Unkissed. (Rated R)

66.🐸

The silence is jarring. The A.C. crisp and cold, wafting its fans onto my face, the sweat on my body drying with an itchy feel. I'm delirious. Still reeling down from the high altitude. My black suit ditched to the side, draped over the passenger seat, and the dress suit underneath it rolled up to my elbows, thick veins prominent as I held one hand on the steering wheel and the other idly resting onto the gap compartment. I force my eyes not to look behind me, I have already peeked at least a dozen times since we left the building hoping she was alright.

But I fall for my greed and temptation. Adding another sin to the list.

Steadily I drift my eyes upwards for a peek just as we stopped under a traffic light.

Her hair balancing between ruffles and neat but tousling steadily by the breath of the fans blowing down on us heavily, golden sun kissed skin dazzling and the tip of her nose red, while her glimmering eyes did everything possible to not look at me.

How can she, when she stooped low to commit a treason. Doing what we just did was a line that surely would have had me beheaded and her forced to face severe consequences. It's always that moment when you think of what could have happened, after submerging yourself in intense pleasure.

"Please drive." She says, her tone coming off as a silent cry, still treading her gaze from me with all costs, but felt the heat of mine simmering down her body. Reopening the memories of what she tries to suppress, knowing if she were to even peek up to me, she'd only see sin.

Broken vows, and her so called crown of centuries worth of encrypted stories of strong leaders before her, tarnished by allowing the lips of a commoner and employee to have his way with her in a dark hallway of a building her husband just occupied.

We sail out of the heart of New Orleans. Drifting out with caution to not be noticed, while I think back to what just happened.

Every blink was a memory that made my pulse quicken, and my fingers quiver. This sensation triggering few missed beats of my heart. I nearly forgot I had one. And it all narrows down to the main factor. What could have happened.

I found myself drifting to that question for the remaining car ride. How far could we have gone; we had sunk so deep into the moments erotic passion we barely even heard the jingling tunes of the keys, hooked into the strap of the janitor's pocket. Just when I was about to hook her legs over my shoulders, he made it. Luckily his headphones were on, so he didn't hear her moaning, nor he didn't bother to pay attention to his surroundings, or he could have spotted us just a side of him, if not six feet away.

What could have happened. How far could I have pushed; how far could she have let me continue. But for certain it's proven, how bad she wants me, just as much as I want her.

The remaining car ride continues to proceed in silence, I fight the urge to not pull aside and finish what transpired. The scent of the car looms with heavy estrogen, lust nips at my body like sharp licks of electricity dragging into me, every press of the break inciting a sudden huff of shock from her throat. Serves me right for not paying attention ahead, and almost caused us to crash several times.

A snarl crawls up my throat watching those massive breasts bounce every time I had to force the brakes, propelling her body forwards, before it settles back into the seat behind her. "I-"I'm sorry." I speak, unaware how dark and gravellike it sounded.

A beast in heat indeed.

"Just drive the car please," she ushers, adjusting herself quietly. She is illuminated like a star under the ray of sunlight, and her eyes hinted a glow of a sexual longing.

My hand tightens over the steering wheel, suddenly the collar around my neck tightens on its own, I lowly growled as I aggressively tugged the fabric, loosening the tie.