Banging Wheels Read Free

to delicate, his fingers coming to rest on that moist mound of hers, her flimsy satin panties the last remaining obstacle. My God, she was aching for it. Months and months of using that toy in her drawer, mechanically relieving herself like it was just another function to fulfill — wanting something more real, but not feeling like she was ready for it. But boy, did she ever feel ready for it now. She gasped again as she felt his fingers on her skin, sliding under the elastic of her underwear, teasing their way down, down, across the stubble where she had shaped her own pubic hair. Damn, she’d have gone for a wax if she’d known. Down they went until she felt them gently brushing her most intimate parts, to another giddy involuntary sound.
    Within moments her satin panties lay on the floor, joined by his boxers, the hotel room now looking like a hurricane had torn through a rummage sale. He knelt proudly between her thighs, fixing her a naughty look as he unrolled a condom down the length of his shaft. Dammit, she liked a man who knew what he was doing, even if that did seem a little, well, practiced. His gaze switched between her and his own offering, guiding her eyes in one last game of anticipation.
    Enough — just take me already!
    Finally (finally!) he eased inside her. She gave a shudder as he slowly filled her up right up to the hilt — she was so impossibly wet that she offered no friction whatsoever. She squeezed tightly, gripping him, and felt him tense up in return, savoring the pleasure himself, before getting into a rhythm. At this point with her ex she would often reach down to touch herself, to help herself on her way, but tonight there was no need — she could already feel the waves of an orgasm lapping up her shoreline.
    “Oh God! Oh God!”
    Spurred on, he ground harder and deeper, letting out his own deep moans of pleasure and screwing up his eyes. He was close too, that much she could tell. Harder and faster still he went, sending her nearer and nearer. She was right on the cusp when she felt him starting to lose control, giving out great manly gasps, banging into her spasmodically. She let go, right as he exploded inside her, joining him in a frenzy of flickering eyes, open mouths and exaltation, their backs arching in some great orgasmic stretch, her mouth spilling out all kinds of noises.
    Finally, she collapsed, lying there in sticky haze of fuzziness and conjoined skin. And there she lay with him for quite some time, stuck to him in a mound of sweat and lost thoughts, before drifting off into a deep sleep.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    She woke the next morning naked and tangled up in a wreck of sheets, wondering where the hell she was, and then remembering. A double bed and the smell of vaguely-familiar man. She waved her arms about, expecting another body, but met with no obstacles, no flesh.
    Ah, yeah. Okay. She’d slept with the jerk in the bar. Her mind wandered back. What the hell had she been thinking? He was exactly the opposite of what she needed in her life.
    She slid to the edge of the bed. Her clothes were still strewn about the floor, but his were no longer tangled up in them. He must be in the bathroom. She slipped her panties back on and snapped her bra into place in search of some semblance of dignity, then knocked on the bathroom door. It pushed open — dark, empty. The hotel room wasn’t big and there was nothing in there — no clothes, no nothing. Not a sign that he’d even been there. Except maybe his smell on the pillow, and the sense of being used — in a good way — down below. Oh, and the sense of conflict in her head. Boy, had she needed that, even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself. But it might have been nice to wait for someone who wasn’t a jerk. And while it was nice to be spared the awkwardness of waking up next to him, and despite having regrets of her own, it still felt kind of insulting that he’d pretty much run away,