So my FWB picks me up at midnight after he gets off work, driving what I dub his “sexy car” (a classic Firebird) and we head back to his place. I’m a fan of this car for many reasons (the seats go very far back, and the height of the hood is perfect for *several* positions) but chief among them has to be how easy it is to reach over and grope him while we head wherever we’re heading. Nothing too distracting, just teasing strokes, my fingertips dancing across his cock through his jeans…
I already told him via several steamy texts that I might be in a teasing mood, having fun getting him all worked up and making him wait… in his response he said he was pretty sure that would torture me too. Well, he wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t going to stop me from trying.
We get to his place and it’s a nice night, so he convinces a fire to settle into the fire pit and we sit just inside his garage while it burns. It’s dark out, but we’re still sitting essentially out in the open, and my hand wanders over his belt, undoing the buckle. I drag a fingernail down his fly, then squeeze him briefly. “This is fun,” I tell him, taking a sip of my drink and a nice, firm hold of him through his jeans. He groans a little and I let go, letting my hand wander some more. I toy with the button of his pants for a moment before I undo it… and then I ever so slowly drag down his zipper. His cock is already trying desperately to get free, and I squeeze him again. “You seem to agree?”
“Maybe,” he says. “And I bet you’re going to claim you’re just fine over there. Not wet at all.”
“Oh, not in the slightest,” I say, grinning. He’s looking at me with heat in his eyes, gaze occasionally flickering to the brightly lit kitchen we can see through the porch sliding glass doors. “Worried your spouse might walk out and catch us?” I tease, a long-running joke between us. We’ve been fucking with his spouse’s permission for months now. He laughs and moves his own hand, sliding it down my thigh and under my skirt.
“Wouldn’t that be embarrassing,” he says, fingers sliding past the lacy panties I’m wearing, teasing caresses across my cunt. “Liar,” he adds, pressing a finger deeper inside me. I *was* lying, obviously. I’m soaked at this point. “Tease… toying with me while you’re secretly desperate for me to fuck you… I bet you’d let me bend you over and take you right now… ”
“Only one way to find out,” I say, standing and sauntering further into the garage. I walk to the mini-fridge he keeps right next to his work bench, opening it and pulling out a water bottle from it. I grin when the bottle gets plucked from my hands and placed on the bench before he pushes up against me, and I brace against the little fridge. Our heights are such that even only in 2-inch kitten heels I barely have to bend over when he yanks down my panties just far enough, hikes up my skirt, and plows into me.
The garage door is still wide open, the fire still roaring not that far behind us. He grips my hips and fucks me hard, both of us still mostly clothed, me struggling to stay quiet because of the circumstances. Normally I’m quite loud…
“Take it, slut,” he growls, pulling my hair. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it.”
Fuck yes it is. I start begging him for more, for harder, and he delivers; I shudder and moan and come on his cock, and he pulls out, still hard, and tucks himself away.
“That’s all you get for now,” he says, and I nod vaguely, suddenly a little wobbly on my feet. Goddamn, it’s like I’m suddenly drunk on his cock. He smacks me on the ass as we walk back to the fire. We drink some more, hands casually all over one another, and he gets a text from his spouse, indicating they’ve woken up and will be headed out soon, which is cool. When that happens we end up moving further into the garage so his spouse and I can smoke a bowl while we listen to music and shoot the shit. I go inside the house briefly to make myself another drink and slip off my panties, bringing both back out with me. I don’t bother trying to hide them, simply setting them next to me.
It’s not long before I end up sprawled on the mattresses I was sitting on, the ones he keeps tucked in the corner of his garage. (They’re very convenient.) His spouse is sitting in a chair a couple feet away and he’s leaning against the tailgate of his truck; I catch him staring at me like he’s thinking about devouring me whole, and watch as he finally notices my panties lying next to my head. It’s a thrilling sight indeed.
His spouse asks him if he’ll make some bacon before they head to work. “Sure,” he says. “But first I have to… I have some desires…”
“Are you going to go down on me soon or what?” I ask, spreading my legs a little.
His spouse laughs. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
They’re always welcome to stay, of course, if they want, and have in the past. This time, though, we’re left alone… the door probably isn’t even latched yet when he buries his face between my legs. Fuck, is he good at this, teasing me for a long time with his tongue, revving me right up to the edge before backing away at the last second, leaving me desperate for it. I get louder, more insistent, gripping his head, and he adds a couple fingers to fuck me with… and then sucks on and hums around my aching clit. I come twice more before he pulls away and when I help him tear off his pants and underwear I grip his cock and try to give it a teasing lick, but he pushes me back against the mattress, eyes dark. He manhandles me into the position he wants and starts fucking me deep, and goddamn, it’s game over. I love it. I need it. I gasp and squirm against him and fuck myself back on his cock when he slows down, teasing me some more, grabbing at him to get him deeper again. He laughs and complies, my legs spread wide in the air. He’s holding me in place with a hand on my chest, almost my throat, drilling into me while I moan like a whore, matching his rhythm, coming for the fourth time that night.
He hasn’t come yet tonight, but that happens when he drinks a little too much in a short period of time. “I could keep fucking you for a while,” he says, still inside me, taking a breather. I clench my cunt around him and grin when he inhales sharply.
“You can’t, though,” I point out. “You promised you’d make bacon.”
He laughs and pulls out, leaning in close to murmur in my ear, “Maybe I’ll just have to fuck you a lot more in the morning, then.”
“Maybe you will.”
Spoiler alert: he definitely does. But that’s another story by itself…
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8j90y6/fm_trying_to_tease_him_even_in_front_of_his
Very sexy
Were you deliberately playing the pronoun game with regard to the spouse? Or do they use gender neutral pronouns?