“Eyes on the road, handsome,” I said, reminding him that he was in control of our safety for the evening.
“Handsome,” he repeated.
Oh shit, I said that out loud.
I don’t know if it was just that fifth-month mark or if I’d really started to become a tramp but I felt my eyes drifting towards the crotch of his pants. He was driving so he didn’t notice. But I was straining to see. The car was too dark and the shadows had him covered.
I shifted my gaze before he looked over.
Man I really want this guy.
Mark, my ex, was good in bed. He was romantic at first but then he wasn’t. He just stopped caring at some point. I stuck around because he was really good in bed. He had a tongue that could go until I begged him to stop. That’s a rare talent to have. I was with him out of necessity.
Braden, this guy, was like a piece of devil cake placed on the table in front of me when I’ve been on an unwavering diet for five months. I wanted the cake. I was going to have it. I was going to lick the chocolate off the top and devour that thing…whole.
It was time to turn up the heat.
“Ask me one of the questions you created in the game,” I said.
He laughed under his breath, then looked over at me, realizing I was serious.
“These are some pretty serious questions. You sure you want to start down that path?”
His voice lowered as he reached the last word in the question. It dipped a little and it had a bit of a breathy tone like just bringing up the topic was leading towards some kind of forbidden route. Like he was inviting me naked onto his raft built for one.
I’ll ride that raft. Let’s do it.
“Ask me.”
He paused, eyes on the road, thinking.
“You’ll answer whatever I ask?”
I had to think about this one. Would I answer ANYTHING he asked? I guess. I didn’t have too many dirty little secrets and I suppose if he did ask me something I didn’t want to answer I could just lie, right? How would he know?
“Just ask me.”
“Okay, let’s start with something easy. Do you like when a guy wears boxers or tighty whities?”
Good question. Kind of a stupid one but it made me think a little. What was he wearing? He seemed like a briefs kind of guy.
“Well…boxers are nice because your man can be relaxed, open, aired out. Tighty whities kind of keep everything safe and snug. Can I go with boxer briefs? Those would be the sexiest.”
He smiled and kept driving.
“Next question,” I said.
A soft, kind of romantic tune started playing on the radio. Same singer but a more sensual song. This definitely wasn’t a beer pong mix. This guy was good.
“Okay, hmm, if you had x-ray vision, what part of a man’s body would you look at first?”
I immediately looked down at his belt area. I could almost sense him stirring in his pants.
“Do I really need to answer that?” I asked.
Whoa, where’d that come from?
I’d never been so forward in my life. This wasn’t the typical Mandy Young. I kinda liked this new me.
I put my hand on his leg and the car swerved a little. I yanked back my hand.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Wait, what? No, it’s ok,” he replied as he looked over at me and smiled.
His smile made my heart thud. You know, the kind of beating you feel all the way up in your neck?
“Maybe I should ask you a question,” I said.
“But you’re not the question master,” he replied.
“If your hands and legs were tied behind your back and I needed you to please me, how would you get the job done?”
He chuckled and seemed to tense up. I’d made him slightly nervous. Good, I thought. He’d been asking all the questions and trying to turn me on. It was my turn to play the game.
“Tell me, Braden. How would you please your woman? How would you please me?”
“Well, if my hands and legs were tied behind my back, I’d need your help…just a little,” he said.
“And what would you need me to do?” I asked.
Surely he wouldn’t have the balls to say what he should say at a time like this. He’d turn this into a joke or something, right?
“I’d need you to slide down your panties…”
Uh huh
“Pull up your skirt…”
No fucking way is he going to say it.
“And sit on my face.”
I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach and I swear my pussy got moist. I was dripping. My teeth clenched and my breath quickened.
Good job, Mr. Braden. Bravo. Please, fuck me now. Stop the car and let me sit on your face.
“Next question,” he said.
He stepped on the gas. The car accelerated to nearly the speed of my heart.
I reached out again and put my hand on his thigh. I gripped it nervously, his muscular leg not giving me much slack to hold onto. This time the car didn’t swerve. It didn’t budge. It just raced forward, picking up speed.
I slowly let my hand drift closer to his zipper. I was trying to be suave about it, leaning over little by little. Then he helped me. He picked up my hand and placed it on his cock, right where I’d wanted it in the first place.
Only the thin fabric of his slacks and whatever underwear he had on beneath blocked the skin of my hand from the flesh of his member. I grabbed it, doing a little mental measurement and liking the sum I came up with. He wasn’t hard, not fully, and even halfway there it was a nice handful.
