"I'm here."
I stare at my phone, willing him to reply. Every nerve-ending in my body is tingling, wondering what he's got planned for me. For us. All he told me was that he had a big surprise.
My heart swells a little and I allow myself a minute to bask in the romance of it all. This man who loves me so much, who works so hard, who makes every day an adventure, even after all this time together. I squeeze my eyes shut, picturing his sweet face: smiling, blue eyes, silky, brown hair, the stubble that covers his dimpled cheeks, and the soft beard I can't help running my fingers over every time he's within arms' reach. Damn, I love him.
I flip the visor down to check my reflection. My blue eyes are sparkling with excitement, my cheeks flushed pink already. I pull my dark blonde hair down over my shoulder and comb it with my fingers, nervously.
My phone buzzes with a new text message and I grab for it. "Take your panties off."
I blush and look around. There's a man eating a sandwich in the parking spot across from me.
"There's someone here."
"Do it."
I swallow hard. I love it when he gets bossy with me. I consider disobeying just so he'll punish me, but I really want to know what he's up to.
Keeping my gaze on the sandwich man, I reach under my dress and inch my panties down. Quickly, I lift my hips and shove them to my thighs, then push them over my knees so they fall to the floor. I step out of them quickly, then casually reach down and grab them, shoving them in my purse.
I text him. "They're off."
"That's my girl."
Oh, fuck. I love it when he calls me that.
A minute later, he pulls up next to me. Sometimes, he'll walk around his truck and pull me from my seat, hugging and kissing me before opening the door and helping me inside, his hands never leaving my body. I can tell from the way his gaze is burning into me, this is not one of those days.
I grab my purse and turn the car off, glancing around to make sure I have everything. I wish I knew where we were going. Pressing the button to lock up my car, I turn and open the door to his truck. He's got a towel on the passenger seat and I look at him with wide eyes, feeling my cheeks flush.
He chuckles. "Get in, Baby."
I climb in and buckle my seatbelt, looking at him expectantly.
He tosses something into my lap. "Hold this against your clit."
I look down. It's a bullet. Not ammunition. The wire leads to a controller in his hand. I glance out the window, wondering if Sandwich Man is watching. He is still in his car, but not looking our way.
He tugs the toy away from me. "Of course, if you don't want to, we can just go home."
"No!" I shout, grabbing for it. "I'll do it."
He smirks and hands it to me. I part my legs and pull my dress up so he can see, then press the cold metal against my clit.
"Good girl."
Not knowing what's going to happen, not having any control, is exhilarating. He doesn't leave me waiting long. We're not even out of the parking lot, yet, and the bullet begins to vibrate. I gasp and reach for his arm but he pulls it away.
"Oh, no. I'm in charge."
I whimper, then moan loudly as he increases the intensity. "Eric. Please."
"Please, what? More?"
Already, I am about to cum, but he turns the bullet off and I cry out in anguish, instead.
"Please, what?"
"Please, Sir," I mumble quickly. "Please let me cum."
He turns the bullet on again, but much lower. I press it harder against my clit, aching for release. He turns it off again. "I'm in charge."
I nod.
"Say it."
"You're--" he turns it on high and I cry out.
He turns it off. "Say it."
"You're--" On again, even more intense. I moan. "You're in... you're in...Oh, God." I take a deep breath. The wave is right there, about to drag me under. "You're. In. Charge! Ah!" I scream as the orgasm crashes over me. My fingernails dig into my thigh as I writhe against the seat. He places his hand over mine and I cling to it gratefully, gasping for breath.
His hand moves between my legs, pressing the bullet back into place as the vibration increases again.
"Oh, fuck!" I moan. "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh fuck!" I put my foot on the seat, trying to get enough leverage to push him away, but I can't.
"What's wrong, Baby?" He asks innocently. He's parked now, and he plays with the controller, increasing and decreasing the speed, intensity, and pattern, until I feel like I might explode.