A Proper Baptist Ch. 04

He rubbed his finger over her moist slit. Marcie flinched. He touched the same spot. She flinched again and squealed and buried her face against his shoulder. He pressed the tip of his middle finger harder to that spot. Her entire body bucked against his. She squeezed his wrist and screamed into the folds of his jacket. He continued to rub that spot until her writhing and her muffled screams stopped. When she finally lifted her face from his shoulder she was smiling and her face glowed.

"Wow. That really felt good," she said.

"I'm pleased," Oliver said, and returned her smile. He hoped that she couldn't see through it, that she couldn't see that he had no idea it was possible to get such a reaction from a woman just by touching her with one finger.

Marcie sat down on the edge of her bed. His hand came out of her shorts and his fingers were wet with her juices. Her eyes looked down at his groin and grew wide. The pink tip of her tongue licked her lips. She reached up and rubbed his erection against his leg.

"You're really hard," she said with a sigh.

"Yes."

"I wanna suck your dick again. Can I do that?"

Her hand unzipped his fly and reached into his slacks before he knew what she was doing. He grabbed her wrist, but his penis tingled where her fingers touched it, and his head spun. He pulled her hand out.

"Marcie ..." he started.

"What? I want you to fuck me, right here on my bed," she said, patting the purple blanket.

"Marcie, I didn't come here to fu- To seduce you. I came here to apologize."

"You can apologize later, after you fuck me," she said, and giggled.

Oliver swallowed. She was right. It was too late to make apologies. He shook his head. What was happening? He couldn't think straight. It was as if the throbbing, painfully hard device in his slacks was making decisions for him. Marcie leaned back on her arms. Her soccer shorts were stretched tight over the gentle mound between her legs, and her hard nipples poked through the thin halter top. He closed his eyes.

"We can't do this in your room. Your father will hear," he said.

"Where can we go?"

"I don't know," Oliver said. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, afraid that if he looked at her once more, he could not prevent himself from ravishing her right there.

"You can take me for a ride in your car," Marcie said.

His eyes opened. Of course. They could go back to his apartment. If his sister was out, they might have enough time to ... Dear God, he couldn't believe he was even thinking something like that.

"Ok. Let's go for a ride. What are we gonna tell your father?"

She shrugged and hopped off the bed.

"I don't know. I'll think of something," she said.

She did. She told her father that Oliver was taking her to the church. All he said was to be back in time for dinner and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. Covering the erection in his pants with his hands, Oliver managed to force a smile, but in his stomach he felt sick.