Falling for Rex by Shayne Ford

12

LUNA RAE

I watch him in silence,feeding on the last pulsations of his orgasm, his back propped against the car, his chest heaving, his eyes closed, his hand going on his cock slower and slower.

I’ve never seen someone so entrapped in pleasure.

His features relax, his lips lined with a soft smile.

Something connects us, forging us together, and although I have nothing to compare it with, I’m so enthralled I have the effect I have on him.

I feel good with him, so comfortable in my skin.

He has a calming effect on me as I trustfully let him handle me.

“You know there are people in that car...” I say, watching his profile.

He turns his eyes to me.

“What people?” he asks quietly, unable to flash a smidgen of worry while smoothly palming his cock.

Silence surrounds us, pierced only by the grinding of the ocean.

Slowly, I tip my chin, pointing to the car parked far behind his ride.

“There’s a car,” I say, my voice almost a whisper. “They turned the lights and engine off.”

He moves his gaze in that direction.

The car’s silhouette looks like a ghost–– the windows are dark.

“I bet she’s blowing him,” he says.

Biting my lip, I push back a smile. He shifts his focus to me, not bothered by that car.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me.

Observing me.

I can’t say a word. His gaze goes down my body before his hand comes to my stomach.

Slowly he runs his fingers down, watching the teasing motion before touching my sex.

Although soft, his touch makes me tingle.

Staring down, he can’t see the blush blazing across my face or sense the tension in my muscles.

He palms my sex and brushes it with gentleness, his gaze tipped down, his free hand cupping his cock before shifting and stopping in front of me.

“They could watch us,” I say in a silent voice as he runs his hand up and down between my legs, stroking my clit and my entrance.

He’s wet from my arousal.

“Let them watch...” he mutters, his lips trailing my jawline. “Turn around,” he demands, my dress barely clinging to my shoulders.

His hand splays on my neck, covering my bruised skin. His cock bounces, semi-hard again.

It’s out of his pants.

“No one can see you... Luna. Just turn around.”

My eyes go to the car parked on the other side of the lookout area. It’s lifeless, carved out of silence and darkness as if it’s never moved.

As if I haven’t seen it rolling in.

As if the lights haven’t been on and the engine never ran.

Oddly, I’m the only one spooked, and that feeling alone makes me doubt himself.

Maybe it’s not a big deal.

Maybe Rex had been here before and knows something that I don’t.

Perhaps people come here to make out.

Or maybe the blood pulsing in his cock makes him ignore the danger charging at him in any shape or form.

But what danger could it be if no one walks to us?

I still shudder at the thought that someone’s watching us––however much they can see of us–– my apprehension only growing–– and yet the words, his touch, the forbidden nature of his request make me ignore the signs.

Maybe it’s nothing.

Maybe they didn’t even notice us.

I turn around and set my palms on the hood of my car when a few rides come rolling down the main road.

They’re far, and the headlights sweep us briefly, but I doubt they’ve seen us.

This is insane.

My dress hangs onto me but is open at the front–– his hands are on me, my bare backside pressed against his groin.

He’s full, his wet erection resting on my lower back, his hands locked around my hips before sliding to my front.

His palms are open on my skin, his chest hot against my back.

We’re not doing it, but in my head, we are.

I can feel the fulness inside me as if his hard flesh is tucked inside me, opening and pressing against my walls.

I can feel his body perfectly lined with mine, his strong hands clasping my hips and his hardness grinding into me while I jerk with every thrust.

Again, we’re not doing it, but in my vivid imagination, we are.

It happens. I can feel it.

It arouses me.

It turns me on.

It makes me drip again.

It makes me go crazy for him.

And that’s not smart. None of it is.

I haven’t done it, and yet, here I am, doing things I’d never thought would be possible.

Like standing almost naked, propped against a car, a man’s hand between my legs, parting my folds, touching my clit, stroking my skin, sliding between my thighs, trailing the edge of my entrance, and teasing it with curled fingers.

If he fingers me now, I’m going to come.

If we keep it like this, he’s going to be a hard addiction to fight.

Why do I even think about it?

His hands explore me, making trips to my breasts.

He cups them before dragging his touch back to my sex while moving his erection against my backside.

A second later, he cups my breasts again and squeezes them hard. I jolt back and gasp, making him grunt with pleasure.

There are smarter things we could do right now other than what we’re doing, and yet, the danger makes us want it even more.

He wraps an arm around me and holds me against his body, pressing me against his chest and breathing into my hair while stroking me with his free hand.

“We’re going to come again, all right...” he drawls as if he’s drunk.

That... right there... hooks me up on him.

Having that power over him while he knows exactly how I feel. Watching him struggle as he postpones the moment when he’ll enter me.

