I swallow convulsively, my mouth void of any moisture. I stare out the window, the lights passing before my unseeing eyes as you navigate your car through the city. Soft jazz drifts through the speakers, but my ears do not hear. My heart thunders frantically against my chest as I recall my words to you in the restaurant. I marvel at how so simple words can threaten my very air supply, yet change the course of our entire evening, perhaps our very lives. Typically, we would have had our dessert, kissed one another on the cheek, and departed for our respective spouses, but not tonight.

I am jarred from my thoughts at the touch of your steady hand against the skin above my knee. My gaze slowly finds your hand, and I am struck by the warmth that floods me. I watch, transfixed as your fingers begin a slow sensual massage, inching their way up and under the hem of my sundress. My breathing becomes labored as apprehension and desire fuse. I am frozen, unable to stop the gathering wetness at the junction of my thighs at the sensual rhythmic approach of your hand.

I hear my name somewhere off in the distance, and moments later, I recognize your voice. As if in a trance, my gaze finds yours. The wicked glint in your eyes profoundly strikes me as I feel your fingers move higher along the inside of my thigh.

“Open for me, angel,” you growl, your voice thickened with arousal.

With a mind all their own, my legs relax, spreading and granting access. I watch your face, illuminated in brief intervals by the passing street lights, as you turn back to the road ahead of us. I study the lines and angles of your face, a face I’ve glimpsed a million times before. A face so familiar and yet seems so new and different now. The welcoming friendship I once glimpsed has now been replaced by something much more raw and primal. A need.

I gasp, my hips jerking involuntarily as I feel your warm fingers brush against my bare lips. When had your fingers breached the barrier of my panties? In my shock, I am unable to help the tension that slips into my body.

“Relax,” you whisper your eyes never leaving the road.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself into ease, yet my hips jerk once more as a thick finger parts my folds to discover my engorged numb.

“So wet for me, baby girl,” you growl with approval, a wicked smile tugging at your lips.

Expertly, your fingers begin a sensual teasing assault on my clit. My eyes close, and my head falls back against the headrest. I capture my bottom lip between my teeth in an effort to suppress a moan. Suddenly, your rhythm changes, and control of my breathing slowly slip through my grasp.

I open my eyes and look down at my lap. The sight of your hand in my wet lace panties sends a new wave of moisture and tremors through my body. Without warning, a thick finger slips beyond my lips into my damp-heat, wringing a moan from my lips.

“That’s it, angel. Let me hear your sweet song.”

Curving your finger, you begin to pump inside of me, and my hips join your rhythm. My body burns and tinges. Tension begins to creep into my spine, the need for release building. Your name escapes my lips as you drive my body higher and higher, yet holding me just on the sweet edge of oblivion. I marvel at the ease of which you have so quickly mastered my body, and yet I crave more.

“Please,” I plead, my gaze returning to your face.

“Please, what, angel?” you ask, seemingly unbothered by my plight.

“More,” I rasp out, one hand grasping the handle of the car door while my nails of the other dig into the leather of the seat.

“That’s not the proper way to ask,” you reply, your finger teasing then retreating from my G spot. “You have to ask Daddy to come properly. You can do it, angel.”

In the haze of my desire, my mind slowly begins to make the connection. My mouth works between gasps to form the appropriate words.

“May I please cum, Daddy?”

My ears catch the growl of approval deep in your chest. “That’s a good girl,” you reply.

I cry out, my arms wrapping around yours as a second thick finger slips into my core. Your rhythm picks up speed as the car turns one corner and then another. I close my eyes, giving myself up to the pleasure of your touch against my most sensitive regions, uncaring if you drove us into the mouth of hell itself. My nails dig into the sleeve of your suit jacket as my body begins to spiral out of control. My lusty moans grow louder and louder as I start to climb that delicious stairwell once more. Without warning, my body jerks as a loud moan rips from my throat. My body is thrust into space, and I shatter into a thousand glittering pieces. I cling helplessly to you as you wring every drop of my orgasm from deep inside me.

I collapse against the seat my body spent as you slow your movements. Through the buzzing in my ears and body, I am suddenly keenly aware of emptiness as your fingers slip from my body. I still cling to your arm, strangely unable to let you go, as if you are some anchor holding me to the very Earth itself.

“Easy, angel,” you whisper as you gently free yourself from my grasp.

Carefully, I open my eyes and slowly begin to take in my surroundings. When did we stop?

I look to you, confused in my afterglow. Slowly, as if savoring your favorite treat, you lick my essence from your fingers.

“Fuck you taste good,” you proclaim, sucking the last drop. “We’re here, baby girl. Let’s get you inside before I fuck you right here in the car.”

Once again, I look around my gaze slowly focusing on the building outside my window. Anxiety grips me once more as realization begins to blossom.