God, you’re so beautiful.
I glance over at you as I shift gears, smiling at you. Your lips are stretched in the most beautiful smile that makes my heart catch. I find myself pressing a little harder on the gas, determined to get you home.
You sigh and I lift my hand to rest it on your thigh. I told you I loved the dress you chose for our date when I picked you up, and I love it more now as the hem rides higher on your thighs. All that gorgeous skin just for me.
When you shift in your seat, I simply let my hand move higher until my pinkie grazes your panties. You’re wearing some barely there lace number. I stifle my moan as I trace the edge where your hip and thigh meet. It takes all I possess to resist the urge to pull the car over so I can unwrap you like a present.
When my hand cups your panty covered cunt, you mumble and turn your head to watch the dark road fly by. I’m torn between wanting to bury my hand in your curly hair so I can see your dark eyes, and keeping it right where I have it. I’ll be able to do both soon enough. For now, I just want to feel the beckoning heat of your cunt on my hand.
Will you be wet for me? When I lay you on my bed and undress you slowly, will your cunt be plump and juicy? Will you beg for my cock? Beg to come however I allow you to come?
I press down harder on the gas, inching the speedometer to eighty-five. I seek out your clit and rub it in slow circles until your whimpers reach my ears. That’s what I want to hear. Soon I’ll know the exact sound of your cries as I fuck you. The first time will be hard just so I can hear your screams as I press you into the mattress.
You mumble something as I press and tap your clit. I take my eyes off the road briefly to find you staring back, a pleading look in your gaze. The flicker of fear makes my cock grow so hard I shift in my seat.
“Ph-eee-sh. Ph-eee-sh. Shaap.” Your eyes grow larger, almost backlit in the glow of console lights.
As I turn back to watch the road, a long string of drool creeps out from around the ball gag to fall to the top of your breast. I picture it traveling over the brown curve to the tip of your nipple, your bra long since discarded and your top in tatters. I listen to your rapid breathing and knew that dribble would fall to wet what remained of your dress in any second.
I remove my hand from between your thighs, turning off our exit. I hear the creak of the rope as you increase your squirming. You’d have lovely rope burns to show if I ever decide to untie you. It’ll be a long while until I do untie you.
“Be patient, love. You’ll get what you need soon.”
I needed to hear you scream, cry, and beg. I’d definitely be getting everything I need soon enough.