Grabbing the Wheel Pt. 02

This story is fiction. All sexually active adults in this story are over the age of 18.

Grants team won the tournament. I credit the cheerleading and the coaching. The bus ride back to the high school was awkward. For me more than him. Grant and the team were caught up in the celebration on the short drive back. He didn't say much or do much considering he had cum in my mouth at half time.

The Cat had his tongue. Wish it was my pussy instead..

I guess Grant 'the teacher' needed to keep up appearances and be professional. It's never good to raise suspicion. Once we arrived at the school and unloaded the team, Grant broke his silence and took me aside.

"Here's my cell number." He handed me the scorecard with his number scribbled below. "Apparently we have some unfinished business," he blushed, then stared down at his feet trying to appear coy. "What's your schedule look like this weekend?"

"Busy—but I'm certain I could squeeze you in," I said, tongue-in-cheek. Grant laughed. It was a nervous laugh. But it broke the ice.

That's important. It wasn't going to be a one-off like so many of my illicit encounters. I liked him—always liked him, in fact. I wasn't all that busy, but I've learned that men need a push sometimes. My time is important to me, so it better be important to them.

***

My bus was due for a CVIP (Commercial Vehicle) inspection. I was called in by the new girl, Madelaine, to drop my bus off at the shop. "Are you going to be there?" I asked. Curious to see the competition.

"Yes. I'll leave the backdoor open—just for you."

Interesting double entendre. Was my mind was in sexual overdrive?

I wondered if Cecil had made an advance on her yet. Was Madelaine's 'backdoor' open for him? Was she enjoying the 'benefits' that should have been mine? I was still annoyed that I hadn't got the position I applied for. Cecil made snap decisions; I believe. Perhaps he's impulsive. Mind you, had he not hired her I would not have been on a bus and converged with Grant once again. So, I still felt blessed and most importantly, employed.

Our bus yard was full of our thirty-five-foot Bluebirds. Most drivers had packed it in for the day. I pulled the bus up to the service bay doors and parked it. The rear door was unlocked, as promised, and I walked into the back of the service area. It was dark. I had forgotten to take notice during my orientation training about the location of the light switches. Luckily, a dim light emanated through one of the back doors, enough to give me some sense of direction. As I approached, there was a muffled conversation from within. I recognized Cecil's voice right away. The woman, most likely Madelaine, was gagging—at least it sounded like that.

I paused at the door and peeked in. Cecil was on his back, spread out on a desk. His trousers dangled from one leg. A gorgeous redhead—most certainly Madelaine—was facing me as I glanced through the small opening of the door. Her crimson locks were buried in his crotch, her head bobbed up and down on his shaft. I was shocked and surprised. She paused momentarily, detached from his penis, and smiled. Her two tiny hands wrapped around his cock as she looked up and winked at me, never missing a beat or stroke on her boss's dick. Madelaine licked her ruby lips. "Do you like that? My man-whore. You want more? Who's the boss?"

"You are—you are," he grunted.

She knew I was coming—probably planned the whole scene. She nibbled the head of his shaft and began to deep throat him aggressively—choking and gagging with each plunge—saliva spewing. Part of me was angry, maybe a little jealous.

He was moaning, "Oh, dear god, you are good."

Madelaine removed her mouth, licked her botoxed lips, and kept a firm hand grip on his dick.

"I want another load. Fresher than the one you gave me this morning."

Her hands slowly pumped him from base to tip and back again. I've seen a large phallus before, but Cecil's cock was almost the size of my wrist.

It's all about girth...is it not, ladies?

Perhaps it was an illusion because Madelaine was petite. She needed both hands to wrap around its circumference. It glistened and pulsed in the fluorescent lights. I felt a twitch in my pussy as my senses awoke to the smell of sex in the air. There was no doubt in my mind why Cecil hired Madeline without a second thought—she was gorgeous, closer in age and appeared to be a fellatio expert.

I wonder if she put that on her resume. Did she test drive his dick before my interview?

I watched Madelaine hike her skirt and climb up on my boss. She straddled his hips and began to move in slow motion, sliding up and back on his member. "Oh Cecil. Oh dear, dear Cecil. Are you liking this?" she crooned. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Oh god no. Please don't stop," he grunted. "Can I—go deep—into you—please?"

"Not yet, you...you...anxious puppy. Maddy's gotta get closer to the finish line. Let's get those hands busy shall we." She popped her ample bosoms out of her top, pushing her bra up to her shoulders. Cecil's hands gravitated up to them and cupped each one. "Only if you're a good boy do you get to penetrate me," she teased as he squeezed and pulled at both nipples.

