Pedernales Rising Ch. 01: Pull Over

It's our third date--one to which Travis probably hesitated to invite me. A wealthy friend of his is hosting a fundraising party for a local politician and has insisted he attend. Travis tells me he doesn't feel particularly strongly about the candidate, but owes this friend a favor and figures at a minimum there'll be good, free liquor to make the small talk tolerable. He is absolutely not suffering through it solo, so I get an invitation smothered in caveats. I accept even though it sounds like it's sure to be the exact opposite of my idea of a good time, only because I like him, and I'm curious to see what he looks like in a suit.

At 6pm, we're standing in front of the large glass and steel entry door of a private Westlake home. Inside, pods of well-dressed middle-agers are gathered, drinks and appetizers in hand. We both hesitate at the door. I can feel Travis regret this, which is kind of cute. I give him a side glance and a half-smile.

"Do we knock?" I kid. He smirks. As we fumble for the doorbell, we're spared the trouble as the host catches a glimpse of us through the glass. He faux-jogs over and as the door opens, a flood of social chatter pours out into the night, drowning out the cicadas.

"TRAVIS!" he yells.

"Hey, Will. Good to see you." I watch my date return a gritted smile as his friend pulls him in for a back-slapping hug, which he escapes by offering up the bottle of Macallan he brought along. Will hardly takes notice of his offering, keeping a heavy hand on Travis' shoulder as his eyes wander in my direction.

"And this is..."

Will has fallen into the deep V of my neckline and is struggling to find his way out.

I feel equal parts pity and disgust for this guy. It's clear he's used to getting away with unsavory behavior thanks to the size of his wallet. Is this the kind of guy Travis hangs out with? I wonder.

Travis is trying to wrestle Will's eyes away from me with his body language.

"A new friend--Erin."

Friend. Interesting choice of words. I feel slightly disappointed, but then check myself. Ok, psycho, what else would you be on a third date?

"Nice to meet you, Erin." Will extends his hand. I return the pleasantry, and go in for my best all-business handshake. He doesn't take the hint, and clumsily pulls me close to air kiss my cheek in a phony Euro way.

Once free, I catch Travis' gaze and give him big eyes and a smile that says "Holy shit, this is as bad as you said it would be. You're lucky I like you."

As Will leads us into the fray, my date makes a tongue-in-cheek "ladies first" gesture, extending his hand in Will's direction. I dutifully obey, and as Travis follows behind, he places his hand gentlemanly on the small of my back. I feel a little thrill and my heart picks up the pace. Where's the wine?

We find ourselves at a makeshift buffet--a couple of dining tables pushed together, draped with white tablecloth. As we grab some apps I notice that Travis also seems to like my dress, or rather what's underneath it. Too risqué? I wonder. I thought the slinky LBD with its narrow, plunging neckline was sexy in a tasteful way, but now I'm questioning my selection.

As if my insecurity were audible, he answers me. "You look beautiful. I meant to tell you earlier." I blush a little with flattery and also, relief.

"Thank you. You look great in a suit. Is that a prerequisite for law school?"

This elicits a chuckle. "How do you think I got in?"

I love that Travis can keep up with me. After way too many dates with vapid braggadocious tech bros and humorless sales guy types, it was an absolute relief to discover a man that can parry with me. It made our short first date, a simple weekday lunch, a bright spot in an otherwise pretty bleak week, and I couldn't wait to see him again. I'm still in partial disbelief that he's as sexy in person as he seemed on that stupid app--The app!

"Ugh." I groan in Travis' direction, with a wincing face. "I just realized, we are gonna have to come up with some kind of alternative story of how we met."

"Way ahead of you. We met while nude sunbathing at Hippie Hollow."

I laugh. "Yeah that's much better than meeting on a dating app for horny 20-somethings."

"We could always just say we were invited to the same orgy. That'll be sure to shut down the conversation."

"True..." I muse, and tap my lips as I feign consideration of the orgy story.

A knife clinks against a wine glass, quieting the social din. Guests are invited to take a seat in a large living room for a lecture by a guest speaker. As we make our way over, there's his hand again grazing the small of my back, a little lower this time, edging close to the gray area where gentlemanly bleeds into provocative. I'm glad I wore the lacy thong.

We take a seat in the back row. As the speaker drones on, my mind is elsewhere. My eyes are wandering around the room, people watching. I hate politics. I wonder if that's a deal killer?

