Page 64 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

The sound of his belt jingling as he undoes it pulls me from my thoughts, and I finally look at him. He’s gripping his hard cock, a bead of pre-cum glistening, begging for me to lick it off. I run my tongue over my teeth.

“I’m waiting.” He taps his finger on his thigh and strokes himself with his other hand. I watch him glide up and down his cock as his thumb sweeps over the crown, dragging the wetness. He groans and his head falls back to the seat.

Just when did this situation get so fucking hot? I guess I could use the release before I face my parents.

One orgasm on that beautiful dick won’t hurt.

When I get up, he points to the glove box. “Condom.” He breathes.

“You have condoms in the glove box already?” I pop open the compartment and a brand new box appears. I grab one and toss it to him.

“One… we like to fuck. That’s nothing new. Two… It's no different than keeping them in my wallet, albeit probably a little safer. Three… I’ve never had a car before and apparently it is a thing to leave them in there.”

I choose not to ruin his moment and tell him I’ve never heard of someone leaving condoms in the glove box. Maybe it’s a guy thing and I don’t want to bring attention to the fact that he just claimed this car.

He rolls the condom on, moving his seat all the way back, and helps to guide me. He rolls my skirt up and moves my panties to the side before I even get to his lap like it’s the most important task he’s ever completed.

My climb over the center console is a little lackluster and could use some more finesse, but I make it, and when I slide down his glorious length, my breath eases out of me. My stress rolls away as I stretch myself around him and ride like never before. It isn’t graceful and probably not even sexy, but Riggs is enjoying himself. At least it looks that way when I glance down at him to see those icy blues and find he has his head tossed back, his lips slightly parted.

“Do you like it when I ride your cock, Jester?” He groans, his hands falling to my waist where he grips me, squeezing like I might disappear at any moment. He buries his face in my tits and inhales my scent. When his head rocks back to the headrest, his lashes flutter and pure ecstasy dominates his features.

“Doyoulike it when you ride my cock?” he asks. The hands on my hips don’t wait for an answer to form on my lips, instead they encourage me to move once more, drawing a moan from my throat. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

The next moan is my response. It’s long, breathy and spurs him on. He forces my movements to happen faster and faster. I bounce on my knees, driving his dick deeper and deeper with each downward motion until I’m practically begging for release.

“Come with me, Outlaw. I need to feel you squeezing me.” I let out a feral cry as Riggs grunts, letting out our release together.

“Jester!” I squeal when Riggs tweaks my clit. I’m so lost in sensation I don’t even notice him fishing under my skirt. “What are you doing?”

“Come again,” he demands, leaning forward to take my earlobe in his mouth. I sigh, melting into him, too tired to come again, so I just let him work my body into it. There’s nothing intense about the way he rubs soft circles around my clit, sucking the skin of my neck, and pumping his body into mine, half-hard, but the pleasure is overwhelming. I have no idea which touch to focus on, so I let all of them swallow me whole until I’m crying out with my second orgasm, burying my face in the crook of his neck and biting the muscle of his shoulder. “That’s my girl.”

It’s been a few minutes of me sitting in Riggs’ lap, his sated dick still inside of me, when a knock comes on the window. I jump with a start, embarrassment flaming in my cheeks and fear blossoming in my chest that it might be my parents. I peer out at a figure dressed all in black who has moved back from the car, respecting our privacy.Chandler. Might as well be my parents.

How mortifying. I’m all for chasing a thrill, but not in front of Chandler. He’s like a father to me.

Awkward.

I groan as Riggs rolls the window down, his free hand making sure we’ve covered everything by rearranging my skirt.

Chandler clears his throat, averting his gaze to stare at the house as he speaks. “Your father is aware that you are in the driveway. I’ve tried to distract him, but… um… he isn’t having it any further and has just radioed that he is coming down here. I told him I would usher you in. He’s getting concerned.”

Letting my forehead fall to Riggs’ collarbone, I say, “Thanks, Chandler. I’m sorry, we got a little carried away.” Being the professional that he is, Chandler doesn’t let his smile show. It simply sparkles in his eyes.

“No worries. I get it,” he says, and I wonder if he does. I’ve never seen Chandler with anyone before. He’s never spoken about a wife or children, even though he’s been here for as long as I can remember. What a pity. A lonely life to live. Chandler deserves better, but everyone makes their own choices. He doesn’t have to work for my parents if he doesn’t want to. Maybe one day he’ll choose a different path.

Lattes sitin front of us on the coffee table of my parents' grand family room. Mom hasn’t taken her eyes off Riggs for at least three minutes straight and Dad keeps sighing. The introduction went well, but I know for a fact my mother noticed his ratty shoes and faded jeans. The only thing that has kept her from losing her mind is the Audi sitting in the driveway. She can’t figure it out and it’s driving her nuts. Why would someone who drives such a nice car appear the way he does?

Of course, she won’t openly say it, but her judgment is painfully fucking obvious.

I have to give Riggs credit. He hasn’t stumbled one bit. Every question they’ve sent his way he’s answered without wavering and he’s been so respectful it’s even weirding me out. We hadn’t planned for him to come in but my father indeed came out to the car, so there was no avoiding the meeting.

At least if he leaves me because of them, my post orgasm bliss won’t let me feel it until later.

“Riggs, what is it you do for a living?” Mom asks. While that is a simple question to answer by telling the truth, I know she is asking it because he might be a gold digger and after my money, and that concerns her. It makes me want to scream because Riggs works hard as shit for everything he has. Sure, it isn’t much, but he gets by. Regardless if my parents think he should support me, I don’t need his money.

Now, after our talk with Mr. Tucker, he has more money than I do. I want to blurt everything out and tell my parents it’s none of their damn business, but I know this will go smoother if they get their questions out.

Then, the sooner we can get my shit and leave.

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