Lyft These

If I didn't know better, I'd think my husband was a vampire the way he was nibbling my neck. And every scrape of his teeth along the sensitive skin beneath my jawline sent shivers up my spine. In response, I was clawing at the back of the light grey silk Polo I'd gotten him a few weeks prior as a "just because" gift.

If we had been standing somewhere more public, we probably wouldn't have been putting on such a display. As it was, we were at a mutual friend's home for a get-together. It had started as a late afternoon overdressed cookout that had transformed into a sultry evening of drinks and dancing with a full bar and bartender. At the moment, the other couples around us were too absorbed into enjoying their own evening to pay any attention to us.

I slid my right hand down from Andres' back and across his butt cheek and gave the firm flesh a solid squeeze. He responded by running his tongue just below my earlobe which made me squeeze him and lean against him to keep from falling over. The three (or was it four...) strawberry margaritas I'd had throughout the afternoon and evening weren't helping either. Andres tightened his grip around my waist and pulled me closer. When I was pressed against him with his arms wrapped around me, it warmed my soul...and other parts of my body. I tipped my head to the side, momentarily breaking his contact with my neck and took a sideways glance at the couples nearest us. Most were furiously gyrating, in many cases offbeat, to the Bruno Mars track rumbling from hidden overhead speakers. A few, like us, were gently swaying together, caught up in their own world.

I slid my right hand from Andres' butt and brought it between us, passing it over his belt buckle to the front of his pants. I grinned in delight to find him thick and hard. I leaned my head close to his and whispered, breathing my warm breath across his ear. "Is this for me?"

"Only if you trade me something warm and wet for it," he said, punctuating his comment by flexing himself beneath my hand.

I grinned wider and fully gripped him, sliding the soft fabric of his slacks back and forth over it. The groan that rumbled through his chest let me know he was enjoying it. I took another sideways glance, and seeing no one looking our way, dared to remove my other hand from his back. I brought it around to meet my other hand at the front of his pants. Together, they worked to locate his zipper. When they did, Andres shifted his hips back.

I leaned in to his ear again. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just trying to dance with you." Andres swiveled his hips but kept distance from me.

I stepped closer to him and reached for his pants again which caused him to shift his hips away again. "If you're scared, say you're scared."

"Nobody's scared," he said. "I just don't want you to start something you're not willing to finish." He gave me a kiss on the earlobe.

"Is that a challenge?" I said. I reached for his pants again, and when he didn't shift away, grabbed him and sought out the zipper. When I found it, I pinched it and zipped it down before slipping my hand through the opening. I could feel the heat from his shaft through his boxers. I ran my hand up and down the side of it before seeking out the opening in the front and pressing my fingertips through. It only took a moment before I was rewarded with the smooth skin of his rock-hard cock and couldn't resist wrapping my hand around it. Andres tightened his arms around me and turned his head to rest his cheek on my head.

I slowly worked my hand back and forth on him, but the tight confines were restricting my movement. Once again, I took a look around us. Another couple had drifted closer to us, but they were clearly not focused on us. The woman had her shoes off and seemed to be doing her best impression of Cardi B in her Anaconda music video while the guy with her seemed to be doing his best impression of an inflatable wavy tube man.

I shifted my body to put more of my back towards them. Slowly, I peeled back the opening of Andres' pants while pulling his cock through the opening. When I felt him start to shift his hips backwards, I tightened my grip on him which kept him in place. I started working my hand back and forth along his shaft, savoring the feel of his warm skin against my palm.

"Oh shit...," I heard him mutter.

I lifted my head out from beneath his so that I could speak into his ear again. "You like that? You like me stroking your fat cock?"

"Mmmhmm," was his only audible response as he rubbed his fingers up my spine to my shoulder blades.

"I bet you'd like me down on my knees with my tongue wrapped around it even better," I said, knowing he loved when I talked dirty in public. I continued to stroke him, occasionally rubbing the head against my dress. He shuddered every time it passed across the silk material.

When the next song came on, I released him and turned around, not bothering to put him back into his pants. I took a step back toward him until my ass was pressed against him and began to grind against him. His hands immediately went to my hips as he pulled me tighter almost as if he was trying to fuck me through my dress. I leaned back into his chest and raised my hand up and around the back of his neck, pulling him in close to kiss me. The thumping rhythm of the music seemed to come through his mouth as his tongue flicked against my upper lip. I rolled my hips, running him along the cleft of my ass cheeks. Before I even realized he was doing it, Andres lifted his hands from my hips long my stomach and ribcage until he reached my tits. He gave them both a squeeze as I started to voice a protest.

