Work Text:
Price had been texting you all morning, and they were all salacious as hell…
Can’t stop thinking about how wet you are.
Gonna make you come all over my cock tonight, love.
Remember that butt plug we bought? You’re going to wake up tomorrow morning with it in one hole and me in the other.
Cock’s so hard for you, pretty girl.
Meet me for lunch. I need to feel that pussy.
You were trying to work, as a shipping manager for his unit no less, and even though you were a civilian, you were still under normal fraternization rules. But, Laswell turned a blind eye, which you were grateful for. However, you tried not to rub her leniency in her face.
Price had been on a tear recently. Ever since you’d stopped taking your birth control, he’d become more and more feral about his affections. You still weren’t trying for a baby, but you had medical issues and needed to work those out. So, it was condoms or, more typically, a belly or ass cheek covered in his come. You had to admit, though, he was turning you on with these messages. You’d worn a dress to work today, being allowed free-reign in your clothing choices, unlike your military colleagues.
You decided to take advantage of your easy-access attire, messaging him back:
Lunch at noon?
He replied almost instantly,
I’m omw
You exhaled a shaky breath through your lips, the excitement of his lustful attention had you hot and bothered. You waited by your phone for him to call.
It wasn’t long until he did. His bearded face popped up on your lock screen as you were walking out of the back door,
“I’m waiting for you, baby. Fucking ready for you.”
“Oh, my God, John. You’re going to get us fired,” you whispered into the mouthpiece.
“Don’t care. Need ya. Need ya right fuckin’ now.”
As he was saying the words, you were watching him say them through his windshield. He was staring right at you, his icy blues piercing through the gap between you, pulling you in like a hypnotist, a snake charmer, a predator stalking his prey.
You opened the heavy door to the truck and heaved yourself up, needing to climb up the step in order to get into the cab. He turned the wheel and sped out of the lot, driving to a nearby park. You’d been there before, but never for sex. Usually, it was just a quiet spot to talk, or to kiss each other without fear of reprimand. But, his aggressive driving was making his intentions quite clear. He slammed the truck into park and reached across the middle console, pulling you over it roughly. It was almost too rough, and you were shocked at his intensity.
“John! Hey,” you caught yourself in his arms, “Baby, slow down.”
He grabbed your arms and shook you once, gently, to get your attention, locking your eyes to his,
“I am on fire. You set me on fire, love. And I need you to put it out.”
“Okay,” you pet his cock through his canvas pants, “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”
He groaned, desperate for your relief. You repositioned your leg on the other side of his thick, muscular thigh, straddling him as you unzipped his pants. He looked at you with suspicion and more of that animalistic aggression,
“Your cunt feels warm on my leg. Put it on me,” you did, “Yes, just like that.”
You rubbed yourself on his thigh, trying to only do it once or twice, not wanting to stain his pant leg.
“Don’t stop,” Price moaned again, shoving your hips back down onto his thigh, “Ride me like that while you tug on my cock.”
“I’ll get…” you had to take a breath. The pleasure of feeling your lips being crushed against his hard muscle was coursing through you, making you lose your bearings, “I’ll get you wet. Mess up your pants…”
“Good. Fuckin’ do it. I wanna feel how wet you are. Play with that dick, baby. Touch me, please.”
You didn’t know how to say no to him. As you rode his leg, you chased your orgasm, and it came easily to you. You used both hands to massage his cock, using your wrists to twist and curl around him, leaning forward near enough to smell the familiar scent of expensive tobacco on his breath. Each time you canted your hips forward and back, you felt your pussy flex and slide across the cotton of your panties and the thick, rugged canvas fabric, spreading your lips apart and exposing your clit. You kept up a feverish pace, half of you striving towards his completion while the other half of you chased down your pleasure like a bandit.
Eventually, like a sharpened knife, the sensations became too keen. You faltered, losing your pattern of back and forth motions; the wet humping you were doing had made you come, and you needed him to help you. You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he moaned with you, grabbing your hips and forcing you down, pressed tighter than you’d ever been, making you fuck his quad roughly, leaving no room for sensitivity.
As he was helping you, moving your body on top of his, he started to come. You shielded it from shooting from the tip with your palm, rubbing it into his swollen head, making him clench his teeth from the overwhelming feeling you created. He kept pushing and pulling you, back and forth until you were nearly crying from the onslaught.
You sat up, and you swung your leg back over the console to survey the damage. There was a huge diamond-shaped stain where you’d ridden him, and he was obsessed with it. He traced it with his finger, rubbing across it, putting his palm over it and pressing it into his skin through the canvas.
“So wet for me,” he smiled up at you, “Call in sick.”
“John, no,” you scolded him, “we can’t just take off work whenever you want to fuck me.”
“Either you call in, or I’ll do it for you. But,” his expression darkened, “Let me be bloody fucking clear. I am going to fuck you today. Right now. One way or another.”
You moaned, smiling, getting excited about his plans,
“Let me get my phone.”
