night.
Covering my hand with his, he raises it from his lap to his lips and kisses the back of my knuckles. When I look over at him, I see a hunger smoldering in his gaze that mirrors my own. I grin slowly. Aw, yeah.
“There’s more room in the back,” Paul tells me.
Before I can answer, he opens the driver’s side door and cold air washes through the car. After the drive in the dark, the glare of the overhead light is blinding. I hurry to follow him, scrambling out and slamming my door shut a second after his closes. It sounds like the double beat of a heart, thump-THUMP, out here in the quiet night.
The back seat is larger, and a little more comfortable. Before climbing in, I shuck off my heavy winter coat and shove it across the top of the passenger seat to deposit it in the front. Then I slide into the back and wait.
Paul stands in the open doorway and unzips his coat. I slide over, closer to him, and reach out to tug at the fly on his khakis. It’s a button-down, so while he’s shrugging out of the coat, I unbutton his pants. His cock pushes against the fabric—I get one button done, two, before his white briefs poof into the opening of his fly. The third button sends his erection bulging through the gap, and I can feel the outline of his dick against the back of my hand as I struggle to release the fourth and final button.
Leaning closer, I press my face to the front of his briefs and breathe him in. Beneath the subtle odor of grease, I find his own, secret scent, a manly mix of musk and sex I want to devour. I open wide, taking the fabric-covered cock into my mouth. My tongue swirls around Paul’s bulge, tracing the curve of his member from hairy base to bulbous tip.
Unsatisfied, I peel down the saliva-slicked underwear and Paul’s heavy cock swings up to meet me. I kiss the head, licking away the pre-cum bubbling from the tip. My tongue finds his frenulum, that tight band of muscle on the underside where the glans flares out. My favorite part. Tickle the spot with your tongue, or nibble it gently with your teeth, and it will drive a man insane.
Paul’s no exception. I take his cockhead between my lips and lick out my tongue, fondling the frenulum. Above me I hear a guttural moan. Paul leans forward, pushing farther into me, and I hear the thudof his arms on the roof of the car. “God,” he sighs, his hips bucking toward me. “Oh God. There,there.”
I open wide, taking in his full length, until his pubes tickle my nose and I feel him in the back of my throat. Then I pull back slowly, savoring every inch of him, massaging and kneading his cock with my cheeks and tongue and lips as I make my way to the tip again. There I flick my tongue quickly over the frenulum for a maddening moment before letting him slip free completely.
I want more.
Unzipping my jeans, I scoot back across the seat. I keep a firm grip on my jeans and briefs, pulling them down my hips a little as I move. Freed from the confines of my undies, my cock stands at attention amid its bed of blond curls, the tip curving to the right a bit like it has a habit of doing. I take my dick in both hands and squeeze it hard, bringing the semi-rigid shaft to full-mast in one quick stroke. I tell Paul, “Get in here already and shut the door before someone decides to call the cops.”
He hooks his thumbs in the belt loops of his khakis and, when he bends down to peer into the back seat, he shucks the pants down his legs. I see strong, muscled thighs sworled with dark hair I want to comb my fingers through. His ruddy dick disappears beneath the hem of his T-shirt as he shimmies out of the khakis. His briefs follow suit. Then he’s clambering over me, the door swinging shut behind him. The overhead light winks out with something like relief.