And the car continued to pick up speed. We were flying down the highway. Everything outside whizzed by.
“You surprise me,” he said.
“Do you like surprises?” I asked, moving my hand a little and feeling him stiffen in my grasp.
“When they come in beautiful packages.
Faster we went. I began to get a little bit frightened. We were going way too fast for him to have so much attention on me.
“The problem is…I get greedy…and when a beautiful package comes in too much wrapping, I want to rip it off.”
I ran a finger of my right hand around the nipple area of my dress, while my left hand held onto him, and stroked him over his pants. He was getting bigger and soon I was sliding my hand back and forth, unable to touch it all with one hand length.
My imagination jumped into gear and I could see us later in the night, this growing cock expanding inside of me.
“You want to rip it off?” I teased.
“Yes,” he said. “Now.”
He slammed on the brakes. The car slid and he grabbed me with his right arm, holding me tightly against him while he controlled the wheel with his left. I grabbed his dick so hard I think I might’ve hurt him.
Before the car came to a complete stop, I’d launched myself at him. I straddled him in his seat, grabbed the back of his head, and our faces collided. His lips pressed against mine viciously. We were clumsy but so hot for each other it didn’t matter.
I wanted his tongue to pass my lips but they didn’t. Only lips. Beautiful, soft, feverish lips, but still…just lips.
Fucking kiss me.
I reached for his zipper, desperate to pull him out of his fabric restraints, but he put his hand on top of mine and stopped it.
Is this rejection? Oh God I hope not. I don’t know if I can handle it.
“Wait,” he said.
“Wait?” I asked, confused.
Wait for what, we almost died on the highway just now.
I wanted to yell it at him.
“This is too easy,” he said.
Whoa. I know he did not just call me easy.
“You motherfucker,” I said as I yanked away.
He gripped my ass, tight, nails and all, and forced me back on top of him. His grip spread my pussy inside my panties and it hurt just a little. For a second I thought he might take me right there in the car and I silently begged him to.
&
nbsp; “You don’t understand,” he said.
“I don’t.”
“I want you so bad right now. I want to get out, bend you over the hood, and take you right here on the highway.”
“Yes,” I agreed.
That would be one hell of a plan.
He bit his bottom lip and rapped his knuckles against the window. He seemed a bit frustrated but then he looked me in the eyes and that blue metallic sheen on them seemed to sparkle.
“We could do that,” he said “but then it would be over too quickly. You deserve more than this, not just what any other guy would do. I’m going to show you something different tonight. Let’s do this right.”
“Are you inviting me back to your place?” I asked, hoping, wishing that would be the case.
“Not quite. Want to hear one of my favorite questions from the game?”
Okay, this might be interesting.
I kissed him again, this time letting my tongue seep out just a bit. He did the same but he refused to just let it go. He held back.
Damn him for holding back.
“Ask me,” I said.
“Have you ever had sex in a public place?”
Oh man, yeah, this was going to get interesting.
“Not really. In a sauna once but no one else was in there.”
He smiled and cocked an eyebrow. “A sauna? Nice.”
“Look, I don’t really want to go to a public place. Just take me somewhere private.”
I want to fuck you, you idiot.
But simple sex wasn’t the only thing he had in mind. He wanted this night to last and he had quickly formed an idea in his head. He’d planned a night that would drive me wild.
“No, private won’t do,” he said.
“So where are you taking me?”
“Where we were going in the first place, to the carnival.”
“I really don’t want to go to the fair,” I said.
He reached up under my skirt, palmed my pussy, and said, “Trust me. You do.”
And suddenly I did.
Act 2 – The Game’s Randy
We reached the fair shortly after. The rest of the ride had been nice, but nowhere near as heated as before. I kept my hand on his thigh and he let his finger circle my bare knee. I wouldn’t call it sexy, but it seemed to serve as a reminder that good things were to come.
When we arrived at the fair parking lot, the place was surprisingly empty. Then I remembered it was Sunday and it was after nine o’clock. Families were leaving. Men walked with baby carriers over their chests and women pushed strollers. Brothers and sisters held hands.
Young teenagers giggled in the parking lot, little girls sure their crush was “the one.” The boys did their best to be the young studs these little lasses wanted them to be. It seemed everyone wore either super skinny jeans or very baggy ones. Apparently there was no room for the in-between.
