by Shandi Boyes
“That’s a real shame you can’t admit to loving sex. What year is it? I thought all that chauvinistic shit died in the eighties?”
"Ha! I wish." Lola tilts my way before crossing one killer high heel over the other. "It only grew worse as the misandrists’ numbers climbed, except now, they're not just hating on men, they hate strong-willed women as well."
I wait for a semi to roar past my window before asking, “Misandrists?”
Her teeth rake her lips in a sexy-as-fuck way. “Manhaters. Pretty much the woman who made you believe that outfit is sexy.” She wiggles her fingers over my khaki pants and long-sleeve shirt.
"You think man-haters are responsible for my choice in clothing?"
"Yep!" The “p” pops from her mouth. "Don't get me wrong, you give off a real playful vibe, but I had to dig through all of that to find it..." She once again waves her hand over my outfit. "You're lucky you stumbled upon me when you did, or your night might have been occupied with a lady who has severe attachment issues, or even worse, one who wants to call you Daddy."
I vomit a little in my mouth. That’s precisely the woman I was sprinting from tonight.
Although she hit the nail on the head, I play it cool. If I show my hand to a woman like Lola too quickly, I’ll be out of the game by the first round. “If my outfit is sooo concerning, why did you get in my car?”
She smiles a slick grin. “As I said earlier, I’m not the one in danger here.”
"And I am?" My voice is as high as my brow.
She rakes her eyes down my body, only stopping when she reaches the crotch of my pants she so vehemently despises. "Uh-huh. Because if I acted on a single thought currently rolling through my head, you'd not only race back to the date you were fleeing when you noticed me at the bus stop; you'd cry into her bosoms while her mommy fixed the naughty wolf’s bite."
“You don’t think I can handle you?” I’m fucking confident I can’t, but I want to hear it directly from the source.
Her eyes return to my face. “I don’t think anything, Jacob. I know you can’t handle me.”
My dick becomes chummy with the seam in my pants from her purring my name. It was throaty and filled with a need as desperate as the fire burning in her eyes for me to prove her wrong.
“I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve than you’re giving me credit for.”
"Is that so?" Fuck me; her voice could only be hotter if it were lava spilling out of a volcano. "Is that why they're three sizes too big, so you can hide your tricks up there?"
“Maybe?” I swish my tongue around my mouth, loosening up my next set of words. I could never be accused of being overly cocky, but I’m done denying the tension brimming between us. Stranger or not, it’s too fucking intense to ignore. “Or maybe I like throwing out challenges. No one likes predictability, Lola.” I express her name as huskily as she did mine. “Once you’re predictable, no one is interested anymore—not even khaki-wearing nobodies who’d give their left nut to stumble upon a girl like you just once in their lifetime.”
I see her response in her eyes, hear it hissing on her tongue, but our arrival at Bronte's Peak steals her words. Bronte's Peak is a popular hookup location halfway between Lola's hometown of Erkinsvale and my stomping ground of Ravenshoe. People only come here for one reason—to fuck.
I'll shut this down faster than a married man sidestepping a paternity test if I've read Lola wrong. But if I haven't, and our electricity is as strong on her side of the car, I'll show her all the tricks I'm hiding, and then some.
The rise and fall of Lola’s chest increases when I glide my car to a spot at the very end of the lot. I’m not seeking a secluded location. It’s just too packed for me to park closer to the exit. I shut down my engine, push my seat back until it almost becomes one with my back seat, then angle my torso to Lola. She’s eyeing me through lowered lids, her breaths as shallow as mine, her hope just as high.
When I jerk up my chin, commanding her to my side of the car, a grin that will forever highlight my dreams stretches across her face. “You can’t be accused of corruption when the victim comes to you.”
The tension crackling between us intensifies when I tilt nearer to her. “Does a victim also drive himself to the crime scene?”
Her smile grows. "Not usually, but there's a first time for everything."