"Ok...yeah...well...now you're doing too much. Someone's going to see that."

"Oh? Now who's scared?" he hissed into my ear. He had no trouble finding my nipples through my dress and thin bra. I clenched my teeth and sucked in a quick breath as he pinched them.

My sound was apparently just audible enough to draw the attention of the couple next to us. The woman, bent over in front of her man and shaking her ass against him, looked up at me and we locked eyes. Her eyes went wide as they drifted down from my face to my chest. She turned her head and said something over her shoulder to the guy. His eyes had been closed as he waved his arms over his head like they were on fire. When he opened his eyes, they quickly shifted from her to my chest as Andres continued to grope me. My self-consciousness was enveloping me, so I tried shifting my hips to turn me and Andres so that I was no longer on full display.

"What's the matter?" Andres said as he pressed against me to keep me from turning away from the other couple.

I tipped my head back so that I could whisper in his ear. Not only was it easier for him to hear me without shouting, it kept me from having to face the other couple. "We have an audience."

"If you're scared, say you're scared," Andres said, mocking me with the same words I'd said to him.

I rolled my eyes and stepped through his grip, letting his hands fall to my side, and continued walking without turning back. He'd turned a little harmless fun into a peepshow. I was only mildly annoyed but wanted him to think I was upset. The bar caught my eye so I changed direction and headed that way, intent on ordering yet another strawberry margarita.

A heavyset woman with short, spiky black hair was leaning onto the bar as I approached. She was wearing an untucked button-up shirt and baggy black slacks. Her fingers were curled around the neck of a half-empty Corona bottle. Just to the right of her was a glass full of red liquid that looked exactly like what I was looking for. The bartender raised his eyebrows as I stepped up.

"What can I get for you, ma'am?"

"Strawberry margarita." I pointed toward the one on the bar as if he needed an example and immediately felt like an idiot for doing so.

He nodded. "Coming right up." He turned and pulled a frosted glass from beneath the bar.

Spiky Hair shifted the Corona bottle from one hand to the other. She grabbed the margarita next to her, palmed it for a moment, and then slid it down the bar. It came to rest directly in front of me. When I turned to look at her, she returned my gaze with a look I was very familiar with: raw, passionate hunger. She gave me a wink and took a swig from her bottle. I eyed the glass in front of me. I had learned at an early age never to accept drinks from strangers--especially strangers that gave me that look.

"Thank you so much, that's quite alright. I don't mind waiting." I tried to keep my voice light. Man or woman, I always felt the need to keep the situation amicable when I refused a drink. Men with bruised egos didn't always accept "no" for an answer. Their ears would hear "no" but then they'd follow you onto the dance floor. To the bathroom. And back to your dorm. Women were dangerous in other ways.

"Suit yourself," Spiky Hair shrugged. She had a decidedly British accent. Or maybe it was English? To be honest, I couldn't distinguish one from another in that part of the world. And no matter which, the speaker always sounded classy to me. Spiky Hair turned her attention to an overhead TV that was playing a soccer match.

The bartender was mixing the contents of the margarita in a cocktail shaker, rocking it in front of him. His biceps flexed beneath a white button-up that was a couple sizes too small. On a passing glance, one might mistake him for a younger version of Vin Diesel.

"Qué estás bebiendo?" Andres' voice said behind me in broken up Spanish. I rolled my eyes. My parents were both born and raised in Puerto Rico but had made a deliberate effort to only speak English at home when I was growing up. The little Spanish I knew was reserved for speaking with my grandparents. Andres' Spanish was worse than mine, and he only used it to irritate me or when he was trying to seduce me. Sometimes, both roads led to the same place.

"I'm having a strawberry margarita," I said without turning around. He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned into my back, burying his face against my hair. Out the corner of my eye I saw Spiky Hair glance at us, but she said nothing and turned back to the game.

Andres moved his face so that his chin was resting on my shoulder. "Are you sure you should have another? You've had five already."

