35 - Jess
Jess
Hunter sat relaxed behind the thin-rimmed steering wheel, one hand slung casually over the top curve while his elbow rested against the open window frame. The warm summer wind rushed through the cabin, tossing his hair into a messy, uncombed fringe.
"Perfect day for a road trip," he said, his voice easily cutting through the rushing wind. "No traffic, no sirens. Just the open country."
My fingers reached across the expanse of the front bench seat, my hand tracking up the dense muscle of his shoulder to toy with a thick tuft of hair just behind his ear.
The energy radiating from him always made me feel a little feral, a specific reaction that bypassed the analytical part of my brain. "Know what'll make it even better?"
Hunter took his eyes off the asphalt long enough to register the look in my eyes.
A slow, knowing grin began to form at the corners of his mouth, though the playful remark died on his tongue.
The subtext required zero translation. My hands already worked beneath the hem of my yellow cotton sundress, a brief struggle with elastic ending as a small scrap of lace peeled down my thighs and landed on the floor mat by the gear stick.
The truck swerved dramatically to the right, the tires crunching over the gravel shoulder before the brakes caught with a definitive, mechanical halt. The engine idled with a deep throb.
Hunter bypassed the door entirely, his long legs swinging over the front backrest as he dropped into the more spacious bench seat in the rear.
The vinyl creaked under his weight. He leaned forward immediately, his mouth targeting mine for a deep, desperate kiss that tasted of the gas station coffee we consumed an hour ago.
My palms hit his chest with a relentless pressure, halting his momentum and shoving him down until his back hit the seat. "Sit down, Hunter. Your turn to watch."
His breath hitched as my fingers went straight to the copper button of his denim jeans.
His zipper parted to reveal a thick, hard length that sprang free against the cotton of his boxers.
Dropping to my knees in the narrow space between the seats, the rough textured floor carpet bit into my bare skin through the yellow sundress.
Hunter’s cock stood fully erect, a long, thick pillar of heat that wept a steady drop of moisture onto his stomach.
My lips closed around the velvet head, my tongue swirling over the ridge to draw a sharp, hitching gasp from his throat. The heat of him filled my mouth as my head bobbed forward, picking up speed as the familiar musk of his arousal hit the back of my throat.
"Whoa, slow down," Hunter murmured, his voice a warm, soothing purr in the quiet of the truck. His rough hand slid into my hair, gently pushing the stray strands back from my eyes before tracking down to stroke my flushed cheek with a tender precision. "We got all day. Don't rush it."
The bobbing of my head grew more enthusiastic anyway, my throat tightening around the crown as my hands gripped his thighs. Hunter let out a quiet grunt and leaned forward, his fingers at the base of his shaft gently easing my face back until his length popped free of my lips.
He held himself just out of reach, trailing the highly sensitive tip over my wet, swollen lips.
When my mouth opened to try and swallow him back down, he playfully tugged the shaft an inch away, leaving me snapping at empty space.
It was a total tease. He grazed the thick side of his dick along my left cheek, leaving a glistening streak of pre-cum on my skin, before bringing it back to graze my mouth again.
My hot, panting breath played over the crown, making the vein under the skin throb violently.
He moved the shaft to the other side before he brought it back to center and delivered another light tap against my parted lips.
"Okay, just a little more," he panted, his eyes darkening as he stared down at my mouth. "I can't hold out for much longer if you keep looking at me like that."
He slowly fed the thick length back into my mouth, his hand guiding the depth to ensure a smooth, deep glide.
The blow job continued in a long, drawn-out rhythm that made a steady stream of my own pussy juice run down my inner thigh.
The pungent aroma of his readiness acted like liquid fuel, turning my core into an absolute furnace.
Hunter slowly but surely started losing his tight grip on his composure.
His hips began to jerk forward in short, involuntary thrusts to meet the bobbing motion of my head, his thighs locking rigid as his spine went stiff against the seatback.
His head thumped back, his eyelids fluttering closed in absolute submission to the friction.
