CHAPTER THIRTEEN: BELGIUM
Andy
Fucking Carl. I thought I had him on Turn Twelve, but he’s proving slippery, increasingly cunning with every round. Spa’s my favorite circuit, even over Monza. I should have nailed it but I came up short—not that it’s my fault.
Even the commentators thought my car was underpowered. Passing was an impossibility. “Perhaps they should swap cars,” they joked, but standing in second place was no laughing matter.
I stalk around the back of the pits following the race looking for a place to drive my fist into, but Steven’s missing and the mechanics evaporate when they see me, clearly sick of my tongue-lashings, however warranted they may be.
I do manage to find Sara. She looks better than ever, light and airy in white like the first time we met. Hands in my pockets, I approach her in the middle of the garage. “You’re back.”
“I am,” she smiles.
“How was it?” I realize what I’ve said. “Fuck, I don’t mean… You know.”
“It’s fine,” she smiles, coming closer. “Look, don’t worry about the race. Carl is only ahead by three points. You can easily catch him in Italy.”
“I will.”
“That’s the spirit.”
She looks down at her shoes before lifting her eyes back up to meet mine, blue on blue. “How about dinner tonight?”
What is this? A parallel world?
I look at her with an air of suspicion. “Did I say something last night? I know I spoke to you, but for the life of me I can’t remember what I said.”
“Only your little fun and games with Stacey.”
Shit. “Oh, yeah. Probably not the world’s best idea. I was going to delete the photos the Daily guy gave me anyhow.”
“Forget her,” Sara continues. “Dinner. What do you say?”
“I say yes.”
“You know a spot?”
I smile. “I do.”
*
Sara let me pick out my own suit tonight. Technically, I’m obliged to wear Caliber attire in public, but she wanted to see what my fashion sense is like. Given the look on her face, she’s not disappointed.
And Sara? I have a hard-on halfway to the moon a second after I take her in. The dress she wears is red, silky, strapless and short—real short. Every eye in the restaurant is on her. A young waiter even drops a glass of wine when he passes, his eyes snapping away from her ass. I give him the ol’ ‘I got this’.
“How many Michelin stars does this place have?” Sara queries, dabbing at the bird’s nest of quail eggs and angel hair in front of her.
“Does it matter? There are so many good restaurants here you could throw a dart at a map and still come up trumps. The Belgians know their food… and wine. Brussels is famous for it.”
Two glasses more and I’m speaking far too frankly for this hour. Sara soaks it all in, eyes gleaming and open. She listens, responds—a far cry from the cold snap she was fronting when we first met.
Main course out of the way, I pick up the menu. “Dessert?”
The change that comes over her catches me completely off guard. She leans forward, cleavage bulging and lips pouted. “I’m all yours.”
I look down between the table to find a foot in stockings jammed right against my dick, toes curled against my shaft. I follow the natural trajectory across, and yes, it’s her alright.
“Sara?”
The tables are close, but not that close. Anyone could see this.
“Are you complaining?” she purrs.
“No, definitely not.”
She smiles, pure sex. “Drink.”
I take a sip of wine while her foot continues to press and prod against my package. I’ve never been so hard. Just the thought of the gauzy satin of her stocking against my trousers is sending me careening towards release.
I look up. Sara’s eyes are cat-like, flecked with gold from the streetlights outside and dripping with arousal. It’s only a split second, but it provides all I need to know.
She twists her ankle and really starts to work at me. God, it feels so fucking good.
I take another sip and half choke as the butt of her heel slides up and down my clothed cock. I’m rock hard, cock trapped in place by my underwear and pressed painfully against the side of my leg. I’m not used to this, being the, for want of a better word, victim.
She’s rubbing, every move so sensual and practiced. I look around the table and cannot believe no one else has noticed what’s going on here.
Suddenly I’m stiffening further, the familiar roar of an impending orgasm in my ears. My breathing has become ragged, these clothes far too tight.
Faster and faster her foot works rubbing and curling up against me. “I really missed you, Andy. Like, really missed you.”
I think I’m actually going to come in my pants right here at the table. I can feel the blood lifting in my cheeks, my throat suddenly dry.
Oh fuck.
