Make Me Pay

She wouldn't let him touch her sex.

Oh there was no question she liked him trying to get at it, as when he put his hands under the hem of her skirt and used his strong fingers against her thighs. She liked the persistence and drive that pushed him to seek her, split her, enter her. But regardless, now, she clenched up each time and twisted away, finding refuge in the corner of the back seat.

"No," she said.

His breathing raged on, a racing engine in neutral. Even though he stopped all movement, she saw clearly there was no reduction in his intent. She liked that, also.

"I want your legs open."

"No."

"Your mouth is open."

"You can have my mouth. But not more," she said firmly, eyes glowing at him.

"You're kissing me with your mouth open, but that's it?"

"That's what we said, for in the car," she reminded him.

"Fuck it."

"No."

She liked holding him at a line. The tension was delicious. They would drive the car home in a little while and she would allow him across the line. He knew this. But first she liked holding him away, if just for a moment. When he had pulled over, too pumped up with her so close and ripe, she had set the limit. Apparently, he had misjudged the affect of her kisses when he agreed to her conditions. Now, she saw, he was frozen: kiss her again, try to get under the skirt or turn the key and drive. All insanely hot options, all frustrating in one way or another. She decided to help by making it worse.

"I have a dare," she said

"What is it?"

"Put your power completely away in this car and I'll make the kissing hot beyond your wildest dreams."

"What do you mean?"

"Promise me again you won't try to touch me or fuck me here. If you promise, I'll do something really, really hot. That's the dare."

His eyes became narrow slits. She was playing high stakes and she felt the rush of adrenaline from risking so much. Suddenly she realized there was more to it, felt the need like an ache in her belly to make one more outrageous condition.

"If you say yes, but can't stand the heat until we get home and fuck me in this car anyway, I won't stop you. In fact, if you try on more time I'll turn around and beg to be fucked, here in the car. But just think: if you keep the promise I'll do this kind of teasing all the time. I know you like it."

She saw him get angry for a moment, as if she were trying to take away his rights or something. But then he let go. Oh thank god, he would let her imagination run things sometimes!

"All right," he whispered. No fucking in this car tonight."

"You won't touch me below the waist."

He smiled at her teenager terminology. "Nothing below the waist," he agreed.

There was a beat of time, a finality. Then she came out of the corner of the car, unwinding and flowing across the seat. She spread her skirt across her knees, tilted her head just so, and gave him her mouth. He went inside it with a moan in his throat, open, wet and strong.

Behind her closed eyelids and deep in her female desire this kiss erupted. His mouth and lips and tongue were outrageous. He circled her, sucking and licking on the inside of her cheeks, forcing his lips under her tongue, sipping the wetness there into his own mouth. He clicked his teeth on hers on purpose once in a while. Then with pressure, he went as deep as nature would allow, looking for any orifice if denied the one he really wanted. When this happened she surrendered even more.

'Make me pay' she thought.

Her head pressed back against the car seat. She allowed him to open her more and more. He deliberately filled her mouth with liquid from his own, until the kiss was like sloshing in a thick pool of delicious, sweet juice. He put more and more inside her, merciless. She held the back of her mouth closed, not wanting to swallow a drop. For the longest time he stirred the juices and roamed the flesh inside her mouth, taking it, marking it, drinking it. She had never let him do this to her in such an extreme way, and a tear slipped down her cheek. It was a succulent, voracious kiss.

Suddenly, she backed out. Her mouth closed. She looked deep in his eyes. With slow, hot deliberateness she swallowed everything.

"Now I'm not wet," she said.

"We can start over again," he said with heat.

"You want to kiss me that wet again?"

"Yes. If I can't fuck you, I want your mouth."

"You're going to make my lips all wet again?

"Yes."

"Wait. I have a better way."

She moved slightly towards the window on her side of the car and out of his arms. She glanced at him once. Then, she put her fingers at the hem of her skirt and slid it up all the way above her waist, revealing her bare legs and perfect white cotton panties. A corner of her mind knew that he might grab her and take over any second, but she would not set her vigilance against it and would not resist it. Thus, her mood was daring, sexy, vulnerable. She put her fingers in the hem of the panties, lifted off the car seat and slid the garment down to her ankles. Revealed in the dim light was the small trimmed tuft of hair and below it the tempting wavy line of her sex, topped by a delicate small cute bud. Immediately her hand covered the vee. Slowly, her legs parted under the hand. One, two fingers disappeared into the cleft. Then, gracefully, the hand lifted away and turned in the moonlight. She saw wetness glimmering. With no hesitation she moved the fingers to the lips of her mouth, gently brushed across them and around them until some of the liquids transferred and her mouth shone and glistened.

She turned to show him.

"Don't kiss me yet," she warned. "I want to make my mouth a little wetter."

This time she didn't look down, holding his gaze, riveted. When the hand returned to her face she looked deep in his eyes as she touched the wetness to her lips, thrilling with her daring. It made her free. She moved the separated fingers around her face touching here and there.

"I love the smell of it," she whispered. The car had begun to fill with her scent, indeed. She felt ripe, floating in a bubble of her own musk.

"I'll make my mouth wet this way as many times as you want," she told him. "My cunt is very wet, and let's me have as much as I want. Lick me and kiss me." She leaned toward him, parted her lips slightly and offered her perfumed mouth with heartbreaking tenderness.

To her everlasting happiness, he put his deep kissing on hold. He just touched her mouth with his, inhaling as he kissed. Their lips fitted and pressed so lightly. There were tiny strings of wetness -- her sex wetness -- bridging between them each time they lifted off. Their eyes shone bright to each other before the kiss resumed. Once or twice the tip of his tongue emerged and tasted her.

"You like my way of making wet kisses, don't you?" she whispered to him.

"You'd kiss your own sex if you could reach it."

"Yes, I would," she said as if in a dream. "I'd suck it and drink it for hours."

He asked her three times to renew the wetness on her lips. She complied, each time with more abandon, opening her legs more and more to get at the deep liquids flowing there. With the last, most of her face was wet, and he had to roam it, inhaling, tasting and kissing everywhere. Finally, he opened her mouth with his and pulled the scent inside, under her tongue and along the inside of the lips. She was deeply surrendered, and would have taken another of those throbbing kisses far far into her throat, felt herself offering it to him with the deepest worship. But he never took her that way.

Instead, he backed away. She felt the impression of his mouth inside hers even as he departed.

"How am I doing?" he asked.

"Fantastic."

"We're going home now. It'll take about half an hour. Will you put your fingers in your cunt while we drive? Touch your lips and mouth?"

She smiled at him and put her had right between her legs.

"Drive fast," she said.