The telltale signs of a climax signaled the end of the line. My mouth released his cock, and I clamped my fingers around the very base of his shaft, squeezing firmly with a vice-like grip to halt the oncoming ejaculation before it could clear the ridge.
"Don't you dare," the warning left my lips in a fierce, breathless whisper as I looked up from his lap.
Hunter’s lids drifted open lazily, his eyes hazy and unfocused as his lungs fought to even out his breathing. A weak, defeated chuckle shook his chest. "Your fault."
I gave a breathless laugh as my hands released the base of his shaft. "Luckily for you, we have a wedding to get to. And since I'm so fucking turned on right now, this'll be quick."
A swift turn on the weathered vinyl seat placed my knees on the cushion, my behind facing him as my hands gripped the top edge of the backrest. The open side window framed a picturesque expanse of blue sky and rolling Virginia valleys, the crisp breeze playing over my face to cool the flush on my cheeks.
Hunter’s hands bunched the yellow cotton of my sundress, lifting the fabric high to expose my bare hips.
He moved into position behind me, kneeling on the wide bench seat with his thick thighs bracketed around mine.
His tip nudged against the soaking lips of my pussy, the heat of his erection pressing firm against my skin.
"Even on a timer, I'll still make you come like a freight train," he muttered near my ear.
His hips surged forward, driving his length all the way inside without a single pause. The full penetration made my back arch, my internal walls clenching tight around his intrusive thickness as he established a hard, fast cadence. The vinyl creaked beneath us under the force of his momentum.
"Touch yourself, Jess," he panted, his hands digging into my waist to guide the depth of each stroke.
My right hand slid down between my stomach and the vinyl, my index finger finding my swollen clit.
The friction required a quick, determined pace to match the relentless pounding at my back.
Hunter didn't hold back, his pelvis knocking hard against my ass with each deep thrust, stretching me out until the heat inside my core reached a boiling point.
A silver sedan zoomed past on Route 29, the brief rush of its tires on asphalt echoing through the open window. The outside world counted for absolutely nothing besides the feel of Hunter's dick filling me up so good.
My cries of ecstasy filled the small cabin, the sound melting into the rush of the country wind.
The friction of my finger combined with the hard bottoming out of his shaft pushed me straight over the precipice.
A quick, intense climax clenched my inner muscles into violent spasms, and Hunter let out a loud groan, his body going stiff as he fell over the edge with me, emptying his load deep inside my walls.
The yellow cotton sundress dropped back into place softly, concealing the sticky warmth between my thighs. Hunter pulled his denim jeans up over his hips, tucked his length away, and secured the copper button with a quick, efficient twist of his wrist.
A single vault over the seatback placed him right back behind the steering wheel. The key turned in the ignition, and the V8 roared back to life, the steady throb returning to the floorboards.
The green digital numbers on the dashboard clock lit up, displaying a time that shattered my remaining post-coital calm.
A rapid mental calculation confirmed the worst. The hotel check-in window closed forty-five minutes ago, and the prelude to Amberleigh’s grand procession started in exactly thirty minutes.
There was zero time to utilize a proper mirror or a bathroom vanity.
The vehicle represented the dressing room now.
"We are officially in a crisis zone," the words came out fast as my eyes locked onto the green display. "I'll have to change while you drive."
Hunter’s jaw set into a determined line as his foot mashed the accelerator.
The tires squealed against the gravel shoulder, throwing a spray of small rocks against the undercarriage before the K5 peeled off onto Route 29, the speedometer needle sweeping rapidly to the right to try and make it in time.
"Don't worry about me," he called out over the roar of the wind, his eyes fixed on the empty highway ahead. "I perfected the Superman outfit change back in college. Just focus on getting yourself together. Once we pull up to the venue, I'll be dashing in three seconds flat."
The urgency required immediate logistics. A quick scramble over the seat placed my knees in the rear cargo area. My arms dove straight into the depths of the trunk space, fingers wrapping around the zipper of the garment bag to haul out my dress and makeup case before the next sharp turn.