Harder Faster

I had taken a wrong turn and we were screwed. The police sirens sang harshly and their dastardly blue and red lights flashed in my rear-view mirror. After our mad dash through the city, my tangled hair was whipped around my face in disarray from the open window. This, I fancied, gave me the picture-perfect image I wanted, that of some sexy female animal, amped on adrenaline. Six miles down the road was the barrier that was going to end our little adventure. Yes, totally screwed, but I was loving it.

Already I was wet, panties soaked and thighs slippery. The high performance car we had picked thrummed with life as I gunned the engine, stationary for now but not for long. I would decide when we would move, most likely just before I judged we would be captured. It was like some sleek metal beast, growling with eagerness, almost as if a machine could anticipate the danger and be turned on by it.

Paul, my ever reliable fuckbuddy and partner in all escapades, sat beside me with a naughty-boy grin lighting his dark features. If one could measure the enjoyment of danger by the bulge in his jeans, then he was feeling it too. I pumped the accelerator again, feeling the car rumble. Reaching over, I put one hand between his legs and squeezed him gently, making him shift in his seat and groan softly. Automatic transmissions were good for some things, such as when you needed your hands free.

“Let’s make it a good one,” I said, with a catlike slant of my eyes.

“It’s what we do,” he replied, “One last time.” He was every bit as hopelessly addicted as I was. He had no intention of it ever being the last time. We both unbuckled our safety belts and the car roared again as I wound it once more. The sirens were sounding more insistent and I felt my pulse pick up, shortening my breath. Paul unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out and then grabbed my hand, placing it on the rosy head, which was hard to the point of bursting.

As I stroked Paul I kept winding the car, vibrating the interior and adding to his excitement. I watched him from under hooded eyes, waiting until he began to writhe and thrust to me before I let him go. This was my show and he wasn’t doing anything before me.

“You like that?” I said, smiling at him and pushing the pedal in quick bursts, letting the engine simulate the release that he wanted. He lay back in his seat, face flushed and eyes glazed.

“You know what I want,” I said, my tone demanding, “Do it!”

“Like you had to ask,” he replied. Reaching over, he pulled up the flimsy black cocktail dress I wore for these occasions, parted my legs slightly and pulled aside my soaking panties. Sliding his finger just inside my wet pussy he stopped there, teasing, before slowly tickling me, making me gasp out loud. The engine was roaring now. Even with Paul playing between my legs I was still able to work the pedals. Moving him aside slightly, I grabbed the transmission, clicked it into drive and then punched it.

Tires smoked and screamed and I was flung back into my seat. As the scenery outside hurtled past, I dug my fingernails into his arm as he worked on me with all the skills at his disposal. I started panting with excitement, my musky arousal filling the small space. The car bellowed louder and Paul twined his finger, circling all my sensitive places.

The sirens seemed very loud now. The car picked up more speed and I ground into Paul’s hand. He tickled me faster, stroking and thrusting, and when I came, I trod on the pedal, pushing it flat to the floor. The engine spurred my orgasm on and I clawed his hand, moving madly with his fingers, gasping and crying out.

Paul sat back, smiling smugly, his fingers wet and glistening. Grabbing his cock again I pulled him towards me.

“I want it,” I demanded greedily. “Don’t hold back. Hold back and we die!”

With my eyes fixed on the road hissing under our wheels, I started stroking Paul, relishing how ready he was. I could recognize the landmarks leading up to the barrier so I knew we had very little time now. I started pulling him hard, stoking the fire deep inside him, loving the heat and hardness of the cock in my hand. When he began aggressively moving with me I knew he was close.

Harder I stroked, drawing him out mercilessly. His breath took on a ragged note, rasping in my ears above the wailing sirens and the raging engine. Just as I glimpsed the barrier in the distance he gave a final gasp and arched his back, groaning loudly and then showering us both in warm, white rain. Instantly, I hit the brakes.

The tires shrieked again and we skidded sideways, both of us screaming now. The barrier was approaching fast, seeming to fill the drivers-side window. I was holding my breath, ready to die, when we shuddered to a halt, the sheer force rocking us up on two wheels, making contact with the barrier with the softest feather-like touch. The dust settled and we both breathed again.

Looking over at Paul, who was sitting with his head back, panting hard, I laughed loudly. I was still holding him by the cock. I let him go and reached down to the CD player and turned it off. Instantly the sirens stopped their wailing. Paul reached over to the dashboard and flicked another switch and the police lights set up in the back seat stopped flashing. I took two gold wedding rings out of the ashtray and slipped Paul’s on his finger. He then returned the favor, smiling slightly, probably remembering when he had done the same thing ten years ago. Then we both climbed out and stood there sheepishly, looking at the car.

“The things one has to do these days to keep a marriage alive,” Paul said.

I wound my arms around his waist. “You might want to zip yourself up before you return the car to the dealership.”