Page 86 of The Stud

Who can possibly see us.

Who definitely can’t.

Logically, Iknowit’s idiotic.

We’re talking top cheddar of asininity.

Getting a fucking handy, in public, on a plane, by my new girlfriend who could literally get fired if anyone finds out has got to be an action worthy of the Stanley of stupidity.

Yet…here I am.

Casually sliding my shaft out of my sweats.

Sinking into her slow strokes.

Subtly heaving my hips upward to thrust in her warm grasp.

“Fuckthatsgood,” skates past my lips in a hushed tone.

“Couldn’t wait ‘til we got home,” she retorts at a similar volume, prompting my hooded glare to find hers. “Want me to stop?”

“I want you to make me come,” I gruffly confess on another lift. “And I want you to fucking swallow it, Slayer.”

Another round of airy whines precedes Arden increasing her efforts by gripping harder.

Working my entire length.

Smearing precum around and around and around the tip of my dick with the palm of her hand before slathering it down to my balls where she then cups me.

Lightly tugs.

Rolls them around and cups them again leaving me no choice but to chomp down on my bottom lip in hopes of choking down my own moans.

Fuckme,being dumb has never felt so bloody good.

Gradual pumps grow in numbers and intensity to the point I can longer command myself to remain still.

Painfully quiet, yeah, but idle to an onlooker, no.

Fuck no.

Arden harshens her hold, angles her wrist, and clutches my cock at the perfect position so that the ridges of her slick fingers add seat levitating friction to what was already the best hand job I’ve ever had.

I jerk up when she slides down.

Crumple the booklet when she tugs my nuts.

Grind into her sloppier and slipperier twisting and turning while watching the blanket inch further and further down, continuously exposing more of our taboo actions until it hits my ankles, at which point she swallows my cock.

Traps it in her throat.

Lets the soaking wet muscles constrict just enough to finish off the work of her hand.

Coming can’t be stopped, and neither can my fingers firmly planting themselves on the back of her head to guarantee she fulfils the earlier request. “Fuckyes, Slayer,” airily trickles free at the same time I savagely grab onto her messy bun. “Swallow.” Feeling her throat ceaselessly work to guzzle down the blazing bursts has me clamping my eyes shut. “Keep swallowing.” I nail my head against the back of the seat and shakily grumble the only thing I now want more than a championship this season, “Swallow every last drop for me.”

Chapter 14

Arden

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