trenchknives | Open Post

[He shakes his head, chuckling a little, but, to his credit, he doesn't say anything in response. Hey, she told him to stop talking, and besides, talking means even less concentration on driving, and he needs all the concentration he can get. He's well aware he's not in charge, and that's fine; it just takes everything he has not to lean into her touch as she plays with his hair.]

[It's okay if he doesn't move; his hands need to be at ten and two anyway. Her hands can be anywhere they want to be. That one that was finding it's way along his lap creeps up his thigh to his zipper but skips over it in favor of his belt. Angela works at getting that undone while kissing along his neck and jaw, biting gently along the skin. Hard enough that he can feel it in his nerve endings, but not deep enough to leave a mark.

Yet.]

[It's a pretty damn undignified noise he makes when she bites him, something along the lines of a stifled groan, but he can't really be blamed for that, can he? She can leave all the marks she wants, as far as he's concerned, even if it might prove far more distracting than what she's done so far. And yeah, maybe he's squirming just a little bit as she undoes his belt.]

[He really can, but she's not going to hold it against him. She'll just smile against his skin once she gets the belt undone and works his zipper down, sliding her hand into his pants to cup him through his boxers. There's the press of the heel of her hand against him, a bit of friction to tide him over as she pulls away and watches him heavy-lidded to see how far she can push him before he stops her.]

[Jimmy's one of those guys that always tries to live up to a challenge: if Angela's gonna push him, he's gonna take whatever he can, even if he has to really grip the steering wheel hard to maintain his concentration when she slides her hands into his pants like that. There'll be no requests for stopping now, not until he considers it downright dangerous, and hell, maybe not even then. He's always been a little too attracted to danger.]

[And she might be a chicken in some departments, but Angela's a thrillseeker herself. This is truly dangerous, especially as she shakes her hair back over her shoulders and leans her head down between the steering wheel and his lap. It's something she's done before that's gotten her off and hell if she was going to leave it alone at doing it once. Knowing Jimmy how she knows him, she doubts he'll push her away once her lips wrap around the tip of his cock and her tongue swirls underneath it as she takes her time tasting him, riding the literal road of danger.]

Oh, fuck...

[Yeah, that whole not talking thing wasn't going to last long. He has to take a deep, steadying breath as soon as she wraps her lips around him, but she's right, there's no way he's pushing her away, not now. Somehow, he's not even surprised that she'd take it this far, and he's not going to be the one to put a stop to it. He's not sure he even remembers where they're going, he just knows it's imperative he keep driving. For some reason. Perhaps because she told him to.]

[Exactly because she told him to. It's not as fun if he pulled over. She wants to drive him insane. He drives the car, she drives him out of his mind. Fuck if they get lost; they'll find their way back soon enough. Right now, Angela has other things on her mind, like how far can she take Jimmy into her mouth. Feeling him shuddering with the effort of breathing makes her smile around him as she sucks in more of him, curling her tongue along the sensitive spots she's memorized here and there. She wants him to lose it without crashing the car. It's a challenge.]

Fuck, y'know, this is probably a really...

[He's not so good at keeping up a train of thought, here. Most of his brain is being used to keep them on the road, not crashing into things -- he's pretty thankful at the moment at that the rest of the road isn't busy. The rest of his brain is concentrating on how damn good it feels, with her mouth on him like that, doing whatever that magical thing she's doing with her tongue is. It's only with some serious effort that he manages to finish his sentence.]

Probably a really bad idea.

[And apparently, he doesn't give a fuck.]

[She knows. She knows it's an awful idea and even if they don't crash, they run the risk of getting pulled over or worse, sharing the road with a trucker who decides to take a peek down into the car next to him. But this is all assuming Angela gives a damn about any of this as she hums a tuneless response to his statement, giving an appearance of consideration as she pulls back.]

So you want me to stop?

[Though she asks, it's not like she waits for an answer before sucking him back between her lips, swallowing him all the way down so it's damn near impossible for him to say yes.]

No, I don't want you to -- fuck, that feels good -- I don't want you to stop.

[So someone could see them. That doesn't particularly bother him, not with his latent exhibitionist streak that Angela just encourages. Getting pulled over might, a little, but he's pretty sure he can talk his way out of getting into too much trouble. Crashing the car might be a problem, but he's really concentrating on staying in his lane and not running into anything. It's just that it's hard to concentrate when she's doing that. He desperately wants to take a hand off the wheel and run his fingers through her hair, but he knows it's a bad idea. Driving with two hands is difficult enough; driving with just one would be downright idiotic.]

[And as much as she likes her hair being played with, there's only but so much living on the edge Angela is willing to do. There's a reason she told him to keep driving and to shut up. Less distractions other than the one she is giving him, less risks.

