Chapter 19

Gavin:

On Thursday, Sam is waiting in the hallway for me when my 11:50 class gets out. Since I’m only covering Peterson’s morning classes, Sam rides to campus with me in the mornings, every morning now. During which time, she gets a kick out of turning me on and then leaving me hanging. But… she’s touching me, so I’m sure as hell not going to complain.

She meets her friends for lunch after her second class and makes it back to Archer Hall just in time to meet up with me leave. She teases me some more while I drive the few minutes to drop her off at work, and then I head home, alone and rock fucking hard. Riding to and from the school with her feels so domestic and surprisingly nice. Even if it does leave me wound so tight that I’m practically ready to blow by the time I get home each day. But she makes up for it by sneaking into my bed each night after Robby has gone to sleep. And we have the most mind-blowing, brain-melting sex I’ve ever had in my life. To say this woman is amazing in bed would be a gross understatement.

The first snow of the season is falling in full force by the time we leave the building for the parking lot, and her chunky knit sweater does little to keep her warm as tiny flakes land in her hair, on her face, and fall through the absurdly large holes in the garment. I shrug out of my coat and throw it over her shoulders, immediately regretting exposing myself to the cold but glad I could offer her warmth. And then we race for my truck.

Because Sam has started riding with me, I now regularly park at the back corner of the lot, closest to the nature preserve that borders campus. It gives us more time alone together in the morning as we traverse the distance toward the academic buildings—not to mention giving me time to cool my jets after she teases me the whole way here—and hopefully keeps too many people from noticing we rode together. Now, though, I regret that decision because it only adds time to our run for the warmth of my truck. By the time we get to the vehicle, my fingertips are so numb I have trouble digging my keys out of my pocket and pressing the unlock button on the fob. I should have thought of getting them ready on the way here, not waited until I was standing outside the driver’s side door fumbling around for them while I freeze my nuts off. Finally, I have the keys in hand and unlock the truck with shaking fingers.

Sam is in the cab before I am, diving into the passenger seat as soon as the locks click their release. Once I’m inside, too, and close the door behind me, she slides across the bench seat, slips my coat off her shoulders, and throws it over the both of us while I start the engine and turn the heater way up.

Then we bundle under the coat, giggling like children, and shivering like crazy. She snuggles up against me and wraps my chilled hands in her only slightly warmer ones. Then she brings both our hands to her mouth and blows on them, rubs them together, blows again, rubs.

I’m transfixed, stuck like glue to the sight of her mouth pressed against my fingers. More than just warming my hands, the feel of her breath on me warms my nerve endings, sending pleasure signals straight to my brain. And lower. She must see my arousal in my expression because she pauses in her attention to our hands and meets my gaze with a heated look of her own. Her lips part, and her tongue darts out to wet them. I find myself unconsciously copying the action, and before I fully realize what’s happening, she leans in to kiss me, letting our joined hands fall to my lap. Her tongue dips into my mouth at the same time cool fingertips dip beneath my belt buckle. She’s starting early today. Normally, her habit is to wait until we’re in motion and I’m a captive to her touch before she reaches below my waistband.

I do my best to kiss her back with skill, distracted as I am by the feel of her featherlight touch tickling across my stomach. But when her caress brushes close to my dick, I give up on maintaining any semblance of finesse and groan into her mouth, buck my hips in an attempt to bring her hand even closer to my growing hard-on. She doesn’t disappoint, taking my cue and wrapping her grip around me solidly.

Without breaking our kiss, she pushes me back against the seat and climbs up onto her knees, then over me, straddling my lap with my dick still in her hands and still inside my pants. Which are getting very tight very quickly. I detach my lips from hers to reach for my belt and unbuckle it quickly, then unfasten the button on my pants, followed by the zipper. Finally, she pulls the waistband of my boxer briefs away and frees my erection. It juts up desperately between us.

