Darla fiddled with her keys as she walked to the car in the underground parking garage. Whitey was walking a few feet behind her. He was watching her hips as she walked. Her tight, red skirt hugged her curves, and it gave her style a touch of Old Hollywood Glamour. Just as she reached the car, she turned to face him. She had a look of dread and doubt that was uncharacteristic for her. It looked completely out of place on her face.
Whitey, however, was grinning from ear to ear. It was a grin of power and seduction, and it made him randy when things went his way. He pressed up against Darla and moved his hands to her hips.
“Oh, look at this lovely lady walking alone in the parking garage.”
Darla rolled her eyes. Here she was about to say something important, and he wanted to play fantasy in the garage.
“, wait … I’m not sure we’re handling this right.”
Her tone was grave, she wasn’t responding to his advances and he was already shushing her in response.
“Darla … what are you worried about? Just trust me.”
He pressed his lips to hers then licked them as he pulled back. It was as if he was tasting her on his lips. His hands roamed from her hips to her ass and pulled him into her, pressing her mound against the bulge now ever- present in his pants. Darla exhaled feeling it against her, knowing fully what he wanted, and cursing herself silently at how she was powerless against his masculinity. She found Whitey Smith so very hard to resist, and she kissed him deeply.
His probing tongue parted the slit of her mouth hungrily; darting in as if it were his manhood thrusting inside her. She, in turn, sucked his tongue. Kissing him like this made Whitey growl, and Darla knew it drove him crazy. He released her from the kiss and looked around the lot. Not that he would care, voyeurs would only turn him on more, especially if they saw he was screwing the hot-shot, celebrity attorney, Darla Lovell.
He grabbed Darla’s arm, led her to the hood of the car, and bent her over it. Darla was panting with anticipation. She loved when he dominated her, likely because she was so used to dominating at her job. It was one of the things that attracted her to him, and other powerful, confident men. They didn’t care that she was a powerhouse herself. Darla planted her palms on the hood of the car and looked around while Whitey pushed her skirt up over her ass. She wasn’t wearing panties. She knew better than to wear them around Whitey. He growled seeing her naked ass and quickly unbuckled his pants.
“That’s a good girl. You left those panties home, knowing you were going to see me. I bet you’ve been waiting for my cock all day.”
His zipper dropped and his long, hard, erection sprang forth. Darla moaned hearing the zipper drop, knowing that he’d be inside her in a matter of seconds. She rolled her hips up and arched her back, eagerly waiting for it. When she tried to look back, Whitey guided her face down, his hand in her hair, and pressed it against the hood of the car.
“No, you don’t get to watch. Not today.”
With his fist wrapped around the base of his shaft, Whitey guided his throbbing head against her. First he just teased her opening with it. He was taking his time while her heart was beating faster, not wanting to get caught. She bit her lip for fear she would beg him to do it fast. She knew Whitey liked to play with fire, and right now, instead of taking her quickly in the parking garage, he was waiting it out.
He caressed her with his manhood, and Darla spread her legs a bit more, trying to tempt him inside her. Make no mistake, she wanted him. She loved living on the edge with him, but she was sure that now someone from the prison would find them. In the distance, a horn honked. A car was headed toward them, and now Whitey was really turned on. He saw the car in the distance and thrust full speed in between Darla’s wet folds, causing her to grunt loudly. Her fingernails clawed against the hood of the car as his thickness pushed her silky walls apart.
Keeping himself buried inside her, he waited for the car to get closer before thrusting again. Darla’s walls clenched around his steel. Whitey chose this moment to light up a cigarette.
“Oh look … I think that might be the mayor’s car.”
He pumped her again hard, then rolled his hips while he took a drag of his cigarette. “Would you like the mayor to see how naughty you are, Darla?”
Darla whimpered, her body giving way to how hard he felt buried inside her. She felt her nipples harden against the cool metal hood of the car.
“Whitey … please.”
It was all she could muster as her need grew stronger. She had half a mind to beg him to finish fast, and half a mind to beg him to make it last. She lifted her head to see the car coming nearer. Part of her breathed a sigh of relief that it was not the mayor. Another part of her wished it was, because the dangerous line she was walking with Whitey made her feel completely alive inside!
Flicking his cigarette to the side, Whitey bent his torso over her body, both of his big rough hands splayed on the hood, and pumped her fast, with conviction.
“I bet you would like the mayor to pull that car over and join us, wouldn’t you?”
His own words drove him harder and faster inside her. They were both already close to a powerful orgasm. The oncoming car seemed to take forever to reach them.
Darla nodded as part of the fantasy, but the excitement for her was that she was never quite sure if Whitey would actually stop the car. She knew it wasn’t the mayor, but still... Whitey always managed to keep her on that edge of ‘do you dare’. Her body was aching for release now. She was so near.
“No. I wouldn’t want him to join us. I’d want him to watch you take me … because I’m yours.”
She braced herself feeling her pleasure surge, then crest into a mind-blowing orgasm that left her twitching and writhing underneath him.
Whitey licked his lips.
“That’s right baby…” He gave her a quick slap to the ass as he pumped his now erupting cock deep inside her. “This is all mine, and don’t you forget it.”
She had passed the test, so he rewarded her. He rode it out, and when he was empty, he slowed his pace and pulled out of her. Darla sighed deeply as she pushed her body up from the car.
She moved to push her skirt back down, knowing it would be ruined.
“This WAS Chanel.”
Whitey just laughed.
“I’m sure you got twenty more just like them back at Triumph Towers, sweetie-pie.”
He moved around to her car door, and opened it for her with a flourish of his arm.
“Your chariot awaits.”
Darla offered half a smile. She didn’t have twenty more in her closet. This was vintage. She did her best to keep her thighs together as she walked toward him.
“Can you just see if there’s a napkin in my glove box?”
She didn’t want to bend or move. Whitey just stared at her, and Darla understood exactly the meaning behind the stare. Whitey wanted her to ruin her skirt. She would not be permitted to wipe herself of his seed. She would be required to wear it like a badge, at least until she dropped him off. Then she would return to Triumph, and somehow get to her apartment discreetly to change. She slid into the driver’s seat and he shut the door.
“Good girl.”
Just then the car drove by and Darla could see in her mirror that it was a little old lady. She couldn’t help but to laugh, as that was certainly not the mayor.