As we stood in line to buy tickets, I caught one girl, maybe eighteen, glancing at Braden out of the corner of her eye. It didn’t happen once, but two…three…four times at least.
Bitch.
I reached up and grabbed his cheeks in both of my hands. On my tiptoes, I kissed him slowly.
When we separated, I looked over at her and passed her an “and there” smile.
Yep, bitch, look the other way. And next time wear shoes that go with your outfit.
Sorry, I’m not usually the jealous type but come on. When you’re with someone and it’s very obvious you’re with that person and a young slut can’t keep her eyes off him…that’s when my little “fuck off twat” attitude comes into play.
I wouldn’t do well on any of those bachelor kind of TV shows.
When I looked back at Braden, it was clear he had no idea about the silent battle that had taken place. He just stood in line, his left hand in his pocket, his right hand in mine, where his finger kept drawing circles on my palm. That was nice and if I remember correctly, in school that was the “I wanna fuck you” symbol.
That and soda can tabs, right? I don’t know how that whole thing started, but I remember a couple of guys gave them to me. Like I was supposed to cash the little aluminum tabs in at some point or something.
I wonder if I give him a soda can tab if he’ll know what it means. He might just think I don’t like to carry my own trash, ha.
I could totally imagine my attempt at being sexy turning into his perception of me being a needy diva. That would suck. I decided against the whole tab thing, instead I’d just tell him at some point, maybe a whispered sigh as we share cotton candy, “I want to fuck you, Braden.”
Oh man, this guy was either going to think I was a serious whore or the perfect booty call. Maybe a little of both. I doubted he’d consider me girlfriend material, at least not the serious kind. I mean I’d stroked his cock only minutes after meeting him.
I so hope my dad doesn’t read this. Or my mom. Or Braden’s for that matter.
I suddenly remembered Braden’s question in the car. “Have you ever had sex in a public place?”
I started looking around.
What do you have in mind?
From where we stood, it was easy to see most of the fair’s larger rides through the chain-link fence. Braden kept his eyes on the line in front of us, looking over at me every once in a while, while my eyes darted from ride to ride wondering where he might be thinking of performing our lewd act.
The rollercoaster? I could hear the people screaming as it dove down one of its many dips.
No, that would be almost impossible.
The Zipper? You know the one where you’re in cages and it flips around and stuff. I imagined smashing my face on the metal door.
No, that would be too dangerous.
Looming over us, right at the center of the carnival, was a giant Ferris wheel with multicolored baskets, not the old fashioned bench kind, but baskets.
No, fuck that. I don’t like heights.
Then my eyes found the Port-O-Potties. People were lined up in front of them. I looked up at Braden to see if he was looking that way. He glanced in the general direction.
Oh hell no. That’s just nasty.
I could imagine him pulling me into one and trying to get me off. I’m not abusive or anything, but I would seriously slap the shit out of him if he tried something like that.
Finally, I decided to just come out with it.
“What do you have up your sleeve?” I asked.
He looked down at me and winked. It was a devilishly handsome gesture, but since I don’t speak blink-blink, I had to ask again.
“What’s your plan?”
“You up for a game?” he asked.
“That depends on what you have in mind. And if it involves Port-O-Potties I’m outta here.”
“That’s pretty gross.”
Okay, we’re on the same page. I could slide back into horny mode.
Just the thought made me a bit nervous. This had all been a game when we were in the car and when we first got in line, but as I seriously considered the fact that this guy wanted to do something here, in public, my heart began to thud in my chest.
“Braden,” I said. “Um, I know we drove all the way here and everything, but I really think I’d like to go someplace else.”
He wrapped his arms around me and put his chin against my forehead. It was a warm and familiar gesture. It felt like we’d been dating for ages. This was my man. If for only this moment, Braden was my man.
“We can go anywhere you want,” he said.
He slid his face down so that his mouth was next to my ear.
Ah…oh…hmm.
His tongue touched my earlobe. It just grazed it, but I swear that little flick of his damp tongue made me wet. I felt like pulling my panties off and kicking them away. They were a distraction. But without them I might feel moisture running down my leg.
“Mandy,” he whispered, the heat of his breath tickling my ear.
I’m going to melt right here.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment. He probably could have asked me to jump off the fucking Empire State Building and I would’ve nodded and reached for his zipper. His voice was powerful.
Kinky Carnival Games (A Romance Novella): Maybe Mandy 1 Page 3