Chapter 5 Richard
RICHARD
I’m too wrapped up in Angus to think rationally, which is precisely what I wanted, isn’t it?
To be distracted. To forget. To lose myself.
He clutches the window ledge and the back of the driver’s seat as I massage his hard cock.
He squeezes his eyes shut, panting and moaning.
I press against his solid chest and kiss his jaw and neck.
“Is this how you want me to come?” he asks in a voice that suggests it’s not how he wants to come.
“I want you to come with me inside you, only—” I falter and bite my tongue.
“What?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex with a man.”
I haven’t even thought about having sex with anyone else since it was clear my relationship with Ashley was serious. Now, here I am, getting hot and heavy in the back of a Land Rover called Elle. It’s absurd and fucking hot. Thrilling and sexy.
“I bet it’s like riding a bike. You never forget how,” Angus says.
I tug at his jeans and pants. “I need you out of these.”
He stands as much as he can, hunching over, with his shoulders and head touching the roof of the Land Rover, and wriggles out of the rest of his clothes.
He plops back down on the bench seat and gives me a salacious grin. “Better?”
I take a moment to look him up and down. Fuck, his body is a powerful mass of bulging muscles and prominent veins. I lick my lips, unable to stop myself from drooling as I feast my eyes on him.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
“Yes,” I rasp.
He leans forward, puts his hands on my hips and kisses me softly. “I like what I see, too, Professor Jones.”
Need ripples through me, making my cock throb and ache.
I shouldn’t be turned on by him calling me that.
It should have the effect of a cold shower.
Yet the naughtiness of it is what makes it so appealing.
Knowing I shouldn’t be here with Angus makes me want him more.
The only explanation is that I’ve taken leave of my senses. Fuck it. I don’t care. I want him.
“Get lube and a condom.”
He twists onto his knees and leans between the front seats, over the centre console, so he can open the glove compartment and rummage in it. He shuts it, turns around and hands me a condom and a bottle of lube.
“Do you always have supplies in your car?”
Angus shrugs. “You never know when a sexy professor is going to want to fuck me in the back of my car.”
I arch a brow. “You make a habit of this?”
“Of having sex in a car? I already told you: sometimes. Of fucking professors? Nah. This is my first time.” He winks, gets back onto his knees, wraps his arms around the passenger’s headrest, and presses his cheek against the back of it. “Don’t disappoint me, Professor Jones.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is naughty. So wrong.
I flip the lube bottle cap and drizzle plenty down his crack.
It might have been a long time since I’ve had anal sex, but I remember the golden rule of using plenty of lube.
I trail my finger up and down his crack before teasing his pucker.
He gasps, moans, and presses his forehead harder against the backrest. His muscles tense every time I push the pad of my finger against his hole.
I’m drowning in his beauty. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer power of him.
“Tease,” he accuses.
I push my finger inside him. He gasps as I work past his tight ring of muscle and then groans as I slip my finger far enough to stroke his prostate.
“Oh, God,” he whimpers.
Oh, God, indeed. “You’re so damned tight. Tighter than—” I bite my tongue.
He opens his eyes and glances at me. “Pussy?”
I nod.
“I wouldn’t know. I just hope you like it.”
“Yes.”
I work my finger in and out, marvelling at how he squirms, whimpers, and groans. He’s so fucking sexy. So fucking stunning. I’m in awe of him.
I wait until his arse is fully relaxed before adding more lube and slipping a second finger inside him.
His groans intensify, becoming deeper, louder, and more throaty.
He fucks himself on my fingers, squeezing tight with his arse muscles to pull me further into him.
I stroke his lower back, feel the might of his thigh muscles as I sweep my palm over them.
I wrap my arm around him so I can draw my fingertips back and forth over his abs.
I’ve heard the phrase washboard abs before, but never truly understood it until now.
His are rock hard and stunningly defined.
“Richard!”
I tut before I’ve realised I’ve done it. “I prefer—”
“Professor Jones,” he bites out. “Please, Professor. Please fuck me.” He’s whining and desperate, and that turns me on even more.
My cock is aching so much. I’ll probably spill my load the second I sink inside him.
I slide my fingers out of his arse, stand enough to push my trousers and underwear around my thighs, carefully rip the condom packet, and roll it onto my throbbing cock.
I add lots of lube, revelling in the smacking sound as I beat myself off, thoroughly coating my length.
I kneel behind him, careful not to bash my head on the roof.
He spreads his knees and thighs as wide as possible in the confined space.
I hold his hips, line the head of my cock up with his glistening hole, and slide inside him one glorious inch at a time.
“Holy fuck,” I croon.
His arse hugs my length tight.
“Tighter than pussy?” he asks on a gasp.
“So much tighter.”
I stay still for several moments, simply enjoying the feel of being in him.