“True. Tonight’s the first—”
“Time you’ve brought a girl to Bronte’s Peak? Why am I not surprised? You seem very innocent.”
"That wasn't what I was going to say." I bring my mouth even closer to hers before angling my head to the side so we share the same air. "I was going to say, it's the first time I've let another man feed my date before stealing her for dessert."
"Who said I'm dessert? There's not an ounce of sweetness in me, Jacob..."
Her words trail off when our lips brush for the briefest second. It creates an immense amount of friction between us, as blistering as the heated breath she expels when I sink back into my seat.
After taking in the way she licks her lip, hoping for another taste of my mouth, I drop my eyes to the minute portion of air between her knees and the dashboard. The only way I'll squeeze into that tight space is by time-traveling back to when I was a toddler—and even then, it would be a tight fit. If she wants this to go further than an innocent peck, she needs to make it a possibility.
Perceiving things the same as me, Lola huffs before climbing over the middle console to straddle my lap. Some people may see her forwardness as off-putting. I’m anything but ordinary. I fuckin’ love it.
She must be pretty damn uncomfortable wedged between me and my steering wheel, but her sexy voice does not indicate this. "When I destroy you, remember it was you who chose to walk this path, Jacob, not me.”
She waits for me to nod before sealing her mouth over mine. Gone is the flirty stranger who spoke her mind without a second thought, replaced by a tigress who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to get it.
My heart beeps in my neck when her tongue traces the seam of my lips before delving it between them. When she purrs a cock-twitching moan, I get in on the action. I bite down on her lip before dragging my tongue along the roof of her mouth.
Hot. Fucking. Damn. She tastes as scrumptious as she looks.
We kiss for several minutes, the heat fueling our exchange undeniable. The windows fog, my pants pitch a tent, and Lola's panties dampen so much, I'm confident my crotch will wear her wet spot for hours to come.
By the time she pulls back, I’m praying she doesn’t have any rules about not fucking on the first date. Although this isn’t technically a date, I’m more than happy to pretend it is. I’ll promise to take her to the most expensive steakhouse in town once we’re done if it keeps this going.
Lola’s minty breath fans my lips when she purrs, “I guess it’s true.”
“What’s true?” I give her ass a frisky squeeze while pretending cum isn’t sitting at the crest of my cock, begging to be released. I may have never sampled a mouth as delicious as hers, but that doesn’t mean I’m free to make an idiot out of myself. I told her I had tricks. Premature ejaculation is not a trick I want to showcase.
“Guys with big hands...” Her micro skirt rides up high on her thighs when she grinds down on my cock. “Have big dicks.”
I don’t know whether to groan or laugh, so I do both. “I’m glad you approve.”
It’s true, I do have the world’s biggest hands, but I'd look pretty stupid being a giant with the hands of a boy. I guess the same rules apply to my cock?
My cock hardens even more when the flare of her skirt rides up high enough I catch the quickest glimpse of her panties. They're skimpy and made of lace, a combination designed to bring men to their knees. We just met, so I know she didn't wear these for me, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate them.
Wanting to test the waters, I push her skirt up a little higher, wondering if she'll stop me. She doesn't. As she inches back to peer at me with wide, lus
t-filled eyes, she wiggles her hips, turning her micro-skirt into a belt. Like things could get any more scandalous, she snakes her hand between the minute gap between us to stroke my cock through my pants. "Car sex isn't about slow sensual lovemaking, Jacob. It's for quick, hard fucking—"
“And a prelude of escapades to come?”
Her lips furl at my assumption there's going to be a second time, but when I tug my pants down my thighs, her words get stuck in the back of her throat. Jack and Rose might have had romantics believing car sex is a romantic rendezvous with lots of slow kissing and teasing touches, but everyday Americans know real life isn't a movie production. Car sex is uncomfortable as it comes, but oh so fucking worth it.
Does that mean Lola risks leaving our meeting unsatisfied? Not a fucking chance in hell. It just means I can’t take my time with her—yet. There’ll be no laying her out and sampling her body for hours on end. We’ll fuck hard and fast, then, at a better time and place, I’ll take my time with her.
