As I settled into the black leather seats of your Nissan, I began pulling at the hem of my lilac skirt. I'm not used to wearing such skimpy clothes, but my usual jeans are just not appropriate for tennis. We made small talk on the way. I was barely listening because I was staring at your lips. Watching how they move when you speaks. Looking for every imperfection and memorizing them for my fantasies later. A slight underbite. A dimple when you smiles. Adorable.
I'm finally done pretending I don't adore you. I want to feel you. You park and look at me, about to get out, when I grab your head and pull your face to mine, our lips touch and I feel your hands grabbing at my hair. Now I know you want me too. I suddenly pull away and step out, quickly surveying where we've parked. We're on the side of the tennis court. You come around the side of the car. I can see you trying to think, maybe you're thinking about speaking, but I don't let you. I've already pulled you into another kiss, and I'm leaning my back against the side of the car just behind the door of the backseat for balance.
Without unlocking our lips I pull your hands down from my head and allow them to rest on my hips. I put my own hands around you, reaching up your back. Your hands begin exploring my body, one hand going up and one hand going down. Before I know it I've got my hands on the bottom of your shirt and I'm trying to pull up. You let go of me to rip off your shirt and I place my hands on your shoulders, feeling your body hair beneath my fingers. Suddenly, your hands are under my shirt and on my sports bra. I gasp as I feel your hands running across my nipples, which become erect. You can feel them through the fabric and you pinch them gently and squeeze my entire breasts.
When you start working your hands around my sports bra I decide to take the opportunity to free my chest from the smooth workout clothes. My breasts are yours before my shirt and bra even hit the ground. As I lean my bare back against the hot car I feel your lips kissing my right nipple as your right hand kneads my left breast. I moan softly as the wind runs over my shoulders and face. Now that your head is lower, I can see the road ahead. I feel a rush of excitement in my core as I realize anyone walking outside or driving by will see us.
They'll write you off as an average man, but I'll be seen as a slutty woman. I love it. I feel you getting hungrier as you switch breasts. Your movements are more lustful and I can feel myself getting uncontrollably wet. I desperately need to grind on something to relieve the pressure. I pull your face off of my breasts so I can kiss you. As you stand back up I press my groin against your thigh. You seem to know exactly what I'm looking for and you lift your leg to press harder against me.
You keep the kiss going, with my head pressing against the car. Your left hand suddenly lifts my right leg up by the back of my thigh so half my weight is held by your leg that I'm rubbing against. My arms are wrapped around your shoulders for balance. I don't even notice as you open the car door with your right hand. I feel a wave of disappointment as you step away from me, and let go of my leg. You grab me, and turn me around and push my face against the car.
"Stay" you command. I don't move. I look at my hands pressed against the car by my head without moving a muscle.
"Good girl."
The praise practically lights me on fire with desire. I want you to touch me, I want to feel you inside me. You step close behind me, running your hands against my sides. I feel your feet pressing on the inside of my own, forcing me to spread my legs entirely apart. You crouch down, putting your face right under my skirt. I feel you pulling at the fabrics of my skirt and panties, and gasp in surprise when I feel the blade against my skin.
I almost panic but you say "don't move. I would never hurt you."
I listen and stay quiet as you use the flip knife from your center console to cut through the fabrics. You leave my skirt hanging onto my body, but cut away my panties until they're just a pile on the ground. I feel you press your face against my labia and blow gently across my skin. A whimper escapes my mouth and I don't even realize my mistake until the tennis racket has already made contact with my asscheeks. The spanking stings slightly but doesn't hurt. Even so, tears welled up in my eyes. I'm full of so much raw emotion; lust, passion, excitement, desire and I can't control myself.
You put your face close to mine and whisper, "How do you feel?"
I can't believe it. I started this, and you're the one checking in on me. Making sure I'm okay. God, genuine concern is so sexy.
I respond "I feel great, like a sexy slut."