Captive Ride(5)

“I’m making it my business. How wet are you between your legs right now?” I murmur against her cheek. “If I put my hand between your legs, tell me what would I find.” I move my hand between her thighs.

“Flint this is very inappropriate.” She pushes at my hand. “And you’re going to wrinkle my skirt. This is poplin and it’s very prone to wrinkling.”

“Then you should unzip it and push it to the floor.”

“I’m not going to sit here without a skirt on,” she says with real shock in her voice. She’s faced down hardened criminals but a little foreplay under the table shocks her. Oh Amy. You need this. You need me.

“Then you’re going to have to live with wrinkles because I’m not moving an inch from this seat until I find out how wet you are from just talking. I suspect it’s real wet. I bet you’re soaked.”

Her shiver is small, almost undetectable but I feel it. The tremor travels from her skin to mine, electrifying both of us.

My hand is at the upper part of her thighs and the tight fabric of her skirt is restricting any easy movement. My fingertips are already getting damp and I’m still a couple inches from the promised land.

Her hand grips my wrist. “Don’t,” she says.

“Don’t what? You need to be more explicit. Don’t stop? Don’t touch? Don’t make me come so hard that the table shakes?” She heaves another breath. “Amy, baby, you think too much.”

I shove my hand up higher, taking the skirt with me, until my fingers are right up against the cotton gusset of her panties. And they are sopping wet.

“Your food is here.”

Amy sags with relief. I don’t know why she thinks the arrival of my food would provide her with an escape. I give a brief nod of acknowledgment to the waitress who delivers a plate full of tiny circles of steak and strange looking fries. Amy starves herself and doesn’t even realize it, eating small plates and talking to folks only when it has to do with business.

And she’s hungry.

I feel it in the way her thighs clench hard around my fingers. I haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet.

“What are you thinking about right now?” I growl in her ear. She doesn’t say anything. Her lips are pressed together in a way that tells me she doesn’t want to reveal what’s running through her mind. I flick my pinkie finger against her soaking wet crotch and tiny sound escapes her throat. “I’ve imagined fucking you every way that’s possible and a few that’s not. I’ve pounded every hole a dozen times. Your mouth. Your pussy. Your ass. All of it. Now you tell me what you’re seeing in that pretty head of yours or I’m going to throw you on top of this table and show every person here exactly what I want to eat for lunch.”

“Your hand…is like a…handcuff on my…leg.” Between each word she gasps as if she can’t fill her lungs with enough air.

The panting, the words, the image she stirs up in my mind sends a bolt of electricity right to my cock. My pants were tight before but they’re fucking unbearable now. The zipper of my jeans is making an imprint on my shaft. I reach under the table and pull my cock upwards so that the inseam doesn’t strangle him to death.

Amy’s eyes track every movement of mine and I feel a gush of wetness as she imagines what’s going on underneath the table cloth. I bet she has a real good imagination.

“I want rip your panties off and come all over your pussy.” A soft gasp escapes her. I keep going. “I’m squeezing my balls right now because the pain is the only thing helping me keep my composure. You’re so hot, Amy, baby.” I tug the wet gusset of her panties to the side and rub my index and long fingers over her swollen pussy lips. Her arousal lubes the way. I slide the two fingers inside that wet, hot channel. She groans and shifts backward, but the tight skirt and the tight quarters gives her nowhere to run from me.

I curl my fingers as I drag them out and she moans again.

“Quiet, baby. You don’t want the other folks in here to get curious and come over here. Some of these women don’t look like they’ve had a good fuck in a decade. They’ll want the same treatment as you’re getting.”

Her eyes narrow. “And you’ll give it to them?” She tightens the muscles in her cunt until it feels like a vise around my fingers.

I choke on my laughter. “The only one I want is you.”

And then I drive my fingers hard and deep.

“Ohhh fucckk,” she whimpers. Her hands clench around the edge of the table, biting into the tablecloth.

She tries to shut her legs but my hand is there and she only drives my fingers deeper inside her.