"I promise. I'll be a good boy," he begged. Cecil was being tortured. He sounded desperate. My heart filled with empathy. She was a big tease. I felt that same dying need. It was beginning to build in me as well. This whole day of foreplay was beginning to take a toll on me. First Grant and now this! All my buttons were pushed to the limit.

I ran out of the back of the building and jumped into my Ford Escape. I pulled out the slip of paper with Grant's cell number and called. He answered right away. I begged him to give me his address. He did. I told him I was on my way over.

Better be ready babe.

I arrived at his place and parked on the street. The porch light was on though it was barely dusk. It was a small bungalow with a front deck and a charming stone pathway. I ran up and rang the doorbell. The door opened and there he stood, his hair still damp from a shower, his lower torso wrapped in a thick white towel. I melted at the sight.

"Hello there," he said with a shit-eating grin. "Couldn't wait for the weekend?"

I stepped over the threshold, kicked my shoes off and pulled him into my arms, punting the door shut with my heel. There was no time to waste.

"I guess that's a good sign," he laughed.

I pressed my lips to his and gently dug my nails into his soft back. My tongue shot deep into his mouth, twirling and twisting, trying to make him aware of my urgency. I tossed his towel to one side. "You won't be needing this." His member was half erect and looked delicious. "Is there anywhere more comfortable we can go?" I asked.

"I know just the place." Grant directed me down the darkened hall. I loosened my blouse, flinging it to one side and dropped my skirt along the way, leaving a trail of clothes like a cheesy harlequin romance novel. Grant turned and gazed at my half naked body, "That's a sight for sore eyes." He approached and gently kissed my neck. Reaching behind he unhooked my bra and slipped the straps off my shoulders. I tingled with wanton anticipation. His touch was excruciating. I needed him so badly. I worried briefly— when he gets to my panties, there's gonna be a puddle. I wish I still had the towel we'd left at the door in my hot hands. I could feel a tidal wave of Tsunami proportions approaching. I shivered as Grant slowly lowered himself to the floor kissing my navel. My legs began to tremble. His hands seductively scraped down my back to the top of my ass. I felt the rising eruption in my nipples first. My chest was glowing bright red. Grant's fingers wrapped around the waistband of my frilly undies and slowly lowered them till his nose was in my furry little runway.

This was too much.

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to my pulsing pussy and gasped. A swoosh of mind-numbing pleasure took me. His tongue lapped up my sweetness. His attention switched to my clit. He latched on. Oh my god. I weakened at the knees but Grant held me in his strong arms as the first wave of the most intense orgasm hit me. Then another wave of pleasure hit me stronger than the first. It felt like heaven but there was something missing. I needed more, I wanted to be fucked with wild abandon, right now!

Grant must have sensed this as he stood. I unceremoniously pushed him down on his bed and kicked my undies to the corner. His turgid rod, all veined and iridescent lay waiting for me, flat against his stomach. It needed no help with what was coming next. I slid on top of it and ground my pussy up and down the shaft, moistening it for the job ahead. I leaned forward and let the object of my obsession sit at my opening briefly, then in one swift motion let it penetrate deep inside. Grant groaned and mumbled something. What? I don't know. I was in a different realm. My eyes and ears were in a far-off place. My body had taken over in a hedonistic ritual that had eluded me for months, perhaps years. Grant's hands were on my breasts, cupping and squeezing. I wanted him deeper but didn't want to stop. I spun quickly, facing his feet and got the deep penetrating fuck that I enjoyed most, reverse-cowgirl. It feels a lot like doggy-style, the big difference—I'm the one in charge. The tempo, the pace, each excruciating release was all under my command. I could feel my breast tightening as they bounced. My engorged nipples needed very little coaxing as I lifted my hands from Grant's thigh and squeezed. It was like a lightning bolt went straight to my clit.

OH—my god. Here it comes. I'm...almost...there. Oh gaaaawd...I'm cummming.

I lost count of my orgasms. I rode him and rode him till the lubrication between us was making a human 'slip n' slide.' He must have come too. The puddle between us seemed to have quadrupled. Exhausted and spent I rolled off him and laid there, basking in the glow. Grant spooned up next to me and caressed my long hair away from my face. As I drifted off to sleep my only thought was...

Is this love? It sure felt like it.