“Professor!” He pleads.
I chuckle and pull my hips back before snapping them forward, burying my cock deep into him.
“Fuck me!” He clutches the chair so tightly his knuckles turn white.
I fuck him. I fuck him hard. I fuck him fast. The Land Rover squeaks and rocks.
The windows steam up as we pant and gasp.
I thrust into him like there’s no tomorrow.
Like this is the last thing that I’ll ever do, and fuck, I enjoy it.
I enjoy every squeeze of his muscles, every groan, every whimper, every moan.
I marvel at the way he quivers and quakes.
Turned on by the beads of sweat that break out on his skin and trickle over his chiselled body.
I’m sweating too. My chest prickles with heat.
My body slaps against his on every thrust. Oh, fuck, if anyone finds us, we’ll get arrested.
I laugh, and fuck him as hard, urgently, and desperately as I can.
“Oh, fuck, I’m going to—” My orgasm explodes out of me, my cum filling the condom. I hold him tighter, crying out as I thrust a few more times to empty myself fully.
His body shakes and his arse tightens around me. He releases a beautiful, contented moan and then goes floppy in my arms, gasping as he collapses onto the seat. My cock slips out of him, and I lie over him, two sweaty, panting men, drowning in the smell of sex.
He lifts his hand and licks his lips. “That was so good, Professor. I feel well and truly schooled on sex now.”
I laugh, too exhausted to come up with a witty retort.
I bury my face against his side and inhale the scent of him.
I cling onto him, afraid that the moment I let go, reality will crash in, and I’ll realise how terrible an idea this was.
But for now, at least, I’m content to be with him, basking in the afterglow of sex.
We doze until the condom irritates my cock too much to ignore. I sit upright and carefully take it off. It probably doesn’t matter. Angus’s cum is splattered all over the bench, the back of the passenger seat, and his body.
“Hold on.” Angus leans over and grabs a packet of baby wipes from the glove compartment. He tosses them to me.
I use them to clean him up, then myself, and finally the upholstery.
Then, I scrunch all the rubbish into a ball.
I pull my pants and trousers up and sit, leaning onto my thighs.
Angus doesn’t get dressed. He’s gloriously naked, his body glistening, his soft cock lolling over his massive thigh.
His chin and jaw are red from beard rash. He’s glorious.
“I had a lot of fun,” he says.
“So did I.” I rub my hands over my thighs.
“It’s time to drive you back to the city, isn’t it?”
I nod.
His expression falls momentarily, but then he smiles brightly. “It’s late. You should probably book a hotel while I drive.”
“Good idea.”
“I’m full of them.” He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. “And I enjoyed being full of you, too.” He winks and then grabs his clothes.
It’s far too hot in here. I open the back door and jump out while he gets dressed.
It’s cooler outside the Land Rover. I fan my shirt against my skin and wander around to the front of the vehicle so that I can stare at the city.
It feels so far away, and yet too close.
It won’t be long before I’m alone, in a hotel room, with nothing but reality for company.
The back doors thud shut. Footsteps crunch towards me.
“Ready?” Angus asks.
I turn, pull him into my arms, push onto my tiptoes, and kiss him eagerly. My lips linger on his for far too long. It’s a goodbye kiss. He must sense it, too.
“Thank you for being great company,” I say.
“And an even better distraction?”
“Yes.”
“You’re welcome.”
I let him go and watch as he climbs into the driver’s seat.
The headlights come on with the rumbling engine, momentarily blinding me and obfuscating the view.
With a sigh, I join him in the Land Rover, put my seatbelt on, and turn my phone on.
I ignore the dozen texts and voice messages from Ashley, look up the cheapest hotel I can find, and call it.
Luckily, they have a twenty-four-hour reception.
By the time we’re approaching the city, I have a room booked for the night in a hotel close to the university and my car.
Angus pulls up as close to the hotel as he can. He doesn’t turn the engine off. “Are you going to be okay?”
I shrug. “I hope so.”
He grabs a pen and a scrap of paper from the glove compartment and scribbles his mobile number onto it. “If you ever need distracting again.”
I hesitate. I shouldn’t take it, but God help me, I want to. I pluck it from his fingers, nod my thanks, and slip it into my wallet.
“Take care,” he whispers.
“You too.” I get out of the Land Rover, turn to smile at him, and then wander slowly down the road to the hotel.
I check in and take the lift to my room. I sit on the bed and go through Ashley’s messages, which are increasingly irritated and demanding. No apologies. She asks me to come home. Tells me off for worrying her. Says we can work things out.
Me: I’m fine. I won’t be coming home.
I stare at my phone for a long time, but don’t receive a reply. She’s probably asleep, or too pissed off to respond. I’m beyond caring. Our marriage is well and truly over.