Something about him trying to moderate my drinking in front of the bartender and Spiky Hair irked me. I twisted my head away from his, but he wouldn't let go of my waist. "Thanks, dad," I said with a dry tinge to my voice, "I've had three."

"Maybe that's enough as it is," Andres said.

I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling and shook my head. "I've got it under control, alright?"

"I'm sure you do. I'm just looking out for you, that's all." Andres pecked me on the cheek.

Spiky Hair turned toward us and leaned sideways onto the bar. "I don't know, mate, she looks like a big girl to me."

Andres shifted to my side so that he was between me and Spiky Hair. "Well, I appreciate your concern, but she's had enough." Andres' tone clearly indicated that he did not appreciate her concern. He could be such a dick sometimes.

I looked down and eyed the strawberry margarita that Spiky Hair had slid over. The rim was coated with a sheet of what I presumed was salt or sugar. The ones I'd had earlier had a sugar rim, but most people preferred salt.

After another moment of hesitation, I snatched up the glass and tentatively licked a small part of the edge of the rim and grinned. Sugar. I tipped the glass against my lips and took in a mouthful, swirling it in mouth, savoring the sweet and sour contrast against my tongue, before swallowing it.

"Hey, no, you've had enough," Andres said. He put his hand on the back side of the glass, but the sudden motion jostled it and splashed liquid against my nose.

"Oy! Take it easy there." Spiky Hair was peering around Andres at me. "You've gone and spilt it all over her." She picked up a napkin from the bar and reached around him to pass it to me.

Andres snatched it from her hand. "Thanks, I got it." He turned away from her slowly, letting his eyes linger. He dotted it against my mouth.

"Don't throw a wobbly," Spiky Hair said and turned to lean forward against the bar again.

Andres spun around to face her. "Don't do what? Do we have a problem here?"

Spiky Hair scooped up her Corona and took a swig. For a moment, I thought she was ignoring him. When she turned her head toward him, titled at a sideways angle, she was still clutching the bottle. Something about the way she was holding it didn't sit right with me.

I skipped around Andres, grabbing his hips and shifting him backwards as I stepped between them. "Andres, it's fine, I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it." I turned toward Spiky Hair. "And you, Miss...I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. Thank you."

"The name's Kinsey," she said, not taking her eyes off Andres or letting go of the bottle.

"Alright, well, thank you Kinsey. It was nice to meet you." I offered a slight bow of my head. I turned back to Andres who was meeting Kinsey's hard stare with his own. "It's getting late, Andres, we should get going." But Andres didn't budge. It was a wild west standoff. All we needed was a tumbleweed rolling past. I needed to do something before the two of them started a bar brawl in our friend's home.

I narrowed my eyes and tried to give Andres a sultry look even though he was still looking at Kinsey. "We need to go so you can finish what you started," I said. I lowered my voice and tried to give it a breathy touch. It was enough to snap him out of his trance.

"Finish the what?" he said, turning his gaze to me.

I lightly raked my fingernails down his chest. "Finish what we started. Over there." I pointed toward the dance floor. Andres' eyes followed my finger, and there was a twinkle in his eyes as he caught on. I would've agreed to blow him behind the bar just to try to break this up.

"Yeah, let's go. It's about time to dick you down," Andres said, emphasizing the word 'dick' and putting an arm around my shoulder. He tossed Kinsey a final glare and started leading me away from the bar. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey love, why don't you take my number for later? I'll bring the strap by after he's knackered out."

Andres immediately hit the brakes and snatched his arm off my shoulders as he turned to respond. I was quick on my feet and managed to get in front of him before he reached the bar. Kinsey was still cradling the Corona bottle. Andres bumped against me but made no additional effort to push past me. His fists were clenched at his side, but in all the years I'd known him, I'd never known him to hit a woman. I worried that this situation might prove to be the exception to the rule.

"What'd you say...mate?" Andres said to Kinsey as he leaned against me.

"I think you heard me." Kinsey had stepped away from the bar and was now close enough that I could feel her body heat and smell the Corona on her breath. And was that some kind of cologne she was wearing?

An image suddenly flooded my hazy mind. I was on my hands and knees between her and Andres as they sport fucked me, filling my mouth and pussy and glaring at each other the whole time.