But too much thinking about danger when he's heavy and warm on her tongue, salty skin making up most of the flavor in her mouth. She hums around him and doesn't stop indeed, increasing the pressure and hollowing her cheeks out. Fingers slip down to his balls, flicking and scratching, teasing and massaging just how he likes it. Like they were in her bedroom and not in a car.]</s

That's...

[He inhales sharply as she increases the pressure, and finds himself unable to talk. Looks like he's following that instruction to shut up once again. He's not sure how much more of this he can take before pulling over or making her stop or going absolutely crazy with how damn good it feels -- arguably, she's already driven him pretty crazy. The way he's breathing hard should indicate that, and the way he can't resist looking down at her instead of at the road, just for a second, admiring how she looks when she's doing that.]

[Well, that's a hard decision he has to make on his own because as far as Angela's concerned, she has no intentions on stopping until he comes. She can tell he's not too far off by his breathing and damn her if she doesn't start humming around him again, wanting to see him crumble around her while trying to keep up a front of relative normality. She pulls all the way back until the tip just the head of his cock is between her lips and sucks firmly, wrapping her hand around the rest of him and stroking lazily at first and then with more purpose and speed.]

Oh, fuck.

[That's all he's going to say, but that's all he really needs to say -- it conveys the message pretty damn well. If her intention had been to get him to come, she'll get her wish almost as soon as she starts stroking him like that. He has to clutch the steering wheel desperately hard and grit his teeth together to avoid shouting as he comes, to avoid closing his eyes and just concentrating on the feelings coursing through him instead of the road, and he manages, somehow, although his whole body shakes with the effort.]

[She immediately takes him back all the way into her mouth, relishing the pulsing of his cock, the warmth as she swallows... It really be no surprise that when Angela sits back up to dig nonchalantly through the glove compartment for napkins, the expression on her face has her looking like the cat who ate the damn canary. Honestly, it's a wonder he doesn't regret meeting her. It's a wonder no one regrets meeting Angela, for that matter.]

[It takes him awhile to get his breath back, but as soon as he does, he sneaks a glance at her, shaking his head.]

Like I said, I'm pretty sure that was a really dangerous idea.

[The tone of his voice indicates that, however dangerous, he enjoyed himself. Regret meeting her? No way. Who else would do something like that? His focus is back on driving now, but there's a grin on his face as he does so.]

[She's arching up into the sunvisor mirror, wiping at her lips before reapplying her lipstick with a smile. A smile so innocent, one would think he just picked this girl up from Sunday Mass.]

I'm sure you were very concerned for our safety. How responsible of you.

Well, y'know me, safety first.

[He'll take this chance to take a hand off the wheel and stroke her cheek, just for a second, before getting back to the business of driving -- really, it's that innocent smile that encourages him to do it.]

Good way to pass the time, though. We're almost there.

[Obviously, Angela has a great sense of timing.]

Well then, better zip up your pants. No need to go in there and flash everybody.

[Angela leans her face into his touch, that sentimental side of her showing itself for a moment, before she reaches out and rearranges him and his clothing. Make a mess, clean a mess. That's her motto.]

There. No crashing, no flashing. [She says with a gentle pat to his crotch.] Happy now?

Yeah, you could say that.

[As he pulls into the parking lot, he turns to give her a devilish little grin.]

Y'know, we've got the long drive back after this is over with, too...

[Insatiable. Really. Can you blame him? He parks the car without further comment.]

[Angela grabs his chin between two fingers to hold him steady and drops a kiss on his lips.]

I'm driving.

[Before he gets any other ideas, the tables have to be turned. At least once. Or twice. Or three times in her case.]

[He kisses back, laughing.]

Yeah, that's only fair, right? C'mon, let's go get this over with.

[Because really, the car has just become a far more interesting place than it had been when they'd started their little drive this morning.]

It's a barbecue, Jimmy. Saying let's get it over with makes it sound like it's a funeral or a wedding or something.

[Funny how both of those things are equal in her mind. Anyway it's put, though, she gets out of the car before he gets any ideas in his head that'll make them late for the festivities.

A few hours later, they're returning to the car for the drive home, she behind the wheel as promised. Angela actually stuck to juice and water because Jimmy being Jimmy probably partook of the beer and liquor. It would be a miracle if he didn't. Only one type of danger today.]

[He's definitely partaken of the beer and liquor, although he's not drunk, exactly, just pleasantly buzzed -- although he's wise enough to know that driving in this condition would be a bad idea. Sliding into the passenger seat, he shrugs.]

Okay, that wasn't so bad, I guess.

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