I start to think about the warmth of Travis' hand on my back. How his hands would feel elsewhere. Discreetly, I check him out a little. He really does look nice in a suit. I grant myself a sneaky glance at his thighs... his lap... hmm.

Shit--he's noticed me noticing him. My head snaps back to the droning politician and I nod slightly as if I've been paying attention.

Travis leans close to me. "This guy is a doofus, and everyone is buying it," he chides sotto voce through the veil of my hair.

I'm glad he's as unimpressed as I am. I guess I can stop nodding.

His arm is draped casually behind my chair, and as his breath finds my ear, his index finger grazes the curve of my bare shoulder, in a lazy up and down motion that's strangely as comforting as it is sexy. God I want to kiss him.

"Want to bail?" I whisper back, my face close to his. Please say yes please say yes.

"Definitely," Travis says to my lips.

We endure the last few minutes of the talk, and offer some mandatory applause. Will takes the mic and encourages everyone to refill their glasses and check out the auction table.

"Now's the time to make our escape" Travis whispers with exaggerated urgency. He takes my hand, and leads me through the mingling huddle toward the door. Nobody notices when we slip out.

The door clicks shut and instantly we're in the quiet sanctuary of dark.

"Phew. Well it was nice knowing you," he jokes. He's still holding my hand, though, which I find sweet.

I laugh. "No, no, no. Your friend seems... nice."

"Nice and intoxicated."

We walk back to Travis' car, my heels clicking on the pavement. As we chat about the event, and nothing in particular, the back of my mind wonders if it'll put him off if I make the first move. Does he like an assertive woman? Or does he like to be in charge? Hmm.

After a short walk down the suburban street, we arrive at the vehicle. To my cynical amusement, Travis leads me to the passenger's side and opens the door.

"Ah so chivalry isn't dead after all." I let my eyes linger on his as I lower myself to take a seat. I'm not as modest as I could be with how much leg is revealed in the process.

Travis shuts the door with a wry smile. Through the windshield, I watch him walk to the driver's side of the Beemer. A lawyer who drives a BMW. My mother would be proud, I snark internally. Is he uptight? The whole chivalry thing is sweet and all, but does he have any edge to him? Will he pull my hair and spank me a little? Whoa, is it getting hot in here?"

My date hops into the driver's seat. "So, where are we going?"

Where are we going, indeed.

"Mmm it's a beautiful night... maybe somewhere we can sit outside?" I suggest.

"Ah, I know a place on the east side with a great patio. If you're up for the drive, I think it's even remote enough that we might be able to see stars without all the light pollution."

We are off, cruising through the night. Travis takes my hand. "Is this alright?" he asks.

Uh oh. Asking for permission. Is that a bad sign? Is he not aggressive in bed? The feminist in me hates myself for the thought. After all, it's all "consent, consent, consent" these days, right?

"Of course" I say, and guide our joined hands to rest high on my thigh.

We are talking about nothing, really, but it's enjoyable nevertheless. He's a great conversationalist. If there's no sexual chemistry, I think, at least we come away with a sweet friendship. I'm already creating silver linings. Damnit, I'm horny.

Travis breaks our grasp to make a U-turn, and when his hand returns, he rests it confidently on my left thigh and gives me a light, almost imperceptible rub and squeeze.

I feel a throb between my legs. There we go. Good man.

"Hmm," he utters questioningly.

"Hmm what?"

"Thigh highs?"

Ah, he's perceptive, and that's a rather suggestive question. How forward do I want to be? I decide to go for it.

"Take a look."

I can tell this surprises him. One eyebrow is raised as his eyes dart between the road and my face--a couple quick glances to make sure it's a real offer. My gaze is stone cold, the corner of my mouth turned up. Confirmation.

Travis slides his hand to the hem of my dress, his fingers lingering on my skin as he guides the slinky fabric up to my hip, revealing the wide, black lace band and smooth milky white of my upper thigh above it.

I can feel him gulp. "Holy shit."

To my delight, he takes my invitation as blanket permission to explore the whole area now exposed by my hiked-up dress. His fingers run lightly up and down the inside of my leg. A finger sneaks under the band of my stocking, and lifts it up to deliver a playful snap.

I feel my heart rate quicken and a warm, tingling heat inside my thong. I'm getting wet.

"You are... dangerously hot fire." Travis exhales to the windshield.

"And getting hotter."