I suddenly leap from the table, catching the edge of it with my knee and trying to spin off to avoid anyone seeing the giant erection I’m packing.
“Andy?” she queries, knowing full well what’s going on. “Everything okay?”
I take my seat again and hold my hand up, announcing with a crack in my voice “Check, please.”
*
The door to my hotel suite has barely closed before Sara’s standing against me, hands on my collar.
Time to take the power back.
I literally throw her onto the bed. She collapses into the middle mattress of the bed legs spread, her red thong a beacon underneath the net of her stockings. I climb onto the bed over her and fill my hand with a breast, her nipple pressing through the fabric into the hard palm of my hand.
I lean down and rub my thumb along her jaw before my tongue disappears into her mouth and we’re finally back together, one in breath.
I taste the fruity wine in her mouth, feel her lips conform and wrap around my own, her heartbeat a hummingbird against my chest. It drums hard and I know the feeling is mutual, that tonight will be night she releases herself to me.
But I want more, always more.
I slide off her, kneeling at the edge of the bed. I pull off her heels, take hold of the top of her stockings, dragging them away while she lies there breathless. The material separates in my fingers and I tear it off, pulling and tugging until her legs are bare.
I discard the stockings and separate her legs, pulling aside the crotch of her thong and finally taking in the pussy that’s been front and center of my fantasies for so long.
It’s beautiful, her slit moist and wet, her plump lips guarding the honey I desperately crave. It’s all so delicate, her hole a glossy cherry ripe for the plunder.
I bury my face between her thighs and lick her front to back in one long stroke, her juices catching on my tongue and staining my lips. I drive my tongue inside her hot channel, let it sit there in her heat and arousal.
She gasps, voice caught. Her hands run through my hair and she bucks against me, moaning my name.
It’s music to my ears.
I tongue her clit and keep the pressure up, her breath stolen and her dress bunched up around my head. It’s suffocating, stifling, but I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Her asshole squeezes against my chin, fingers digging into my scalp harder than they should.
She rises and flutters back down, her thighs scissoring against my ears and her mewing turning into choppy, halted moans.
That’s it, baby. Come for me.
I’m surprised when she pushes my head away. She kneels on the edge of the bed, mouth open and eyes urgent, lifting me to my feet and pulling my belt away.
She unzips me, yanking my pants and boxers down to my knees.
“Sara? You don’t have to—”
She looks up at me with those feline eyes and I know whatever she says will be gospel. “Just shut up and let me suck your cock.”
My shirt is lifted away and her lips move down my chest and over my stomach. They press and depart, press and depart, only lingering, wet warmth in their wake.
They move down lower, converging around my belly button. I tell her to keep going, not to stop, to never, ever stop.
She fishes out my member, her fragile fingers wrapped around my shaft. I can feel her hot in-out breath against the head of it. She holds my cock in both hands and strokes it twice before taking it into her mouth.
I can tell she’s enjoying it by the way her tongue rolls around and the soft purring that follows. It leaves her mouth wet, her tongue trailing down between my sensitive glans and over my shaft. She pulls a testicle into her mouth and massages the soft sphere gently, letting it pop out and in until my hands are on her head and my hips are jerking forward involuntarily.
I cannot believe this is the same girl. Whatever she went through back in the US has washed all her inhibitions away.
Guess you don’t know her as well as you thought.
All for the better.
She dribbles over my cock, absolutely soaks it with saliva and rolls her hand around it, the slobber gathering between her fingers and making loud smacking sounds every time she draws her fist down.
I flinch and spasm. I’m sensitive, way, way too horny to survive this.
She watches me with amusement, adds more pressure and takes some away, playing and teasing my cock and balls.
I can’t even remember the last time I had a blowjob this good.
My cock disappears into her throat, her muscles clamping and pressing around my member beautifully.
My cock quivers, balls heavy and ready to release, but it’s too early. I need to draw this out, satisfy her first.
I pull her up to her feet and plant my mouth hard against her. I taste myself on her lips, the soapy brine of my cock on the surface of her tongue as it curls up against the roof of my mouth.
I throw her back onto the bed.
She laughs, a schoolgirl, the mood light and fun and so far from my usual encounters with whichever girl wants her five minutes of fame.
