Muffin Top

“I’m so shocked,” she said with a laugh. “What am I doing while naked?”

“Well, you’re not totally naked. You’re sort of in clothes but out of them as we’re driving down the highway.”

Original? Not really, but with Lucy just about everything turned into a sex fantasy for him.

“Okay, I’m game. Give me some specifics.”

Of course she was. The woman was fucking fierce. More than anything else, it was that attitude that turned him on most.

“Your shirt’s unbuttoned.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw her lift her right hand and reach for the top button of her flowy blue top. She slipped one button out of the hole, then the next one and the next until her shirt was open, revealing her amazing tits encased in a bright red bra. Red. Of course it was. Just like the woman, the color was a warning and a promise. He fucking loved it.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and took a look down the long, straight highway. There was no one but them.

“The next thing you do in my fantasy is take out those gorgeous tits of yours.”

Lucy didn’t even blink. Instead, without hesitation, she tugged down on the satin material of her bra until her breasts came free. Yeah, he was driving, but there was no way he was going to miss taking a good look at her like that. It was like he’d been imagining, her half undone with a lusty look in her eyes as she bit down on her full lower lip.

His cock pressed against his thigh, aching at the sight of her. Then she upped it, pinching one hard nipple between her fingers and rolling it.

In an act of extreme sacrifice, he peeled his focus off her and back on the boring, straight line of a highway that went on for a fucking eternity. He should have kept his big mouth shut. There wasn’t a pull-off site or hotel for miles.

Lucy shifted in the passenger seat, turning so that her back was to the passenger door and she was facing him, legs spread as far as possible in the car’s confines. “And how about I add a little of this.”

Before he could even dream up what might happen next, she one-upped his fantasy by inching the hem of her skirt up until she was showing off her red-satin-covered mound. And if that wasn’t enough to turn his knuckles white with the effort of not reaching out to touch her, he spotted the tell-tale damp spot right in the center of her panties.

If he thought he’d been hard before, he learned different at that moment, because the mutual one-upmanship of this fantasy had turned him to steel. It wasn’t that she was just humoring him, giving him a little glimpse of what he wanted. No. Lucy didn’t play that bullshit game. His woman always gave as good as she got, and it got her all slick and wet.

“Is this turning you on, Lucy?”

She relaxed against the door, one hand on her thigh and the other tugging on a nipple. “Even more than Wonder Woman’s invisible plane.”

He was going to die of frustration right here in Scarlett’s driver’s seat in the middle of nowhere in farm country. “At least you can do something about it. I’m driving.”

“You mean something like this?” she asked as she continued to play with her tits, cupping and squeezing them, rolling the nipples to hard points.

The speed limit might have been sixty-five, but Scarlett’s speed had dropped down to thirty-five as he watched Lucy torment him with such enthusiastic glee that he almost forgot that she’d taken control of his little fantasy and made it bigger, better, and almost more than he could bear.

“Or maybe,” she said, her voice low and breathy. “You meant I could take it a step further.”

And that’s when she tried to kill him by moving the hand that had been resting on her bare thigh higher. His lungs burned from holding his breath, but as he watched her slide her fingers under the damp center of her panties, he knew there were only a maximum of two things he could do at one time and those two were watch Lucy and keep the car on the road. Breathing be damned.

Every second he had to divert his attention from the sight of her fingers circling her clit under her panties to check the road made him want to scream with frustration. It made him want to pull over and sink his face down between her thighs and lick up all that sweetness. He was more than half tempted to do that right now, but Lucy was the master of this fantasy. It may have started as his, but she was in charge now, and if she wanted him to pull over, she would have told him.

“Tell me how that feels,” he demanded. He may not be able to touch her right now, but he could give her his voice, his dirty thoughts to crank up the intensity a little more, just like she liked it. “How slick is that pussy right now?”