"So what goes with black lace thigh highs?" he asks, delivering the leading question in a low, teasing voice. He doesn't wait for a response. As he walks his fingers up the inside of my leg, I spread them ever so slightly, granting access to wherever his hand would like to go. It finds my black lace thong and lightly explores the pattern of the fabric. I'm breathing quicker now, as I feel my clitoris swell a little in response to his light touch. I want more.

A quiet "mmm" escapes my lips as I close my eyes.

"You like that?"

"Yes," I breathe.

"Not as much as I do."

I laugh. Sexy, smart, and funny. The trifecta.

Travis rubs me slowly, with more firm, intentional direction on my clit. Then, confidently slides the crotch of my thong aside to discover my wet, eager pussy. Skillfully, he uses my wetness to glide his fingers slowly, masterfully around and over my clit.

"Oooh my god," I moan. I open my eyes to make sure we are still on the road. How is he doing this and driving?!

I swallow hard watching his hand move between my legs. I glance over, and notice the erection straining against his pants. I definitely want to fuck him.

I retrieve the prodding hand from between my legs and bring it to my lips. Gently opening Travis' palm, I trace the seam between his index and middle fingers with the firm tip of my tongue, tasting myself. I draw his index finger into my warm mouth and work my tongue around it as I slide it slowly between my lips.

Big hands, I think. Good sign.

I can't contain my desire to explore him more. With his hand still to my mouth, I lean over the center console and with my thumb and forefinger, trace the outline of his erection through his suit. Feeling his desire turns me on so much. I want to put my mouth on him. I grasp his needy cock with my whole hand now, and work it slowly, sucking his thick fingers in rhythm with my strokes.

I watch him struggle a little to drive, his hips indicating desire for more, his breath heavy.

"Pull over" I whisper between the fingers on my lips.

He do so quickly, the car crunching the gravel as it pulls onto the shoulder. We're on a fairly dark, two-lane road lined with patchy grass and scrubby cedar trees. It's not scenic.

Once we come to a stop, we look at each other and seem to simultaneously realize that we haven't kissed yet. Travis' amber eyes on my lips, he runs his fingers across my cheek and through my hair, finding the crown of my head and pulling my mouth to his. We are both pretty worked up, and our tongues knead one another hungrily between our lips. My hand reaches across the stick shift and fumbles to unbuckle his belt. I manage to get it unclasped and feel for the button of his suit pants, cursing them internally for their tricky closure.

As I fail to solve the riddle of the pant closure, the hand on the back of my head closes around my hair gently but firmly. Travis pulls my face away from his, raking my lower lip between his teeth with a kinky bite, as he draws me away and looks into my eyes. There's a mischievous, dark shadow across his face now. He almost looks angry. Is he?

"Get out of the car," Travis commands.

Wait. What? My head still spinning from the heat of the foreplay, I sit there in stunned silence trying to figure out what that means.

I'm still frozen in perplexion as he releases my hair, and opens the driver's side door.

Equal parts dumbfounded, scared, and excited, I watch his large figure pass through the gritty headlight and approach my door. It opens. He leans in and takes my face in his hands, kissing my neck.

"I said--"

Before I know what's happening, I'm whisked out of the seat and up into his arms, his hands holding my ass, my legs wrapped around him. With a couple large strides, he sits me down hard on the hood.

"--get out of the car."

Oh shit. He does have an edge and it is sexy as fuck.

The heat from the engine has made the metal hood hot on my ass and thighs. It hurts a little. I like it. Travis presses his straining cock between my legs, kissing me deeply and running his hands beneath my dress and around my ass and lower back. He moans into my mouth. He wants it bad. So do I.

I reach for a second attempt at the pant closure but he spares me the effort and deftly frees himself while simultaneously kicking off his shoes. The pants fall to his knees, followed by a flattering pair of boxer briefs. His fingers fly down the length of his dress shirt to unbutton it. It's dark, but I can tell he has a thick, ready cock.

He reaches for my face and kisses me, and my hand finds his naked erection already pulsing with precum. I can't wait to taste him.

I break our kiss and move to slide off the side of the hood and drop to my knees, but a heavy hand on my sternum flattens me onto the hood. The heat sears my back through the cutouts of my dress.