“Is this what you want?” Sara draws her legs up, her feet flat. Her butt rounds out and her thong is a red so vibrant it’s like someone’s trailed lipstick down the crack of her ass.
I pull off my pants, tearing the wrapper from my wallet with my teeth and sheathing myself while she shakes and quivers in wait.
I come forward, lift the strap of the thong away from Sara’s pussy and slip a finger inside to the second knuckle. It glides easily into her wetness, her heat churning around it.
She lifts off the bed as I finger-fuck her, slippery arousal from her flushed sex running free from her hole.
There’s gasping, moaning, but I cannot tell from which mouth it comes, only the slick, squelching sounds of my fingers filling her tight slot audible.
I climb up her body, never letting my fingers leave her body. Sara’s hand moves between us to tighten around my cock.
I kiss her neck, suck the easy skin there between my lips, her pulse rippling.
I can’t take it anymore. I flip her over, pull her thong away until it’s stretched wide from her thigh, snapping with a sudden violence and whipping across to the wall. I hold her ass with both hands.
This is it.
Sara reaches behind herself and places my cock against her opening. “Please,” she begs.
I place a hand on her back and sink myself inside her. We moan in unison, my cock sliding deep into her tight confines before I pull back and hammer forward again.
Before long I’m up to my balls in the steamy grip of her hot sex, drawing myself back and driving forward hard, filling her to completion with every stroke.
She draws away, spinning and taking me by the shoulders. She casts me onto my back and throws a leg over my body before settling down upon my member, the act hidden by the sheeny puddle of her dress.
“Fuck,” she exhales, a hand on my chest for support as my cock plunges into her body.
I fuck her harder and faster, my body swinging up from the bed to smash against her ass. I’ve been craving this for the longest time, neither of us holding back.
I wipe her hair away from her cheeks, a fine sheen of sweat at her hairline, her nails clawing into my chest as she lifts and falls, her scent overpowering.
We’re in the air-conditioning of the suite, but still there’s a strong convection of warmth cooking my core. My need, my want for her is so desperate my cock twitches in her folds already on the edge.
I lift myself up and take her mouth again, one hand combing through her hair as I drive against her, heat and desire rolling off her in waves, her hole hot and willing.
She closes her eyes, whimpering, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
Her thighs are hot, milky, and soft as they squeeze against me.
I shift a hand under her dress and rub her clit in large, concentric circles.
I try to suck in as much of this as I can, fill my memory for all time with this sensation as her muscles clench around me.
“Please,” she breathes out, a genuine plea, “please don’t stop”.
I have no intention to.
I fuck her harder still, the two of us working together to come, a race to the top.
My competitive streak takes over. I tweak the bud above her hole, her mouth caught in a war between pain and pleasure. That image almost makes my cock fire off, but I resist, drawing back and plunging over and over into her increasingly sloppy hole, her juices thickening around my length as she begins to move against me, her butt lifting upwards as I pound her ruthlessly.
I huff and drive myself into her body, pistoning my cock into her sex with as much speed as I can muster.
I press a little harder against her clit, her pubic bone grinding down against my chest and forcing her orgasm. She collapses onto me, biting into my shoulder as her entire body jerks and flaps by unseen forces. Her pussy contracts and opens in quick succession with her orgasm, squeezing until my balls literally ache with anticipation.
Mouth against my hair, breath ragged, she squeezes her thighs around me, milking me with her pussy.
“Come,” she says.
All I can focus on is the exquisite snap of sensation that occurs when my cock gives in and I release, emptying myself inside her.
It goes on and on, endlessly. Finally, she lifts herself from me, drawing up against my side. Her cheeks are burning and her eyes are glazed over in heat. Her chest heaves furiously, up and down. I look down at my cock, the condom streaked with our juices.
“You’re still hard,” she notes, and I am, rock hard, in fact. It hasn’t happened in years. It stands tall and proud, throbbing for more.
She looks at my cock quizzically as it swings there in air, twitching involuntarily. She reaches down and pulls the condom away, bending at the waist and extending her tongue, swiping a single drop of cum off the slit and locking her eyes with my own.
My head drops back into the mattress.
Andy Fortes, what have you gotten yourself into?