Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
“Not so fast,” she chided him. “You wanted it slow, remember?”
He smiled, the brief flash of fear in his eyes dissolving. “I’m completely at your mercy, it seems.”
“Good.” Amy pushed him back until he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the seat opposite; then, still holding the gun at him, she slid down on top of him, straddling him.
His hands smoothed up her thighs, one snaking inwards to thrust a finger into her wetness. She gasped, bucking a little against his hand as he moved his finger rhythmically, brushing his knuckle against her clitoris. She reached out and gripped his shoulder, preparing to sink down and impale herself upon him, whispering: “I want you to fuck me – do it hard – make me dirty -”
As she felt his cock rub against her swollen sex, she moaned his name in desperation. It was all the encouragement he needed, and he grasped hold of her hips and pulled her down tight against his pelvis, thrusting up brutally. He lapped and bit at her breasts as she shuddered above him, then took one hand away and caught her hair, bringing her head down to his to kiss her hungrily; snatching breath and words from each other as pleasure battered them both.
He felt her sex grip him before she came, her body out of control as she rode him furiously, her soft cries getting more and more urgent. It took all of his self-control not to bear her to the floor and drive into her over and over. Gritting his teeth, he felt her go, her body shaking as she screamed. He gasped, following her in, fucking her harder until he collapsed back, drained, holding her tight in his arms.
He rested his head against hers, his lips caressing her hairline. “You stole my favourite gun – again,” he said, trying to sound scolding.
“Mm, sorry, Richard,” she murmured, sounding anything but apologetic.
He sighed and reached out a hand for the gun that she’d dropped to the floor sometime during their embrace, checking it over with idle interest. “It’s not even loaded!”
Amy lifted her head and kissed him. “Would you have done what I said if you’d known it wasn’t loaded?”
“Of course I would. You only have to ask,” he assured her.
“Sometimes it’s more fun to take,” she said.
“I’ve taught you bad ways. I should never have got entangled with a wicked highwaywoman with such a voracious appetite -”
“I learned from the best.”
They kissed again, with a new hunger; until Ralf rapped on the roof of the coach.
“It’s getting cold,” Richard said at length. “Hill will complain about his arthritis if we’re not careful.”
“You didn’t have to bring him along to come and meet me,” Amy retorted. “One’s husband is quite adequate protection, I find – especially against highwaymen.”
end