I tear my gaze away from the sight of my dick wrapped delicately in her petite hand to make a paranoid visual sweep of our surroundings outside the truck. As far away from the buildings as we are, there’s only one other car in this remote corner of the parking lot, and even that vehicle is a good half dozen spaces away. No people are in sight, though it’s difficult to see very far beyond the fog on the truck windows. But if we can’t see out, then no one can see in either. I relax into the moment, secure in the knowledge of our relative privacy.

“I’ve been thinking about this all morning,” Sam tells me in a low, wispy voice.

“Making out in my truck?”

“Your cock.” Her tone is matter of fact, and that casual statement sends a jolt of arousal pulsing through me, making me even harder. I twitch in her hand to the rhythm of my heartbeat.

And now I’m curious. “Touching my cock?”

Sam smiles and nods, gives my erection a long, slow stroke up and then down. “Touching it.” Her free hand disappears between my seat and the truck door, and a moment later, the seat lever clicks and my seat moves backward, putting more room between us and the steering column. Then Sam shifts backward off my lap and onto her knees on the floorboard. “Tasting it,” she says before darting her tongue out to lick my tip.

The warmth of her tongue on me elicits a moan I couldn’t have stifled if I tried. As she sucks just the crown into the wet heat if her mouth, my head falls back against the headrest and my eyes close against the onslaught of sensation. But I don’t stay that way; I want—need—to see what’s happening. Need it like I need my next breath. I open my eyes and fight to keep them from rolling back in my head even as her mouth glides over me, taking all of me in until I feel myself pressed against the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Sam,” I murmur her name when she swallows, working the muscles of her throat against the head of my dick. She moans in response, and if I thought the sensations couldn’t get any better, I was wrong. Then she slides up my shaft, and holy shit I’m pretty sure she’s curling her tongue around me with the movement. I can’t decide which feels better, the slight suction of her lips as she moves them toward my head, or her hand still wrapped around me, stroking upward with the movement of her mouth. Up, up, then all the way back down. Up and down she sucks me until I’m teetering close to the edge, the edge of orgasm, the edge of sanity. “You’re so fucking good at this.” Never mind that my ex literally never gave me head in the two and a half years we were together, or the fact that no one’s gone down on me in a long, long time. I could have been with a hundred women and none of them would even come close to being as good as Sam is; of that I’m sure.

She tilts her head up to meet my gaze, and for a moment, I’m frozen in her cerulean stare, lost in the depths of the pleasure she’s giving me and the strength of my feelings for her. I want desperately to cum, but not like this. I want to give her a taste of the pleasure she’s giving me.

Gently, I grip her arms and tug softly to urge her back up onto my lap. She lets my dick slide out of her mouth with an audible plop and complies, returning to kneel over me. My hands land at her waist, and I pull her closer, then roam my fingers over her ass, her sides, under her sweater and up her ribcage to her breasts. I touch her everywhere, wanting to memorize the feel of her body under my hands. I want to learn every inch of her.

Pushing her sweater up, I tug her bra down, baring her breasts. Her nipples are taught and flushed, and I give in to the overwhelming urge to kiss them, first one, then the other. I suck it into my mouth, roll it on my tongue, and then nip gently with my teeth, reveling in the soft yelp of surprise that elicits from her. Her hands dig into my hair and grab gently at the shortish strands as she holds my face against her chest.

With one last lingering kiss to her breast, I pull back, let her sweater fall back down between us, and move my attention to her neck, her chin, then her lips. Molding my mouth over hers and dipping my tongue into her mouth, I reach for the waistband of her leggings and give a gentle tug. She lifts her weight just enough for me to pull the material over her ass, down her hips, but we get stuck at the place where her thighs spread to straddle me. It’s enough, though. I slip one hand between her legs and tug the tiny scrap of lace she calls underwear aside so I can play with the bud of her arousal. She’s already so wet.

Before I can slide my fingers inside her, though, she pulls back, breaking our kiss. “I need you inside me Gavin.”

