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By the time we reached the couch we were both naked and our clothes were strewn along a path from the front door to the couch. I eased her down onto the couch on her back and knelt between her legs, gazing at her beautiful pussy with its thatch of lovely peach colored pussy hair that I loved so much covering her mound. I couldn't resist pressing my face into that fragrant thatch, running my tongue through it, not caring if a few loose strands ended up in my mouth. I slipped two fingers into her cunt coating them with her slick juices. I drew my fingers up her slit and gave her clit hood a generous coating of her juices. I could feel the firmness of her clit through its hood and when I gently spread her pussy lips I was greeted with the sight of the glistening pink tip of her clit already peeking out of its hood. I lowered my head to suck the sweet morsel into my mouth to its place of entrapment between my lips as the tip of my tongue flicked the firm little bundle of super sensitive. I bucked against his hand, wanting—needing—him to fuck me with it. I may've begged. It wouldn't surprise me. My head was swimming with a desire so intense that it made me dizzy. I took my white-knuckled left hand from its death grip on the steering wheel and grabbed his bicep, pulling toward me until I finally felt a finger slip inside. The base of his thumb rested against my clit, rubbing slowly as a second finger joined the first. I lost all sense of decorum, fucking his hand with as much vigor as I'd ever shown a cock. I was shameless. The storm curtained us, not that there was likely anyone outside to oversee—or overhear, undoubtedly—my wanton abandon. Those long fingers played me, calling my orgasm to them. Come. Come to me. Come for me. It was building fast, fueled by the wickedness of the situation. A complete stranger. In public, even. I sucked his tongue and lost myself in the greedy pleasure. As I fell into the bliss, riding wave after wave, I heard a raspy voice.
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