As I drag my cock through her wet folds, Lola cracks open her purse, pulls out a three-strip of condoms, rips one open with her teeth, then raises herself onto her knees.
“Jesus…” I swear her whole body shudders when she drinks in my cock for the first time, making him bigger and meaner than he’s ever been. “You’ve got to have something better than this, right?” She waves the standard regular-size condom you pick up at every drugstore before lowering her eyes back to my cock. “This isn’t going to fit, and I can’t touch that…” Her eyes widen as she takes in my dick. “…without this…” She wiggles the rubber ring in her hand "…so I hope you started your date as well-prepared as me."
I nudge my head to the glove compartment. “I’ve got my bases covered.”
Faster than I can snap my fingers, Lola snags a Magnum Trojan condom from the box of ten in my glove compartment, returns to her kneeling position, rips open the foil with her teeth, then glides the snuggly fitting condom down my shaft. If she ended things right now, I’d still die a happy man. I’ve never seen a more erotic sight in my life than a sexy little hellion prepping me to get down and dirty.
Her eagerness to get things started is unearthed when the headlights of a vehicle at the top of the lot shine into my car. It’s not a late-night visitor who's finished and heading home. It's the high beams of a patrol vehicle.
“If you want this, Jacob, you better hurry the hell up.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. With my hand weaved through her hair, her panties slipped to the side, and my eyes locked on the two officers approaching the first line of unsuspecting motorists, I slam home.
“Fuck!” Lola’s teeth munch on her bottom lip as her head flops back. When her pussy throbs around me, protesting my sudden penetration, I freeze, hating that I’ve hurt her.
Lola takes advantage of my frozen state to ride my cock. She slides up and down my shaft, the lubricant included in the condom packaging aiding in her endeavor. She’s wet, but you need more than natural lubrication to take all of me. Yeah, yeah, I know it makes me sound cocky, but it’s also the truth.
As the police officers approach vehicles three and four down a long line of many, I use my grip on Lola's hip and hair as leverage to guide her up and down my cock. We rock as one, our natural rhythm found extremely quick for two strangers.
I nearly come just as fast when Lola brings her lips to my ear. “Just the thought of gagging on your cock makes me want to suck it so bad.”
I’m an inferno right now—hot all over. We fuck like wild animals, the thrusts of my hips enough to mess Lola’s hair with the lining on my car’s roof. I drive home on repeat, ramping up her moans with every pump. Her screams encourage me to go harder, more violently.
I shove down my pants even further, then spread my knees are far as they can go in the tight confines. Once I’ve got her glorious ass between my thighs, I raise mine off the seat and jackknife my hips up on repeat. My balls slap her ass with every frantic grind as her screams turn ear-piercing.
“Jesus... Fucking... Christ.”
When the tingles racing through her body are felt all the way to my balls, I bury myself into her as far as I can, then rock my hips up in slow, dedicated thrusts. When my pelvis grinds against her clit, she screams so loudly, I know she's on the cusp of orgasm.
“Come on, Lola. Bring it home.” I’d rather have my ass hauled off to jail for public indecency than have her leave unsatisfied. “Scream my name for the world to hear.”
Her head falls forward with a moan as the shudders coating her skin with goosebumps spread to her nape. “I’m close… so fucking close.”
I add a swivel to my hips, praying it will give her the final push. I don’t even care if I don’t come, but I sure as hell don’t want her heat dismounting my cock until she does.
It appears my wish is about to come true when she digs her nails into my shoulders. Her breathing turns wild as her pussy tightens around me; then, not long after that, she shatters like glass.
When I slow the speed of my pumps to guide her through her blinding climax, her lusty eyes drop to mine. “Don’t stop. Please, whatever you do, don’t stop. Real girls power through the craziness. It’s better this way.”
