Page 64 of Mistletoe Missus
His confident tongue parted my lips and dove inside of my mouth. The motions of his skill made sensations blast throughout me as his hand worked on the zipper of my jacket. He struggled, and I let out a tiny giggle when he grunted with frustration, and I helped him push it off my shoulders. His hands were back on me within seconds, as if he couldn’t get enough of me, and goosebumps rose to the surface.
I threw my head back as his lips traveled down my neck, and I caught sight of the fogged up windows. The heat between us had created a war with the bitter cold outside. The place where several footsteps thudded and mixed with our pleasurable sighs, but the thought of anyone catching us only excited me.
This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a dangerously daring woman who showed public affection. I didn’t have sex with men in a parked car on the side of the street. But Mitt turned me into a reckless woman, and I enjoyed every moment.
“Mitt...” I sighed.
“Such a good wife, ready to be my little slut,” Mitt breathed against my cleavage and pulled down the zipper at the side of my dress.
I wanted to catch up and frantically ran my hand up Mitt’s inner thigh. My breathing was erratic as my fingers found the zipper of his jeans and pulled the clasp down. Mitt licked his tongue up toward my shoulder and his teeth clenched my bra strap. He groaned as I worked to pull his cock free from the hole of his briefs and he peeled the strap away. His hand groped my exposed tit, and he worked in a circular motion with the pad of his thumb. I stroked his massive cock, which was fully erect, standing straight up toward the roof of the car.
Mitt dipped his head; his teeth caught my nipple between them, and he grazed enamel along the bud in painstaking agony. I whimpered and cursed as I gripped his dick in my hand, biting my nails into his tender flesh. He hissed against my breast, and his tongue flicked my nipple, causing me to shiver with desire.
His hands ran down the sides of my body until he got to the bottom of my dress. The tips of his fingers carved a path on my thighs, and his hands hitched up the puffy red material. He exposed my ass as he squeezed my cheeks and filled his hands with meaty flesh. He released my aching tit and kissed his way up until he teased my earlobe. I was mid-stroke with his dick when he bit me and sucked the flesh into his mouth, only to pop it back out.
Mitt breathed in my ear, “Straddle me, Wife. Bring that sweet, tight pussy to me.”
I gasped when Mitt lifted me off my seat. Effortlessly, he guided me down onto his lap in the driver’s seat as I faced him, and his hazel eyes were deep with yearning. He desired me desperately, and I was completely captivated by him with no escape.
I had nowhere else to go, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I was stuck in this fogged up car with a dominant man who was about to let me further into his world. Deeper inside of him,where I’d discover more than I had ever imagined, but I was right where I wanted to be.
With him. Mitt Morgan. My husband who turned out to be my everything no matter how much he tried to deny me.
“Mitt. I need you,” I sighed breathlessly.
Mitt ripped my bra in half with a wild grunt.
I gasped.
“And I need to see these beautiful tits,” Mitt admitted as he pulled back to view my breasts.
I asked in delighted surprise, “Why?”
“Because I want to watch those titties bounce while you bury my cock deep inside of you, my little slut.”
Mitt kissed me.
His frantic mouth made me delirious, my head spinning from the intoxication of his tongue. The open-mouth kiss was so deep I thought I’d never come up for air as my lungs restricted, and I’d die a happy woman. I’d suffocate from my husband’s untamed mouth. His dirty mouth as he made me into his whore so no one else could have me.
Suddenly, the car horn blared and made me jump. My backside had hit the steering wheel and caused a commotion, but I was hotter than I had ever been inside with a fire burning out of control. I didn’t want to stop; I wouldn’t break us apart and our lips remained locked.
The sound blared a second time and made me giggle against Mitt’s mouth as he cursed. His lips tore from mine and traveled down my neck in a frenzy while I caught sight of a hand laid against the tinted glass on the passenger-side door. My eyes met with a curious set as a woman caught sight of me as my husband found my tits.
He ravished them. His wetness lapped over each nipple, dragging the bud between his teeth, and he bit into my skin. Mittdidn’t stop. He couldn’t get enough of me, and the stranger’s wide-eyed shock made my pussy weep.
I was wet, uncontrolled, and slick while I gyrated against my husband’s pulsating dick.
The sensations rushing through me were wild and made me feral, causing me to cry out Mitt’s name as I threw my head back. The moment of passion consumed me, lost to everything around me, even the young woman still peering in from outside. Voices mixed in with my whimpers, and I didn’t care who watched us.
I moved slowly in Mitt’s lap, my hips rolled at a steady pace. The pleasure mounted in the pit of my belly, and he growled against the center of my chest. His hands squeezed my ass with the flesh still cupped in his hands. I was in control of the sensations buzzing inside of me as I picked up the pace and rubbed faster against his dick. The friction of his hard shaft against my clit drove me crazily close to the edge. The faster I went, the more the leather seat creaked, and the car rocked. Back and forth I raced, climbing higher and higher until I was right where I wanted to be. Ready to welcome the orgasm I had been impatiently waiting for, ready to come right onto Mitt’s pants.
I hesitated.
“I can’t...” I whispered breathlessly into Mitt’s ear. “Your pants—”
“Forget about them. Make a mess, angel. Come all over your husband’s lap,” Mitt interrupted with grunts he couldn’t contain. “I’ve been waiting for this ever since we first met.”
“Oh, fuck, Mitt,” I whimpered.
