I Don't Know The Answer To That

I don't know that I have the words to answer that because I don't know that I know what the answer is. I know that when he isn't touching me my body instinctively buckles trying to press him against me again. I know that he releases my breasts and renews his hold on my hips but this time he holds me up and he holds me tight and he holds me still, keeping me from being able to tempt him.

All against my best efforts. I stroke him with my hand and he twitches between my fingers. I feel his cock flex, feel it throb under my touch and when I rub the top of his head with the ball of my thumb something sticky connects the two of us and I know that he wants to cum.

"I can make you feel good," I promise him.

"Oh I know you can, darling," he says, "But I'm a grown man. I'm not a fan of dry humping. I'm not a fan of being teased. You want to make me cum you can do it with your lips. You want to get off but you're not going to let my hands beneath your hips? Well then you can use your own hand."

My frustration is so goddamn clear. My brow is furrowed and a whimper weakly bubbles out of me but he has no patience for it. He just shakes his head and leaves me wanting and wanton.

And even stroking him more only steels his resolve until the frustration builds with him and I see, clear as day in his eyes, that he's going to push me away and be done with me.

I can't have that. I don't think I could live with it.

"Let me suck your cock," I beg him, "Let me worship it. Let me use my slutty tongue and my whorish lips. Let me lavish it with all the attention I can manage and then cum for me. Let me drink it all down. Every. Last. Drop."

His mouth twists into a sharp line and his eyes narrow. He wants more, but he'll settle for that and he nods, clearly dissatisfied with me but not quite willing to toss me aside, "That's my girl."

Releasing my hips I feel a momentary temptation. A passing thought, really. Just a desire to once more, one last time, grind my panty clad mound on him. I know that it's tempting fate but frankly I just can't help myself. I fucking need it one last time.

But pushing too far in that direction will break his patience so I drop my hips down and then almost immediately back. I slide my ass out backwards towards the passenger side of the car but as I do that has the effect of pushing his cock head hard into me. Into all of me. Sliding from my asshole to my clit.

One last grind. One last furious sensation. One last shuddering rise as I feel him throbbing and pulsing against me and I take my time with it, closing my eyes and luxuriating in the feel of him pressing against me.

Then I'm sliding away and down and I'm slipping onto my knees again and my hands are running back up his thighs where they fell when he was shifting.

And I'm wrapping around his cock while I nuzzle up to it and I'm parting my lips around him as I stroke him, suckling on his head to taste the sweetness of his salty satisfaction.

And I feel him twitching beneath me and I push down to take more. I stretch around his thickness and I shudder when he hits the back of my tongue.

And he tastes like sweat and he tastes like salt. He tastes like musk, faintly mushroomy and entirely earthy and the pulse of him deep within me numbs my tongue in a line when I pull him back out again.

I let him pop out of me and I moan as I stroke him back to life. I shudder and I look up at him and I promise him.

"I'll be good this time, Sir," I promise, "I'll be sure to satisfy."

And then I turn my attention back down again, to make good on my word.

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