"Kin, where's my drink?" A tall redhead appeared out of thin air next to the three of us. She was wearing a tissue-thin white spaghetti-strap dress that looked a trashy nightgown. It was obvious she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Kinsey's face softened at the sound of the redhead's voice, and the aggression in it melted away as she turned to face her. "Hey, love." Kinsey put her arm around the redhead's waist and pulled her close until their hips were touching. While Kinsey was short and stocky, the redhead was tall and wiry. The contrast between them was jarring.

"My drink, where is it?" the redhead said again.

Kinsey turned toward the bar and finally set the Corona bottle down on it. She turned further and reached into the empty space where the strawberry margarita had been sitting before she slid it down the bar to me. Her eyes trailed along the bar as her brain seemed to play out the memory. She snapped her fingers and pointed when her eyes locked onto its new location.

"Sorry, love, I'll get you another one," Kinsey said.

The redhead folded her arms. "What'd you do, give it to her?" She pointed at me with her chin and looked me up and down. The way she'd said 'her' set my teeth on edge.

I gave her a hard eyeroll before turning back to Andres and pushing the side of his torso. "Time to go."

"God, you really have a thing for dirty Dominicans, don't you?" I heard the redhead say. I froze in my tracks. Andres grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. He'd heard it too.

I snatched my arm away and spun around on my heels. The room spun around with me, and it took several seconds before I could focus on the redhead. She was still facing toward us with her arms folded.

"The fuck did you call me?" The words were out of my mouth before they even appeared in my head. I took a step toward her. She took a step backwards but otherwise remained motionless. A smug smirk popped up on her face.

"I didn't say anything," the redhead said.

I took another step toward her. "Really? Because I could've sworn I heard you say you were a skinny, dumbass bitch who needs her ass beat," I said, gesturing with my hands as I spoke. "And I'm more than happy to oblige."

Now, it was Kinsey who stepped in front of me. "She was just taking the piss, honestly. She didn't mean anything by it."

My blood was pumping strong. I couldn't even hear the music or feel the pulsing beat from it anymore. All I could think of was snatching the redhead's tissue gown off her skeleton shoulders and strangling her with it.

Arms wrapped around my waist. Andres. He leaned his head against mine, kissing my cheek and then my earlobe. "As much as I love a good catfight, I love your pussy even more. And if I stand here and let you whip her ass, you'll be in a bad mood, and you're not going to wanna fuck tonight."

My eyelids fluttered. His low whisper and warm breath in my ear were pushing back my anger like the sun pushing away an afternoon rain shower.

This bitch wasn't worth my time. "Have a nice evening," I said to Kinsey. I turned to the redhead. "Love the dress," I said, twisting my face into a mocking smile. Her smug smile faded and was replaced with any icy glare, but she didn't respond.

Andres led us across the dance floor, meandering us between the gyrating bodies. The couple we'd been dancing next to threw us a wave as we passed. As we walked, to the front door, Andres fished his phone out of his pocket and ordered us a Lyft.

It was dark outside, and the walkway lights flickered and floated in front of me. My pulse was racing. The agitation was still coursing through my veins. The alcohol probably wasn't helping either. My muscles twitched. My mouth was dry. My head felt foamy like a bathtub with too much soap. I needed to cum.

I reached for the front of Andres' pants which made him jump and fumble his phone. "Just so you know, when I get you home, I'm getting this cock whether you like it or not. You've been teasing me with it all night."

Andres swept away at my hand and covered the front of his pants while glancing over his shoulder back at the house. "You'll be passed out by the time we get home."

"Then I want it now." I pushed past his hand and grabbed him.

Andres grabbed my wrist and then lurched forward at the waist when I didn't let go. "We're right in front of--someone's going to see." But I didn't care. The alcohol, the teasing, and the bar confrontation had my body on fire. I was ready to suck him in front of everyone in the house and anyone who happened to drive past. But instead, Andres put his phone back into his pocket after he'd ordered the Lyft. With both hands free, he pried my hand off of him and turned me around so that my back was to him. He wrapped both arms around my body, pinning my arms at my side. I felt like I was wearing a straightjacket. I lowered my head and tried to nip at his forearms, but he lowered his arms so that they were below my ribcage. I sagged back against his chest under the weight of the alcohol and shut my eyes. The warm evening breeze was refreshing against my hot skin. But I needed something more to put this fire out.