Chapter 4 Getting Schooled #2
And Aida’s opening the car door, which means in about ninety seconds, I’ll also be car sex guy.
For the first time since that dark, dark day when Zach took me (with immense glee on his part, I might add) to trade in my fancy sports car for a fucking Range Rover, I give thanks for the spaciousness of this car.
And also for its fast-heating seats.
‘Get in here,’ I mutter, helping her off with her coat and chucking it in the back seat.
‘Geez, it’s cold,’ she huffs as she clambers over my knee to straddle me in the driver’s seat.
‘I’ll keep you warm, baby,’ I mutter, circling her waist and tugging her down on top of me. I’m hardening by the second. Fuck, I love her so much.
‘I’m not taking my clothes off.’
‘No need. My magical dick can punch through as many layers as needed.’
That makes her laugh. ‘Your power drill.’
‘Believe it, baby.’ My voice might sound marginally distracted, because I’m frantically burrowing under the soft, fine wool of her flowing dress to find nirvana. ‘Fuck. Are you wearing fucking tights?’
‘It’s December. Of course I am. Turbo dick can’t handle it?’
I love it when she gets all mocking and sarcastic, because it just fuels my fire. In about three minutes, when she’s writhing on my cock and unable to string a sentence together, it’ll make my victory all the sweeter.
‘Nope. It’s fine. I just—wait a sec.’ Shit. They’re quite thick. I close my eyes to feel my way and grab at the fabric around the crotch area. When I have a firm grip with both hands I tug, hard, and it tears with a ripping sound.
‘They were Falke,’ she protests with a laugh that’s breathy enough to know my caveman act is getting her hot. ‘They’re super expensive.’
‘Tough shit. I’ll buy you some more. Or you can keep wearing these ones so your legs stay warm but I can access that pussy whenever I like.’ I lower my voice. ‘What would you think of that?’
‘I’d be good with that,’ she says with a shiver, because I’m now stroking my knuckles lightly over the wet fabric of her thong.
She slides her hands up my chest, loosening my tie and unbuttoning the top couple of buttons of my shirt.
Her fingers are cold when she slides them under my collar so she can touch my skin, but I don’t care.
‘God, you look so hot in a tie. It makes me crazy.’
‘Useful pieces of kit, ties,’ I observe before she drops her face to mine.
I cannot resist this woman. Can’t resist any single part of her.
I extricate one hand from under her dress so I can tangle my fingers in her hair and grab at her neck and pull her face closer.
Not that she needs any encouragement. She’s sucking on my lower lip and entangling her tongue with mine—devouring me, basically.
I use my finger to hook her thong and yank it aside. Between that and the crotch-hole I made, I’ve got enough access. My wife is hot and soaking and so fucking slick it’s enough to drive a man mad.
Clearly, I should wear a tie more often.
‘Once again you’re a dirty little whore for my fingers,’ I murmur against her lips. ‘Just like that very first time.’
Her giggle turns to a sharp intake of breath through her teeth as I manoeuvre my hand enough to wedge two fingers inside her while my thumb finds her needy, swollen clit.
She moans and pushes down on my hand. ‘Jesus, sweetie. You’re not wrong.’
I slide my fingers out and back in. The only thought in my mind is how good this slick vice will feel around my cock in about thirty seconds.
‘Take me out, baby.’
She rests her forehead against mine as she wrestles with my belt and zipper, her movements clumsy and hurried because I’m still working her.
‘I wonder what all those pompous arseholes would say if they could see Aida Russell getting finger-fucked and loving it in the car park,’ I muse idly.
‘Probably please remove your son from our establishment and never come back,’ she retorts, and I laugh.
‘Better be quick then.’
It seems we’re on the same page, because she’s rearing up, and cursing as her knee momentarily slides off the side of the seat, and batting away the fabric of her dress so she can take my cock like the greedy girl we both know she is.
‘Put me inside you,’ I order her, removing my hand from her warm centre and grabbing her around the waist so she doesn’t go sideways again when she starts riding me. Probably should have done this in the back seat, come to think of it.
She makes a few adorable little noises of frustration and effort as she lifts herself over me, and holds her thong to one side, and feeds my impossibly stiff cock through the wretched hole in her tights.
And then she’s sliding my crown against her pussy, her wetness and mine coating each other like the best kind of lube, and I jolt.
I have no leverage here to fuck her, so she’ll have to do most of the work, but fuck, does this feel incredible.
And when she sinks down on me, the relief and awe and completion that consume me are like nothing else.
‘Arch your back if you can, sweetheart,’ I tell her, and she does, grabbing both my shoulder and the inner handle of the door to steady herself.
I lower my mouth to the hard little nipple poking through her dress and bite lightly through the fabric, and her shuddery whimper is the best kind of feedback.
‘I need it quick,’ she gasps. ‘And hard.’
‘Yeah,’ I mutter against her tit. ‘And when I get you home, I’ll tie you up with this tie and fuck you nice and slow. I might blindfold you and make you blow me first.’
She moans. My classy, bold, intellectual powerhouse of a wife still loves nothing more than for me to overpower her. Control her.
‘Ride me,’ I say, before biting down on her fabric-covered nipple, harder this time. I grip her hips and help her lever herself up and down on my lap, and fuck me, the sensation of her cunt dragging up and down along the length of my shaft is a fucking revelation.
Just like it is every single time.
I am not going to last. It’s too dirty, fucking like horny teenagers in the car park of Britain’s most elite school.
‘Rub your clit for me,’ I mumble as I tease her with my teeth and tongue.
She withdraws the hand that was gripping my shoulder and burrows under her skirts again.
Her fingers brush against the base of my cock, but the moment they make contact with her clit, she’s riding me harder, driving herself down onto me with every stroke until her breaths turn to moans and she collapses, her temple resting on my hair as she brings herself to a shuddering orgasm.
Thank fuck. I let rip as hard as I can with a volley of hip thrusts as her inner muscles clench around me, and then that divine burst of heat is racing up my dick and I’m coming too, jetting hot ropes deep inside my beautiful, spectacular, and totally fucking shameless wife.
I raise my face to kiss her, to show her how much I adore and respect her, how completely besotted I am. Our kiss is as slow and gentle as our fuck was fast and rough.
Both ways are amazing.
Every way is amazing with her.
It’s all amazing with her.