Road Head and More

Author's note: I originally wrote the first part as a vignette, but due to word limits I had to add a continuation, in which I tried to mirror the urgency of the first piece. Enjoy.

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I'm ready; I'm rarin' to go; I don't even want to wait until we're home. I just want to get at you right here, right now, in the front seat.

Rub you through your pants a bit, undo your belt, slide my hand down until my fingers reach your silky shaft. Quickly work your cock up and your pants down just enough. Unbuckle my seat-belt, lean over, apply my mouth.

Remind myself to breathe.

I'd start by deep-throating you a few times to relax my throat and re-positioning myself to kneel on the seat. Then I'd go to work, both hands and mouth, moving somewhat quickly for safety's sake. While I slide my hand up and down your thickening shaft, sliding back your foreskin, I kiss your lovely head, then gently part my lips over it. At first I'd suck teasingly, just the tip with just my lips, and then slowly add little flicks from my tongue.

After a little more tip-tongue fun, I'd start working you into my mouth, beginning that rhythm that I know will make you come for me. Every sixth or so stroke I slip your delicious cock further into my mouth; soon it's pressing toward my throat, but I know there's so much more of you to take!

As you get closer, I back off, worried about my molars on your girth and wanting you at your hardest. I work my hand more vigorously, trying to hold a steady pace despite my rising anticipation. I can feel your entire length twitching.

I hear you gasp through clenched teeth "I'mgonnacome!" I hum appreciatively, your grip on the steering wheel tightens, you plant your feet flat on the floor, and then I feel your hips buck. I gag a bit as your hot, heavy load shoots into my throat. I try to take you as deeply as I can and that second gag sets off my mini-orgasm, built on the danger and novelty of it all. I groan around your cock, my throat imitating my pussy, trying to swallow as much of your glorious orgasm as I can.

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He needs me in his mouth. Now.

Pulls into the back of the parking lot, shuts off the engine, tells me to push back my seat. Gets out, scans the deserted lot, comes around to my door, reaches for the handle-

Takes a deep breath.

I didn't wear underwear today, and my dress is already hiked up to my crotch when he opens the door. I recline the seat and smile smugly up at him, beckoning with my eyes. He folds himself into the footwell, kneeling between my legs while I rest my feet on the dashboard. His big, strong hands grip my big, strong thighs, allowing him to pull my opening apart gently by pressing his thumbs into the meat just below the intersection of my hip and pelvis. I know what he's trying to do, and he grins when he succeeds in making my pussy click with its own juices smacking together. I grin back, biting my lower lip in anticipation.

We both know how much I like to be teased, but right here and now's no time for the slow build up. Getting caught isn't likely, but his legs could quickly go numb. They're probably still weak from earlier. I pass a laugh off as a gasp, and he takes this as indication to press one of his thumbs against my opening, just letting the pad rest against my pulsating pussy. I narrow my eyes at him, and he gets an adorably serious look on his face.

He must think of cunnillingus as the most sacred act he can do for me, or maybe for himself, because he always performs it with such reverence. At first, he runs the tip of his tongue lightly up my un-parted, dangly inner labia. Then, he plants his lips firmly over my fleshy clitoral hood and sucks, burrowing his tongue in threateningly, but not daring to delve deep enough for my buried, over-sensitive clitoris. Sucking my mound is heavenly, but direct stimulation is like being burned with a match. Not to worry, though: I have him well-trained.

Hood-sucking quickly turns into nibbling, which he continues down my labia minora. As they part, my juices moisten my thighs and run down toward my butt cheeks, making me feel just as gooey outside as inside. I let out an excited cry when his teeth pinch my left labia minora; he pulls it slowly further and further with his upper incisors and tongue, stretching it away from its home just outside my majora. He knows how crazy this gets me, and sure enough I'm arching and moaning, balls of my feet planted against the dashboard and butt hovering off the seat. My give-a-damn has officially busted as anyone could look in the windows now to see me bridged against the dashboard, eyes closed, mouth open, and my man's face clearly between my legs.

I let out a moan punctuated by a shriek as he clamps down and suddenly pulls hard, making my labia sting for a split second before it snaps back out of his mouth. I feel it puffing up, engorging heavily, as he dives back down for the right one. This one he proceeds to roll around between his teeth rather roughly, playing less nicely since he knows it's more reluctant to stretch. I'm a gasping, whining, writhing mess, gripping the head of the seat and jerkily rolling my hips against his firm tugs.