I let out a little shriek of excitement as Travis grabs the front of my thighs and pulls me swiftly to the edge of the hood. Before I can protest, he slips off my thong, and tosses it to the ground. I try to get up, but his insistent hand presses firmly on my chest, pinning me prone. He lowers himself between my legs and slows down now, as he sensually drapes one stockinged leg over his broad shoulder. And then the other. I can feel his breath between my legs, and I'm throbbing with anticipation. My heels still on, I dig them into his back as my hips arch achingly toward his mouth.

He kisses the inside of my thighs, as his hand runs down the length of my leg, making me wait for it. His soft lips make their way toward my center until finally, finally, I feel them on my clit, followed close behind by the mind-blowing sensation of his warm, persistent tongue massaging my arousal. God, he's good at this.

"Ooooh" I moan, feeling like I want to come already. Then--WHOOSH--a pickup truck drives by, startling me as I pop up onto my elbows. Travis don't move an inch. It's like he's in a meditative state. I succumb to it and lay back, enjoying his adept tongue coaxing my orgasm forward.

It's exciting to feel like someone might drive by and see us. But I also would rather not go to jail tonight. The combination of fear and pleasure sends my adrenaline through the roof.

"Oooh baby you're gonna make me come," I caution.

His low voice moans encouragingly into the V of my legs. I feel his fingers at my opening, teasing me there before slipping inside. With a firm, deep "come hither" motion, he works my g-spot as his tongue lightly, rhythmically licks my clit.

This sends me into outer space.

"Oooh! My god, baby." My back arches up off the hood.

Travis takes quick pauses from working his tongue on me to whisper over my pussy, "Yeah baby. Come for me. I know you like that. Come for me. You're so wet. Let me feel you come."

My legs are shaking over his shoulders, and I'm moaning up to the stars, over the distant highway traffic. I feel that familiar, intensely pleasurable warmth and pressure of an orgasm building. I grab his thick, dark hair in my hands and work my hips with the rhythm of his strokes.

"Oooh I'm gonna come!" I open my eyes and watch Travis moving between my legs. This is too much. My fingers clench his hair as my head falls back against the hood and my orgasm explodes over me like hot fireworks. "Aaah!" I cry as my pussy contracts sharply, again and again around his fingers.

My climax subsiding, he wisely slows down, keeping pressure on my g-spot and attending to my clit with slow, steady strokes. My heart is pounding through my chest. Oh my god, I'm still coming. The pulsing waves ebb as I pant hotly into the night air. I come back to consciousness eager to return the favor, and won't take no for an answer this time.

Travis stands, emerging from between my legs. I smile gratefully in his direction as I prop up on my elbows, and slip like liquid off the hood of the car and down to my knees. I hear him exhale deeply in anticipation. I slide the long fingers of my hand slowly, gently, up his muscular thigh and along the underside of his impressive cock, from base to tip, finding it beaded with precum. Grasping the eager member in my hand, I rub my thumb over and around the head, and then wrap my whole hand around it to guide it into my mouth. Travis tastes sweet slipping between my lips. "Mmm," I moan over his thickness. I move slowly, sucking earnestly and using my tongue to knead the engorged head of his cock. He's well-endowed, but not comically so. I love how he feels in my mouth.

Travis takes my head in his hands, fingers tousling my hair and pulling it away from my face to get a better look. I gaze up at him, locking eyes. The trees around us are slowly brightening, cast in increasingly warm light. Headlights approaching. RHOOM! A large cargo truck speeds by, pulling my hair and dress behind it in its wake. It's thrilling.

I'm working his cock deeply now, feeling the head press into the back of my throat. Travis is swelling with pleasure, and moaning occasionally as he watches me take him in my mouth.

My hand finds the warm sack between his legs, and massages it as I dive down the length of his cock, grazing his balls with my tongue. With my unoccupied hand, I stroke the back of his thigh, and his backside.

Travis' fists clench my hair and he lets out a low growl. I love hearing his enjoyment. "Mmm" I coax over his swollen member. He holds my head still, and thrusts deeply, controlling the pace. He wants to be in charge now.

"Ohh baby. Your mouth is so fucking good."

I can taste his orgasm approaching, and I'm bracing myself a little. The gravel doesn't feel great under my knees, so I squirm a bit to adjust. He must notice my discomfort, because he withdraws himself from the warmth of my mouth, and picks me up from the ground, setting me back on the hood. Travis looks for permission in my eyes, and finds it there. I lay back on the hood of the car, and he pulls me to the edge of the hood until my ass is hanging off the side, supported by his large, warm hands. He guides himself into me, and we both utter sounds of relief and pleasure.