The thought that we’re playing with this... that he opens me to every possibility... That he does to me so many things while leaving me intact makes me want him even more... And makes me want to give him pleasure even more.

Exercise my power over him even more.

His moves start shifting, his thick shaft sliding against my butt. He lifts the back of my hair and breathes across my skin, slowly rolling his hips, rubbing his flesh against my body.

“How does it feel?” he asks in a mellow voice.

As hot as he feels.

Another car trails down, so I tilt forward, away from him, my hair falling over my cheeks, concealing my face, the sides of my dress covering my naked body.

I’ve lost my mind.

The vehicle pulls away, and it’s quiet again, except for the intrusive car that seems dead, yet again.

Something makes me look in that direction. There are no signs of people in that car. It crosses my mind that maybe whoever was in that ride had climbed out and gone somewhere else.

Maybe there’s a trail leading to the beach. What other explanation could there be?

I pull lower and lower until my chest almost touches the hood. He flips my skirt up, his bare cock grinding against my entrance now, not pointed to enter me, but sweeping through my lower lips and stroking my opening.

My legs begin to shake.

His fingers dig into my hips.

“There’s nothing more that I want right now than to fuck you...” he rasps.

I realize what an effort it takes him not to do it.

He continues.

“But I want you to be ready for me. You’re too perfect not to be ready. Do you understand?”

I have no idea what he’s saying, but I nod and mutter a soft yes.

“You’ll know what I mean...” he says as if he knows I’m clueless, and then inevitably, I start to think that maybe he’s done under these kinds of circumstances with someone else.

That’s why he knows it.

He holds my hips, grinding against me as if rehearsing the moment when he’d pound me, and then grabs the back of my hair and pulls me up.

Up enough to have my back lined against his chest and his hard dick pressed against my backside.

His breaths roll into my hair, his hand locked on the front of my neck, the other filled up with a breast.

“One day, you’ll be completely mine,” he says, squeezing me hard again, cutting my air supply.

My hands shoot up, cuffing his forearm, his wrist, fighting his grip, but my body wants him.

“See what I mean,” he says, decompressing it lightly, letting me breathe again.

“Uh-huh...”

He tightens his hand again, and I slip into a daze, teetering on that edge where everything is possible, any request, demand. Anything and everything can and will be granted.

Lights come from the southbound lane this time, the headlights sweeping by. I no longer care that I’m exposed.

I’m too high.

His grip is too strong.

His hand between my legs is too grabby, his finger sliding too precisely, curling and probing my opening.

“Come baby... come,” he says, murmuring, gone, chanting to me, while his cock stirs against my rear.

He pushes his hips faster as if he pounds into me, his finger sliding deeper, and I can no longer hold myself together. I want to, but I can’t.

His grip tightens, his fingers pressing.

His touch presses against my clit while his fingers do that back and forth motion inside me.

I expect to feel pain, something of significance down there. It’s only wetness and pleasure.

And then the lights of the car are gone, and my air is gone too. And it feels as if I’m slipping into something different.

It feels like sleep.

A trance.

An out of body experience.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he grunts, moving fast, jerking himself off by slapping his hard cock against my body.

The thought kills him too–- the fact that I’m naked, suffocating, trembling, my hands quivering, my gasps coming out, fast and quiet as if I’m dying.

He clenches his fingers below, and that hurts. He hurts me on purpose and slides two fingers into me.

Again, no pain inside, but on my clit and neck. My eyelids go down, the surge growing, shooting higher and higher.

I think I’m going to pass out, but I’m not... He grunts and curses, rubbing himself against me.

It’s what he likes.

Me... convulsing in his hands.

Me... walking that line for too long.

I can’t...

I fall against his touch, rocking my hips until I feel the pain. Not inside, but on my neck and on my clit.

It hurts like hell. It’s pleasurable like heaven.

I move against him, not knowing what I’m doing, not knowing what I’m chasing. Not understanding that my lungs are empty. But knowing that I’m high and completely in his power as I lean on him.

His pace is fast and harder, and I quiver against him, spasms falling through my frame until I hear him groaning, and I feel the creamy load blasted on my lower back and rear, and this is it.

I can’t hold it together anymore.

Jolting against him, I come on almost no air until he relaxes his grip and my voice and gasps come to life. The pulsations sweep through me, making me growl with pleasure and frustration.

He moves, his cum dripping, smearing my lower back.

He came without touching himself, but now he does.

He grabs his cock and moves his fist, fast, his knuckles scraping my back as he enjoys long moments of pleasure, shooting more creamy cum, his fingers slipping out of me, his hand no longer hard on my sex, iron-hard on his thick wet cock only.