Quiet Tension

Backseat

"Remember our game of never have I never?" Simon asks, quite abruptly, taking the wrapper from his gum and spitting his gum out.

"Yes," I say, blinking, choosing to ignore the waste of gum that he spent all but two minutes chewing.

"You said you had sex in a car," he continues.

I roll my eyes. "Since you're so subtly hinting at it, please know it was my high-school boyfriend, and it was after prom, the most stereotypical loss of virginity that any young-adult romance author can write. Honestly, it wasn't very memorable."

"You obviously remember it," he mumbles, looking off.

"Only because it was the first, and I had to dry clean my dress secretly afterwards because he got lube all over it," I say, cringing at the memory. "And I remember that part specifically because that dress was very expensive, and lots of girls remember their prom dresses."

"What did it look like?" Simon says, suddenly more interested in his grasp on my waist than the topic of my aformentioned car sex. If you can even call it that.

"It was dark blue, flowy, sweetheart neckline..." I trail off as his hands slide underneath my shirt. "I wore a silver necklace with it, and silver heels." I sigh wistfully. "It was so beautiful."

"What will your wedding dress look like?" Simon asks, more to himself than to me, but I hear him.

And just like that, all of the hopes and dreams I've been thinking of for the past few days bubble up and I have an intense desire to touch him.

I lean down, pressing myself against his growing bulge as I do so, and kiss him.

He kisses me back with equal enthusiasm, and I groan as he tightens his grasp on my waist even further. I dig my fingers into his hair, tasting the cinnamon on his tongue.

Simon reaches for my shirt, pulling it off, and yanks my bra down over my breasts to lean forward, harshly dragging his teeth over my nipples. I gasp in the increasingly-steamy air of the cab, and grind into his lap, earning a groan against my chest in response. I grind faster, and he presses back up against me. Friction is all on my mind right now - the friction of his hands on me, his mouth on me, and him in between my legs.

"You wanna come like this?" he asks, taking his mouth away for a moment to look up at me. In love.

"Yeah," I say, breathless. It's more of a beg.

He leans back, pressing his hips up against mine with more effort, and I fall forward onto his chest, latching my mouth to his neck and sucking, kissing, biting.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Simon says, head against the seat behind him, fingers looped through my belt loops on my jeans, holding me tight. "So soft... warm..."

I reach under his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, and tug his shirt off. He unclips my bra, never stopping his movements under me, and I groan at the feeling of my approaching orgasm.

"You close, baby?" he asks, splaying a hand across my back to press my bare torso to his.

"Yes," I say, kissing a line up his jaw, moving faster. "You're so good to me."

"Anything for you," he says, capturing my mouth in a kiss. Gently, he tugs on my braid, and that does it.

I moan into his mouth as I climax, and immediately reach for his pants. Along with his shoes, he kicks them off, tossing them to the side before picking me up by my hips and gently tossing me into the backseat.

I lie there, desperately fumbling for my own pants and kicking off my own shoes, as he looms over the divider, climbing over me. He pulls my pants off the rest of the way, before tugging my underwear down, too.