“Yes,” I answer and try to make my arousal-fogged brain work well enough to figure out the logistics of making that happen asap. Sam apparently has it all figured out for me, thank goodness, because she shifts her weight away from me and, with graceful movements, turns herself around on the seat so she’s straddling me backward with her pants still bunched around her thighs. Her ass, lightly adorned by the tiniest string of a thong, hovers in the space in front of me, begging to be grabbed. Or maybe smacked. Would she even be into that? I decide to test that question another day and settle instead for grabbing her hips with both hands.

I jump in surprise when her hand grips my dick again. I didn’t even realize she had reached down in front of her to grab me until her fingers closed around me. Her body lowers into my lap smoothly and she guides me to her entrance. We connect, and I almost groan at the feel my erection pressing at her entrance. I’m right there. One grip and I could be buried deep. But before she can lower herself farther and take me fully inside her, I still her movement with my grip on her hips. How I have the mental fortitude to do so is beyond me, but I manage to hold off diving into her just long enough to gasp out, “Condom.”

She shoots back, “On the pill,” just as quickly, and that’s all I need to hear. I pull her down, sliding fully into her in one excruciatingly pleasurable movement that leaves me gasping for air and already in danger of cumming soon. Way too soon. I want this to last. For me. For her.

Sam lifts herself slightly off me and then slams her hips back into mine, driving me into her again.

“Fuck,” I say for only about the tenth time since we started this. My entire vocabulary has been reduced to caveman speak and curse words. And since I can’t find the words to tell her to slow down. I do it with my body, rounding my posture so I’m not quite so deep inside her and holding her hips still so she can’t rock against me so deliciously. Finally, she stills in my lap, turns to look back at me in confusion.

“Need a minute,” I breathe, burying my face against her back. I need her to catch up with me, need to get her to the brink, take her over the edge, and then I can let myself go too. I release her hips and trail one hand along her lines until it rests between her legs. Taking up the action I tried to start before she turned around, I find her clit and rub, up and then down, in a circular motion, press it between my fingers and rub some more. Until I find what she likes and her back arches. My free hand climbs up into her sweater to cup her breast while my other hand continues working her clit. We find a rhythm, and she begins gyrating against my hand, on my dick.

I do my best to ignore the sensations and focus on bring her pleasure, building her arousal, but I can’t imagine anything sexier than this moment, her riding me with one of my hands on her breast and the other buried between her legs. Her pace quickens, and she lifts off me just enough to drive back down. Again and again. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up, but I know for sure I won’t last much longer if she keeps doing what she’s doing now.

When she lets out a soft whimper of pleasure, I’m almost certain all is lost. My sack draws up tight, preparing for my impending release, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to cum right then and there. I move my hand faster between her legs. And then my salvation comes. Sam slams down on me one last time, then freezes for a brief moment before collapsing back onto me in a series of shudders and moans. Her inner walls tighten and ripple around me, milking me, and that’s all it takes. My orgasm hits with the force of a truck, and I shoot into her in waves as ecstasy undulates through me, overtaking me. I thrust my hips wildly, helplessly again and again as I empty myself inside her.

We stay like that for a long time after, breathless, half clothed. I wrap my arms around her and nuzzle into her neck, placing tiny kisses alone her nape until we’ve built up the strength to move again. I’m not cold anymore. If anything, it’s a little too warm in the truck now, but I’ll deal with a little heat to keep Sam in my arms just a few minutes longer.

Finally, she starts to stir and rises up off me, pulls her pants back up over her gorgeous ass. I take that as my cue to right my own clothing, and just minutes later, we’re both seated primly in our respective seats, fully dressed as if nothing ever happened.

I want to tell her how incredible that was. Best sex of my life, no lie. But the words just don’t seem right. So, instead, I turn to her and say, “Home?”

She looks up at me with an unreadable expression. “Sure.”

And home we go, and all I can think about through the entire ride is how much I want to pull over and do that all over again.