1930s Chicago. Notorious gangster Tom "Tommy Gun" Holland has been storming his way through Cook County, robbing banks and breaking hearts. One day you find yourself in the wrong place, at the wrong time when he makes a hit on your bank. There's...
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"Di...darling...," Tommy gave a frustrated grunt as you straddled his lap. You had already unsnapped your garters and removed your panties to let his fingers browse inside you. You whined and moaned in your seat, trying everything to entice Tommy to pull over, but he insisted on putting enough distance between you and the last bank job. But your lust made you impatient and you weren't going to wait on him. You were determined to feel the heat of that barrel slide inside you, so you hiked your dress up, and climbed onto his lap with nothing but the tweed of his trousers between you and sin.
"Just keep driving," you purred into his ear, before nibbling at his throat. He craned his head, trying to see past you, only exposing more neck to devour. You risked a big bite and the car swerved.
"Jesus, Di!" Tommy yelled, but that pistol of his was cocked from the bite and you knew he was just putting on his grumpiness.
"Sorry, Handsome," you cooed, grinding your hips against his taut trousers. You didn't feel very sorry though. The thrill of the bank job, and having such power over those suits, sent you into tailspin of lust. Suppose you'll just have to make due with a moving vehicle then.
Tommy's hand clamped onto your rear and gave an eager squeeze. You laughed and went to work on getting that weapon out of his pants. Your hand slipped around it. He was packing heat alright. And from what you could tell, he was locked and loaded and ready for some action.
The engine purred louder as you playfully stroked him. He let go of your rear and reached for the shift, gearing down for a turn. You looked behind you and out onto the open road.
"Are we stopping?" you asked. Tommy's eyes left the road for a second and looked at you with the devil's desire.
"No," he answered sternly, looking past you again. You smirked then gripped his gun harder. He let out a loud grunt and his thigh jerked beneath you. The car reared and the engine roared with such excitement, it left you laughing hysterically.
A smile appeared on Tommy's lips but you covered it with yours before it got any bigger.
The car swerved again and Tommy jerked his head away. Both of his hands flew to the wheel to right the ride. You laughed again. That reckless thrill that coursed through you was insatiable. The riskier, the wetter.
"Your pussy will be the death of me," Tommy grumbled. You lightly slapped his chest .
"Don't be vulgar," you scolded him and took a nip at his jawline.
"Darling," Tommy burst out laughing and risked a glance your way, "you literally have your hand around my cock. I think we're past decorum."
Decor-what? You didn't know what that meant, but you liked it when your handsome devil had some manners. It made you feel worldly and sophisticated, like some revered starlet on the arm of the most dashing of men.
