Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
ASTRID
Frasier didn’t even give me a chance to speak. He continued murmuring dirty things into my ear, his fingers pumping in and out of me quickly. If I were in my right mind, I’d think of how much of a dick he was for not letting me get a word in, but … but, God, it was so, so hot.
“You’re so pretty, baby. So wet for me. Tell me how good my fingers feel inside you.”
“Frasier …” I whimpered, glancing at a car passing us. It wasn’t like we were hidden—at all—just parked on the side of the road. “I think—”
“Forget about anyone else,” he murmured, drawing his nose against mine. “Tell me.”
Another whimper left my mouth as he built me closer and closer to an orgasm. I clutched his wrist and arched my back against the seat, digging my head into the headrest. I pressed my lips together to stop myself from screaming out in pleasure.
“Tell me, tell me,” he murmured. “I wanna hear it.”
“You feel so good!” I cried, legs shaking. “Please don’t stop.”
He pumped his fingers faster, deeper. I stared over at him, my jaw slack.
“I know,” he murmured. “I know. I know. I know. Let it all out for me.”
Pleasure coursed through my body, and my legs trembled wildly. I cried out, my body jerking against the seat. He doubled down and pressed his mouth against mine, eating up all my moans.
Once I finally came down from the orgasm, he pulled his fingers out of my cunt and stuffed them into his mouth, sucking off all my juices. A low groan left his mouth. “You taste so fucking good.”
I pulled my thighs together. “Frasier … we should probably get to—”
Frasier seized my hips and sat me on his lap, burying his face into the crook of my neck.
“Frasier—”
“I’ll be quick, baby,” he said, pulling his cock out of his khakis and positioning himself at my entrance. “I promise, I’ll get you to school on time. I can’t let you go without hearing more of those sexy moans while your pussy is gripping my big … fat”—he thrust into me—“cock.”
My eyes rolled back into my head, and my head lolled back from the insane pleasure coursing through me.
Drunk sex was great.
Sober sex? Oh my fucking God! When I wasn’t impaired and could make logical decisions and … and …
With his hands sliding up and down the sides of my body, he pounded up into me at a quick pace. I gripped on to his shoulders, my tits bouncing in Rush’s shirt. Frasier placed his mouth against the shirt, finding my nipple and biting down on it.
He helped me move up and down on his cock, staring up at me with his mouth still latched on to my nipple. And when he stopped thrusting upward, I continued moving on him, letting him fill me completely, then pulling him out.
“Oh my God, baby,” I cried. “Oh my God!”
“Don’t stop,” he murmured, tugging up on my shirt to see my tits. “Keep going. You’re doing so good. So, so, so good for me.”
I sank my nails into his shoulders and whimpered, “You like the way these big titties bounce in your face?”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them all back. They sounded so awkward, coming from me, especially sober Astrid!
“Fuck,” he grunted, sucking one of my breasts into his mouth and dipping his hand between my thighs to rub my clit.
“I love the way these titties bounce in my face, baby. Keep going. Keep going for me. Keep bouncing. They’re so fucking sexy.
You’re so sexy, baby. Look at you. Bouncing like a good little slut for me … ”
He continued and continued murmuring dirty words against my body, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. His fingers moved faster against my clit, and I lifted myself off him as an orgasm ripped through my body.
“Holy—”
Frasier grabbed my hips and forced me back down onto him, his mouth on my ear. “Stay deep as you come. I wanna feel this pretty pussy milking my cock.” He captured my earlobe between his teeth and growled, “I want my cum so deep inside you that it gets you pregnant.”
I clawed at his shoulders, crying and squirming and unable to stop myself from moaning.
“Frasier!” I cried, my legs trembling so uncontrollably that I couldn’t lift myself back off him even if I tried. My head was hazy with all the dirty words he mumbled against me. “It’s too much pressure.”
“You can take it,” he said, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth. “My girl can fucking take it.”
The orgasm didn’t stop rolling through every bit of my body. I clutched on to him tighter as he seized my hips, ready to make me come again. He wasn’t giving up. No, he was going to make me come so hard for a third time!
“I’m going to dump every last drop into your fucking pussy,” he growled into my mouth. “And you’re going to take it. You’re going to beg for it. Beg for me. Tell me that you want me to get you pregnant. Call yourself a dirty slut, a whore, my whore.”
“I’m a dirty slut,” I cried, tits moving against his chest. I couldn’t control the words that left my mouth; they just continued to spill out over and over and over. “Your whore! Please, fill my pussy. Make The Crew jealous. Get me pregnant, Frasier!”
One thrust. A second thrust.
And suddenly, he was buried deep inside me, lifting his hips off the driver’s seat and forcing my hips as close to him as he could get them, grunting and groaning into my mouth, telling me how much of a good girl I was, how I was taking it so well.
Pleasure exploded through my body, and I curled my toes. “Fuck!”
He pumped into my cunt a few more times, much slower, a low grunt drawn out from his mouth. When he finally stilled, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look into those sinful eyes of his, to stare at the playboy of Redwood.
He probably said all those filthy words to other girls he fucked in his car like this, but I couldn’t seem to care because it wasn’t even seven in the morning and I had already come three times.
“Are you always this horny in the morning?” he murmured. “Because if you are, then I’ll pick you up every morning, baby. You’ll be my little secret plaything.”