Chapter 112 - Four-Wheel S.e.x drive

My new boyfriend loves for me to talk dirty in bed. He wants to hear more than just the usual, "f.u.c.k me harder, baby" and "lick my p.u.s.s.y this way or that" type of thing.

Jeff seems determined to relive my s.e.x.u.a.l Rolodex of past experiences. To be honest, I began to run dry of stories to share—or could it be short-term memory loss? Anyway, One of Jeff's friends is super hot, so the other night when he was kissing his way down my body, whispering for me to tell him something hot I'd done, I closed my eyes and thought about how and where I wouldn't mind getting it on with his wingman, Frank.

We'd already flopped onto the bed, fully clothed. Jeff was s.u.c.k.i.n.g on my neck and working his hand up my shirt to grope at my t.i.t.s when I asked, "Did I ever tell you about the time I screwed two guys?" He froze for a split second, making me nervous, but then I felt his d.i.c.k twitch through his jeans. "Tell me," he urged, while raising my shirt to accommodate his mouth. I began telling him how it was during my first year of college and that two guys were into me and they happened to be friends with one another. One night after partying, we were all driving home in one of the guys' big 4-wheel drive truck. I claimed to my boyfriend that by now I couldn't remember their names, so I'd just refer to them as driver and passenger.

Driver was keeping his eyes on the road, which I found boring, so amused myself with his zipper. Once it was down, his c.o.c.k naturally sprang out—fully erect. My boyfriend unzipped his own pants and started stroking himself slowly, s.u.c.k.i.n.g my n.i.p.p.l.es and listening intently. A hard c.o.c.k and my pumping fist—the only thing missing was my mouth, which I remedied immediately. I took the gum out of my mouth and stuck it to the dashboard and then went down on him like a sword swallower. Driver put his hand on the back of my head, guiding my face f.u.c.k, and he felt like he got harder with every stroke. I'd been hunched over the seat on my knees, easy access for curious fingers, which it turns out Passenger had. His hand was up my skirt and weaving past my panty crotch like he had a map. While I was talking, I m.o.a.n.e.d how good it felt what Jeff was doing—and it did. I replaced his rhythmic strokes with my hand and he began fingering me; churning my wetness while f.u.c.k.i.n.g into my fist. Getting a feel of my slippery p.u.s.s.y made Passenger want more, and I heard him unzip himself and call my name. I pulled off Driver

and bent over the bench seat, crawling back just far enough to reach Passenger's c.o.c.k. He held it up, leaning it toward my mouth and I teased the tip with my tongue. Passenger lifted his h.i.p.s to f.u.c.k upward into my mouth, holding my face steady in his hands. My t.i.t.s had popped out from the top of my dress and were dangling over the seat. Passenger cupped each in his hands and g.r.o.a.n.e.d at how horny this ride home had become.

My boyfriend's d.i.c.k was oozing pre-c.u.m and I smeared it around on his c.o.c.k head. Jeff's finger f.u.c.k got serious; he was working my c.l.i.t with his thumb and salivating back and forth between my t.i.t.s. I didn't remember Driver pulling over, but obviously he had because he was suddenly wrestling his pants down far enough for him to maneuver behind me, bent over the seat. I was hungry to feel him penetrate me with his stiff hard c.o.c.k, but instead I felt the warm softness of his mouth clamp over my p.u.s.s.y. Driver's nose was nuzzling against my a.s.s as he lapped up my girl juice with a greedy thirst. My enthusiasm translated to the c.o.c.k I was s.u.c.k.i.n.g, and Passenger started slamming into my face without reservation.

My boyfriend was f.u.c.k.i.n.g me by now— completely lost in the image of me getting

tapped in both ends. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in with my

grind, whispering and groaning in his ear how I s.u.c.k.e.d Passenger's c.o.c.k.

I'm sure Driver had been jerking himself while s.u.c.k.i.n.g my clam, because when he moved to f.u.c.k me doggie, he was dripping even before shoving himself inside my damp tightness. He gripped my h.i.p.s, pressing them hard against the seat back and slap f.u.c.k.e.d in and out of me. I felt myself c.u.m.m.i.n.g at that moment. I growled in Jeff's ear, "I'm about to c.u.m right now!" then helped him to fire off by telling him I'd puckered my mouth and flicked my tongue, savouring the feeling of Passenger's c.u.m shooting up into my mouth—such hot, sticky bursts of cream. Right then I could feel Driver's load emptying inside my p.u.s.s.y from behind. Throughout my fantasy I'd imagined my boyfriend Jeff as the driver and his wingman, Frank, as the passenger. I sure hope I didn't cry out the wrong name while I was getting off.