Pelgris

“No,” he growled, pushing me onto the hood of his car, “now.”
He leaned in, lips brushing against my neck. His hand reaching down, my pulse quickens, as his tongue hovers over my carotid. The sound of a zipper fills the swiftly falling night. Heat and dexterity giving, his mouth, his tongue tasting me. The cool air brushing my thighs. My pants having come off in the moments rise and fall. A long, slow deep sound fills the air as Michaels strong rough hand reaches inside me filling me. I whimper against his curls. His knuckles kneading me. “Now, now, now”