Christa Read Free

room wanted you.”
    Marc let out a snort of laughter.
    â€œIt’s true! They did. You were tall, dark and handsome. And a medical student. A total catch.” Christa pushed her fingers back inside her and lazily continued to draw the wetness up and around her clit.
    The lights changed and Marc accelerated off down the freeway as she continued to finger herself. She could hear his laboured breathing and reached across to rub the bulge in his jeans. He groaned and pushed her hand away.
    â€œThat whole night, all I could concentrate on was how you watched me. Every time I looked around, you were there. Do you remember?”
    He grunted in assent.
    â€œYou didn’t come over and try to meet me, just stared at me for about three hours. By the end of the night my panties were soaked and I wanted to jump out of my skin. You were like a predator watching its prey.”
    She started rubbing her clit with more force, starting a slow build. Marc’s breathing was more ragged and the bulge in his jeans more pronounced.
    â€œMy friends were horrified when you finally came over to me and whispered in my ear that we needed to go. Did I ever tell you? They thought you were some weird serial killer, the way you stared at me. But you saw me, didn’t you?”
    Marc turned from the traffic and smiled at her, a smile full of love.
    â€œFrom that first night you knew. Knew I need to be seen. The first orgasm I ever had was in the car that night with you, doing what I’m doing now. I never told you that, did I?”
    He shook his head, still silent. The love and burning desire in his eyes almost tipped her over the edge.
    Christa laughed, then drew in a ragged breath as they drove beside a truck. Marc slowed to keep level with the driver’s cabin. This was always the best part. She glanced up through her window and started to rub her clit in earnest.
    â€œLook at me, look at me,” she muttered, and heard Marc snicker beside her. He kept his eyes on the road, but took occasional glances at her cunt as she pulled herself higher and higher to her peak. Each time he watched her pleasuring herself, she jerked as if he’d touched her.
    Finally, the truck driver let his gaze wander toward her and his eyes widened, watching her fingers work frantically against her clit. She came with groan from deep in her belly. Marc sped up away from the truck. The sound of an appreciative truck horn made them both laugh.
    The wild, despairing man she’d picked up at the airport was thawing out and becoming the Marc she knew and loved. He could be taciturn to most, but not to her. Never to her.
    They made it to their harbourside house in record time. As soon as the front door closed behind them, Marc dragged her to the dining room and bent her forward over the table.
    â€œYes! Now, now, now,” she begged him.
    He hiked up her dress, pushed down his jeans and thrust hard into her.
    â€œAh, God!” he groaned. “For weeks I’ve dreamed of this moment. Your cunt is mine.”
    She braced herself against the table and pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts. God, how she loved this particular ritual. His cock was hot and vital, filling the month-long ache she always had when he was away. It was as if he had to connect to life through an orgasm with her before he could re-enter their world. He held her hips and let himself go, pounding into her, creating her favourite sound, flesh against flesh.
    She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him.
    â€œHarder,” she hissed. “I’ve been without your cock for a month. Fuck me harder.”
    He grinned at her and did just that, but all of a sudden he pulled out.
    â€œWhat…” she started to protest.
    He turned her over, lifting her legs to rest against his chest, then plunged back into her, all the time watching his cock go in and out of her glistening pussy. “Touch yourself again,” he demanded.
    She smiled at