Chapter 24

With Mrs. Jenkins’ tight throat and slurping lips on my saliva-glistening purple-black pole, I drove through the fields and trees of Alabama, heading for I-20. The afternoon sun warmed my outstretched fingers atop her bare back. As her bobbing head eased from side to side, muscles rippled beneath her silken skin. Indeed, I was in heaven.

So why the heck did an image of Chanelle flash into my mind?

When my muscles tensed, Mrs. Jenkins moaned at the abrupt motion. We’d just entered Bowton behind a gigantic white camper trailer. At the vibrations of her groan, my body heaved. So much for a languid blowjob. With another deeper groan that pushed pulsations along my spine, Mrs. Jenkins’s mouth dove. She’d detected the oncoming flood. As her slender fingers rolled my slow-spinning balls, the other hand glided to my tensing root.

“Oh. Oh, fuck. Mmm. I’m gonna—” is all I managed before grunting as I thrust into her throat.

She was not Chanelle. As each forceful pulse flung my seed into her belly, Mrs. Jenkins swirled her head with calm, measured motions. While her fingers pressed my globes, her tight throat twisted around my pulsating shaft. A warm silken pillow, her tiny frame eased upwards, riding every jerking thrust of my shuddering pelvis. The entire time, her gulping neck never ceased massaging me.

It was only after we were through town, and among farms, that my peripheral vision returned. As the roaring in my ears quieted, the blurring world sharpened. As Mrs. Jenkins dragged her lips upwards, still twisting her head, her fist followed, squeezing every drop from me.

“God! Wow!” escaped me just as she released my empty balls to sweep a shock of hair from her face. Above her bright red lips distended around my glistening dark pole, her green eyes sparkled. “You’re amazing...”

I’d been about to add “whore,” but my voice tapered off as I helped push another strand of blonde from her reddened cheek. When her mouth collapsed beneath my shaking fingertips, I cried out at the forceful pull of her suction in my core. Her eyes blazed up at me.

Yeah, she wanted every last drop.

At last, after we’d entered a wooded stretch, Mrs. Jenkins lifted from me with a loud slurping plop. After a final swirl of her tongue around my sensitive crown, which had me huffing, she smacked her smiling lips. Once she’d settled into her seat, Mrs. Jenkins’ glittering fingernails twinkled in the sunlight as she scooped along her chin.

For a while, she sat in silence, staring out at the woods while pushing dribbles of thick, white-streaked saliva to her lips. My heart pounded with each flickering shadow the trees threw across her naked frame. At a loud slurp, my grip tightened on the steering wheel. When I looked at her, she smiled and drew a finger from her mouth.

“How do you do that?” she said in a soft voice.

“What?” I gestured to my drained pole. “You’re the one who just—”

With her smile widening, she skimmed her soft fingers over my still shrinking flesh. As she lifted and rolled my mast in both palms, she inspected it. At a lengthy sigh that sent her warm breath along my twitching pole, I gulped. For a second, when she leaned over, my heart hammered. She wouldn’t devour it again?

No.

Instead, after her supple lips landed on my shaft, Mrs. Jenkins gave it one brief kiss before folding and zipping it away. With a slow exhale, she returned to her seat. As she stretched her lean legs, rolling them as if deciding which side needed sun more, my pulse continued to roar.

“Nuh, uh. What I mean is”—when she fell silent, I glanced over. Indecision flickered behind her hooded eyes—”with you, I’m just—different. It’s never been like this with any of the others. Denny and I...” After a pause, her lips trembled. Mrs. Jenkins’ hand skittered along her stomach towards her little blonde patch. “Hiram. Can I? I need to ... All week, I’ve been dreaming of this. Being alone with you.” She giggled, flicking her gaze to her trembling fingers, then lower before returning to me. “I mean, not precisely this way, but simply being near you. On you. Oh, God, wrapped tight around you. It’s ... Could we stop, baby? I really need to—”

Her voice ended in a sharp intake of air when I slid my hand onto her shaking, flat belly. White-rimmed, her eyes flicked out the windshield.

“Oh. Oh, fuck, really?” Her voice rose in pitch when my fingertips passed over hers to comb through soft fine hairs. “Hiram! Oh, God, baby. Mmm. Really? Here? Oh. On the road?”

“Why not?” As I spoke, I circled her heated little clit with my fingernail. A desperate moan tore from her as she arched her pelvis into my fingertip. “Put on a show.”

“Oh, fuck Hiram. Mmm. I don’t know.”

Despite her faltering protest, Mrs. Jenkins’ hand slipped down to squeeze mine, trying to force my finger closer to her hot spike. Back then, nobody had mobile phones with cameras. Besides, there were few cars. Which was good since I was struggling to watch the road and keep my fingertip steady over her wriggling sleek frame.

“I do,” I said as I nudged inwards, tapping her nib. “Do you really dream about me?”

“Yes!” shot from Mrs. Jenkins just as she left the seat with a moan, pushing the heated little point into my thick digit. “Mmm. Oh, fuck. Always!”

And those were the last words from her for a long while.

After sliding them beyond the back of her hand, I sank my fingertips into her velvet sodden petals. As soon as Mrs. Jenkins lifted her other hand to squeeze her tits, I shoved my palm against hers, driving it into her hot spike. With a winding moan, she pushed into our hands while mashing and tugging her thick, glossy nipples. As my fingers plunged, my palm crushed her hand harder and faster. With her eyelashes fluttering, Mrs. Jenkins thrust her body from the seat into our pumping hands.

“Oh, yeah. That’s it, baby.” I said with a grin. “See, I told you. A sexy little slut like you. Mmm, hmm. You put on a spectacular show.”

At my words and considering how needy she’d been, it wasn’t long before Mrs. Jenkins’ moans turned into ever louder groaning. Soon, her shaking legs were jammed against the sides of the cab. Not long afterwards, as her soggy wetness pulsed around my delving fingers, her head flew backwards. The leather squeaked as it dug into the seat back. With the cords of her neck taut, that first cry became louder screams at the roof of the car. Under our assault, her gleaming, twisting, sun-streaked body bowed from the leather to shudder in mid-air.

A perfect arch of glittering suntanned womanhood.

Her screams. Endless.

Her juices. Flooded.

Only once she’d crumpled into a panting wreck, unable to do more than whimper, did I lift my hand to lick my digits clean. Below her shaky fingertips, her puffy flesh was crimson and flecked with twinkling droplets. By the time we’d merged onto the interstate, her eyelids had fluttered closed.

Well, we still had forty minutes to Atlanta, but I’d no idea where in that enormous city we were headed. Worst case, I’d pull over until she awakened. With a smile, I peeked at her crumpled form. After all the noise and motion, she was so utterly peaceful. My heart—slowed. As I let out one of the longest exhales I can remember, I nodded.

Yeah, I’d only wake her when I must.

Beneath the tires, the road droned on as that winding ribbon of asphalt drew us eastward. For the first time in forever, my mind blanked. All I did was drive.

“Denny’s a good man, Hiram.”

At her soft words, I jerked. Talk about power nap; she’d slept for no more than fifteen minutes. After pulling my eyes from the endless stream of cars, I glanced at Mrs. Jenkins. As she stretched, her unfurling curves ignited—everything—in my body.

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