Once that one snaps back against me and I've finished my long, impassioned moan, we meet each other's eyes. He's smiling, I'm staring him down, slightly crazed. I don't even have to tell him. He pushes his face into my nethers, opens his mouth like he's eating an apple, and sucks my entire plump mound in for a moment. With that tease, he presses his tongue against my dripping opening, fluctuating pressure but not yet penetrating. I can't tell which one of us he's torturing more. I want to ride his fucking tongue!

Instead, it slides up between my labia minora, skipping gingerly over that part just above my opening that is always the first to get overstimulated. He flicks the tip of his tongue deeply under my clitoral hood, causing me to shout in surprise and would-be distress, but immediately he's sucking my hood and fiddling with the puffier, danglier parts of my minora with his tongue as he draws them inside his mouth. Inside my vagina, I can feel my g-spot swelling in response to the indirect clitoral stimulation. Outside my vagina, I feel one of his hands un-cup my ass cheek and place fingers against my slick perineum. I make a loud, vaguely affirmative noise as he rubs his fingers and thumb along my crack to coat them in my juices. Meanwhile his mouth is hard at work, suckling and nibbling my engorged flesh.

When he places two fingers against my vaginal opening, we can both feel the unintentional resistance. He curls one away, and I sigh deeply, trying to relax and knowing just how damn good that one finger is going to feel. Sure enough, he slides effortlessly into the second knuckle, officially sending me over the threshold from loud moans to quiet screams. He easily finds the distinctly textured, spongy mound of my swollen g-spot and initiates tiny, gentle wiggles against it, just like I taught him. My legs begin to tremble from this stimulation, seizing violently on either side of his head.

Soon, my yelling dies down. I gasp for air once- twice- hold my breath- and then feel that glorious release. The tightening of my vaginal walls peaks, my whole body relaxes and exhales, and then I convulse crushingly over his one finger, grinding my pelvis into his face as my abs clench with the intensity of electrocution. My left arm flies out and smacks the headrest of the driver's seat; my right knuckles rap against the passenger window. My brain files the sound away under "Things That Will Hurt Later."

As the blood rushing in my ears recedes and my corporeal body begins to metaphorically reassemble, I notice his slower, sloppier sucking on my soaked mound and groan appreciatively. He slips his finger out of me and I'm thinking desperately that he can't be done yet! I gasp, wanting to tell him to suck faster, but still with one foot in le petit morte. His insistent tugging at my labia and clitoral hood is milking me, causing ample amounts of my juices to course down my legs, but it's not going to bring me over the edge again as-is. The thought crosses my mind that we should have grabbed the dedicated car towel, but at that moment he finally does something to bring my head back into the game. He grabs me by the hips, hard, digging both thumbs into the parts of my iliac crests that form the peaks of my pelvic vee. The rough motion and nerve hotspot stimulation snap my focus back to his face and the sticky, swollen pleasure zone buried just a tongue's depth away from his wet lips. I snap my head up, wide-eyed, and see him straining to look up at me over my pubis. I gasp, "Tongue. Now!" and let my head fall back against the headrest with an audible thud.

Finally, he releases my labia and nuzzles his way down to push his extraordinarily long tongue into me. As his nose nestles up against my clitoral region, his tongue meets no resistance. For about two repetitions he works his tongue like a small dildo, in and out, in and out, holding it rigid for me. Then I take over, feet planted firmly on the dash and powerful legs pumping my pubis against his face. I reach for his head with one hand, then both, allowing my butt to drop and using my shoulders to brace against the seat. Viciously, I clench his hair with my hands, and then his entire head between my thighs as I draw my feet up off the dash and hover them near his ears. Frantically, I gyrate my hips against his tongue, loving the feeling of the one thing that can't possibly hurt me pressing against my g-spot.

Suddenly, I feel it, like a rubber band snapped inside me. I know I'm about to come, and I clench my entire body around his head, his face, his glorious tongue. I'm curled up like a shrimp, holding most of my torso up with just my powerful abdominals- and then suddenly I feel a second snap deep inside my vagina. I cry out, almost in pain as I spasm even more tightly, and then a cascading, floating feeling roars through my body, causing me to arch back and then curl with each wave of my orgasm. I almost feel like I'm trying to make like a starfish and send my entire vagina out into his mouth; the convulsions leave me winded and shallowly gasping for air once the long orgasm has died down to searing aftershocks. As I jump and jolt in aftershocks, he kisses my clitoral hood and asks smugly, "Shall we go up to my apartment now?"