I return to my previous pace before she came. I thrust into her on repeat, pounding into her with everything I have until her screams grow so loud, I have to stifle them with my hand. She's making such a ruckus, the fog on my windows won't be the only reason the police officers skip the dozen cars between us. It's her vocal announcement of what we're doing.
How good I feel.
How wet she is.
And the best yet, “Oh, God, I’m coming—again!”
Her confirmation arrives a mere three seconds before a baton taps on the window next to my head. Mercifully, it also occurs two seconds after cum rockets out of my cock.
Chapter Two
Jacob
With a misdemeanor citation sitting over the box of Magnum condoms in my glove compartment, I restarted our drive to Lola’s house almost forty minutes ago. We’ve made the trip in silence. I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily uncomfortable. Lola just needs some time to recoup from her two mind-blowing orgasms. I could spark a conversation, but since I’m still riding the same high, my mouth refuses to cooperate with the prompts of my brain.
Tonight was—fuck, I don't have words to describe it. I knew from the moment my eyes landed on Lola that she was different from the other girls I've dated. I just had no clue how different. Most have a three-date rule before granting me access to their cookie jar. Lola awarded me an all-inclusive backstage pass within twenty minutes of meeting her.
I’ll admit, I’m shocked my boldness worked, but as Lola said earlier, we're consenting adults who enjoy sex. Despite the citation in my glove compartment, our car romp didn't harm anyone. It was too fucking good to spark controversy, and I can't wait for round two.
I realize how easy things were handed to me tonight when, within two seconds of entering the driveway of a small but modern brick house in the middle of the burbs, Lola throws open her door, dives out of my car, then charges down the sidewalk. “Thanks for the ride.”
What the fuck?
I throw off my seatbelt so fast, it hits my window before ricocheting back. While rubbing the new bump on my forehead, I peel out of my car and chase her down. My calves scream with every step I take, their earlier cramped conditions not forgotten, but nothing slows me down.
“Do you wanna grab that bite to eat next weekend? I guarantee you’ll make it all the way through your steak this time. Scouts honor.” I cross my heart in an entirely wrong manner. “You might even get dessert this time around—real dessert.”
Lola freezes just outside her front door, her shoulders rising and falling as she inhales big, nerve-penetrating breaths. Several long seconds pass before she pivots to face me. Gone is the big badass she’s portrayed all night, replaced with someone who looks a little petrified. “I had a great time, Jacob, but our fuck
didn’t change my stance on dating.”
“Then we’ll go on a date instead.” I nearly have her, until I stupidly add on, “We’ll just grab a beer beforehand—”
“I don’t drink beer.” Her tone is sassy, but the flare brightening her eyes moments ago is still present. “I also don’t do…” she waves her hand between us, “…this.”
“This? What’s this…” I mimic her hand gesture.
She steps closer to me, her nostrils flaring when she detects the smell of sex wafting off my skin. “You want to date.”
“Pfft. No, I don't. I just don't want you to make me look like a dawg. After what we just did, the least I can do is buy you a beer—"
“I don’t drink beer.” This confirmation comes with a stomp of her foot. I’m pleased to say it’s a wobbly stomp that reveals her body is just as achy as mine. It’s a good ache, but an ache nonetheless.
“Wine then? A cocktail? I’ll even order you a cock-sucking cowboy if you’ll agree to go out with me...as a friend.” I add on the last three words in a hurry when her smile switches to a frown. I had her at the cock-sucking cowboy part before I stupidly added the “dating” reference. “Come on, Lola, what’s the worst that could happen? You end up stranded at the bus stop after letting yourself out of my car?” That brings back the smile I’m dying to see. “You’re the Big Bad Wolf, remember? You gobble up men like a gym junkie with a lack of protein, saving us from women who think this is sexy.”
When I drag my hand down my outfit, her eyes follow it. Now I've got her. Her pointed-up nose reflects more than family genes, but she knows what's hiding beneath my baggy shorts and long-sleeve combination, and she's more than eager to test it out for the second time.
