Page 144 of Story of My Life
“Hit your head?” I asked. She nodded.
I placed my palm on the top of her head to protect her from the roof of the cab. With a grin, she regained her cadence.
I couldn’t hold on, couldn’t fight the release as it churned in my balls.
“Fuck it,” I murmured against her breast, the sensitive tip swelling. I gripped her hips and thrust home hard. Once. Twice. Three times. It blazed up my shaft like a lightning strike just as I fucked into her as deep as I could go. And by some divine biological intervention, Hazel’s inner walls clamped down on me, and I ejaculated.
“Goddammit,” I bellowed as the woman destroyed me body, mind, and soul.
“Cam. Cam. Cam,” she brokenly chanted my name as she came apart on top of me.
I fucked her through our orgasms, each clasp of her sex milking more semen from me until we collapsed in on each other, just two masses of sensation trying to remember how to breathe.
I’d had back seat sex before. But nothing ever compared to this compulsiveneedI felt with Hazel. This was supposed to bejust sex. Simple, uncomplicated sex. But I’d just had the orgasm of a lifetime, and I was still half hard inside her, already thinking about the next time.
Hazel peeledher face off my shoulder. “Ohmygod. That was…”
I waited for her to define the words that escaped me. To tell me what this tangle of feelings in my chest was.
“Good,” she said on a satisfied sigh.
Good? Good? A slice of Angelo’s pepperoni pizza fresh from the wood-fired oven was good. Waking up thinking it was Monday but it was actually Sunday was good.
What we’d just done to each other was so far beyond good I’d need a thesaurus to find my way there.
“Good?” I repeated.
She wiggled in my lap, reenergizing my erection, which apparently hadn’t been offended by her lackluster adjective. “You know what I need right now?” she asked.
A bigger, more specific vocabulary? A class in giving sexual compliments to deserving partners?
“What do you need?” I asked gruffly. My throat was raw, my balls were tingly, and my cock was still inside the woman.
“Snacks,” she announced perkily.
“You want snacks?” I repeated slowly.
She nodded. “I was too nervous to eat after the big announcement. What are we going to do?”
My brain was slowly coming back online. “Do about what? Snacks?”
“No. Well, yes. But what are we going to do about the sewage plant upgrades?”
“We just fucked each other in the back seat of a pickup truck in a parking lot, and you want to talk about the sewage plant?”
She nodded. “And snacks.”
I toldher I had an early morning and that the snacks and sewage could wait until some other time. I dropped her off at the curb in front of her house, without a good-night, thanks-for-rocking-my-world kiss, and drove away. I made it two blocks before pulling into the old Williams place. They’d moved out over a year ago when Mrs. Williams lost her nursing job at the hospital. The house was still on the market.
I got out and marched back to Hazel’s house. Sticking to the shadows of the driveway, I skirted the side of the house and knocked lightly on the kitchen door.
I heard scuffling and the approach of bare feet inside. The doorknob jiggled then shook.
“It’s locked,” I called out.
“Cam?”
“Just twist the thing.”
