Page 45 of Stitch
“Don’t move, Camille. Stay in the seat so anyone driving past thinks you’re just sitting there. In fact, here, hold my phone up so it looks like you’re using it.”
“Why? Could we get into trouble for this?”
“This is probably a prime dogging spot, wifey, so who knows. But if you don’t want anyoneto come and watch, I suggest you look like you’re doing something that won’t get them excited.”
I gasped, glancing around the empty road and layby.
“Stitch, I don’t think this is a…oh…” His fingers slid deep inside me, and I flinched, nearly dropping his phone.
“Darlin’, why don’t you hold the phone my way for a minute.” I did so and he did something on the screen and then grinned at me.
“You watch that while I finger fuck you.” I turned the phone to me, and it was a porn site, with a dirty video running. The woman was bent over a car, and she was being vigorously fingered by a masked man. Oh fuck. I let out a moan, and then slapped at Stitch’s hand.
“You’re making me watch porn while you do that?”
He laughed. “I’m helping you get the most out of my bucket list item, that’s all. I want you to come hard, and coat my fingers with your juices, so I can suck them off my fingers. It’s the best I can do right now, because I really want to taste you, but these fucking seats are impossible.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, if this was one long seat, you’d have been driving with my face between your legs, that’s my point, wife.”
His fingers stroked my g-spot as he said those words, and my whole body arched.
“You… you wouldn’t fit, dammit.”
Stitch leaned closer, kissing the side of my neck, licking all the way up to my jaw, and then nibbling at my skin.
“You already know I can fit just fine, don’t you? Now just take my fingers, and let me give you that first married orgasm you know you really fucking want, wifey.”
He arched his fingers again, and I shuddered, suddenly right on the damn cusp of a big orgasm.
“Oh god, Stitch… Oh god…”
“Call me husband. No, call me master of orgasms… no… wait, husbandly master of or…oh there you go, that’s it, suck my fingers deep into your pussy as you ride them. Fucking hell, that was hotter than I expected. You enjoying your husband’s fingers, girl?”
I felt another shockwave ripple through me as he wiggled his fingers, whichwere still deep inside me.
“My god, Stitch! How am I supposed to concentrate on driving now? I’m all wet and… are you planning on moving your fingers? Oh god!”
“You said move them.”
“Not like that! I mean, remove them, please.”
“I think they’re stuck, darlin’. You sucked them in so deep, they’re a goner. Still, they’re enjoying the way you’re still rippling and pulsing over them.”
He was pure filth! “I thought you wanted to taste me.”
He laughed, and used his free hand to unlatch my seatbelt.
“Good point, love, very well presented. Let’s do that.”
“Huh?” He manoeuvred me around, sitting me sideways on the seat, with my legs up over his shoulders, as he leaned into me.
“This won’t work.” I tried shoving him away, but he laughed, right down there, with his beard tickling my sensitive clit.
“It’s gonna work just fine, wife. I’m gonna leave this poor clit alone for a little bit, while I focus on tasting you.” He pressed his face tight into me, and then his tongue started lapping at me, and his fingers spread me wider, so his tongue could slide deep into me. I gripped his hair, and let out a gasp as pleasure started building again. Not so soon, surely?! Surely I can’t come again so soon.
Stitch slid his fingers back inside me again as he kept lapping at me, and groaning like he was eating his favourite meal.
