They'd driven for almost half an hour before he pulled his hand from hers as he reached to turn down the volume of the radio. If he was excited or nervous still, he wasn't showing it now.
"Five minutes from now we'll be pulling into a spot in front of a store that caters to impulses and the physical pleasures of adults," he said, comfortable as if they were talking about a trip to the grocery. "In the glovebox, you'll find two envelopes, one white, one black. In the white one you will find $100, you can spend as much or as little as you like on anything you choose when we get there. In the black envelope is another $200, but you'll have to, uh, earn that."
She looked at him, assessing his words and tone but said nothing as she leaned forward to open the glovebox and retrieve the envelopes. The white one was only tucked closed, so she opened it and smiled a small devious smile. The black envelope was sealed. She studied it patiently, and finally squinting slightly, she held it out while she asked, "Okay, I'll bite. How do I 'earn' what's in this one?"
Fighting the urge to blurt the entire plan out, he composed himself slowly, fighting how much he anticipated this moment, but he did his best to stay calm, and nodded, "Open it."
As she tore the flap from the back of the envelope, he tapped the interior light on her side so she could see. She noticed that with the cash there was a small handwritten card. She pulled it out and began to read to herself the words written in red ink on the heavy ivory card.
"Sweets- The first night with you, you surprised me. It's my turn to surprise you now with an encore of sorts. Each time you bring yourself off before we reach the parking lot you'll take fifteen dollars from the black envelope as your own. Each time you make that beautiful pussy cum on your fingers and bring those soaked fingers to my lips, each time you let me taste you, you'll add another ten.
I know you can make yourself cum quickly. The catch is the last hundred. You'll need to cum at least four times; to feed me your dripping fingers four times before we park to take the whole envelope...
I'm guessing that you're wet right now and while I thinks that is sexy, you are wasting time."
She stared at the words on the card for nearly 30 seconds while her pulse quickened. He was right, she was wet now. She tossed the envelope on the dash in front of her, turned to him and said "Fuck you," as she lifted her hips up, her ass out and slid her hand into her jeans.
"Later, Sweets," he replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Right now, I'm focusing on keeping us on the road and trying not to stare."
"You planned this?" she asked, feeling her body starting to react to the situation unfolding around her and to her touch. Was that excitement over this primal side to the man on her left?
She closed her eyes and imagined lovers touching her, their fingers inside her, the lips on her. She pressed on faster as she remembered squeezing him so hard when she came riding him that he was forced out of her the first night, she remembered being full in a way she couldn't describe to him but knew she liked. She remembered feeling his hard cock in her hands, the heat that came from it, the desire to taste it, to ride him, to consume him.
"I did. And I've got a few other surprises lined up," he said quietly, while having to adjust the way he was sitting as he became aroused at the sight of her.
"Play with my nipples." she demanded as she began to increase the pace and intensity of her breathing.
He reached across the car and started to feel her through her clothes. His instinct was to tease, but fair was fair and he was turned on, so he lifted her bra, circled the nipple of her left breast twice, then pinched it hard, making her shout.
"Ahhhh!" she said while the pain and the pleasure engulfed her.
"Jesus, really?"
She pulled her hand from her pants and stuck two fingers in his mouth, letting him lick and suck them for mere seconds before taking them from his mouth.
"That's one," he counted as he watched her lift her shirt and bra exposing her breasts, then use both hands to yank down her pants. He reached for the interior light, to turn it off as she exposed more of herself.
"Leave it," she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled it to her right nipple.
-- FOUR HOURS EARLIER --
The rain fell with no real authority, a steady enough drizzle to be annoying and make you cold if you happened to be out in it too long, but it was not yet cats and dogs. After lowering the door, her wool gloved hand clutched the mass of damp paper, then tipped the mailbox closed again in a single motion. As the window hummed its way back up, Amy Sweistack quickly surveyed the stack left by the USPS.
"Crap," she spoke to herself reviewing the days' haul, "junk, not junk, junk and crap." The shape and red paper of the only item determined to be not junk today implied Christmas card, but it lacked the expected, if not obligatory, mistletoe or Santa and with a birthday before the New Year it wasn't out of the norm for it to be a card. It didn't scream to be opened so it was easy to toss onto the passenger seat with the glossy circular for princess or duck themed personal checks and collectible but creepy-as-fuck porcelain dolls.
She pulled in the drive, gathered up the required mobile pieces of her life, the keys, smokes, and phone while she used the mail as a poorly constructed substitute for an umbrella, and made her way into the house closing the door behind her.
She traveled fewer days now than she used to, but today was a particularly good trip; one she could make it home from at the end of the day. Home had changed a lot in the last year. She'd be "celebrating" a birthday soon that would keep her in her early forties but she passed for a decade younger than she was, maybe more.
Amy had hair that ran shades of light brown to what you could call dirty blond. Coupled with legs and an ass that stop traffic, she would catch attention even if they only saw her from behind. Anyone lucky enough to see her coming toward them was treated to a smile that was contagious and real. It extended to her blue eyes and drew just enough attention to make you forget that you were just caught staring at her tits. They hadn't changed since she was in her twenties, so that was easy to do.
Smart, funny, and sexy, she is the woman guys want to meet. They hoped to bang and keep a hold of her. Women would mentally be shipping her in minutes with a brother or a best friend, if they weren't looking for something for themselves, but she was friendly and soon they would be asking her to join them on their next girls' night out.
A day trip meant she would be home with enough time to check on everyone and still be ready for the start of the weekend. She felt her phone buzz while she was talking but she never checked it while she was still having a conversation with anyone. Somehow, she knew the person on the other end could tell; she could tell. Sometimes she would forget to check, sometimes she was simply in the middle of a hundred things. When she hung up, she made her way to her text messages. Three new messages were read and replied to and she still had an hour and thirty-five minutes before her dinner date would be in the driveway.
Calling Cal a dinner date would not really be accurate. She wasn't really sure what he was anymore, and wasn't sure a label was appropriate for the moment any way. They'd known each other since about the time they were learning to drive.
Almost ten years ago they'd kissed during a night out; a really good kiss. So good it required a couple immediate follow ups just to be sure it wasn't a fluke. She'd always worried it could be weird, while he never did. Instead he worried he could be wrong, so it happened later than it should have.
The jury came back unanimous though, that was definitely not weird. What it was, as it turned out, was too late, but it stuck with her. Funny how that works sometimes. They'd stayed close, visits, birthdays, parties, texts and the like but the spark that night never happened again. When she finally made the decision to return home to help care for and be closer to family, the chance to reconnect was bound to follow even if it wasn't exactly well planned.
As far as Cal Berchmann was concerned, the rain was a pain in the ass. Where there had once been thin, blonde hair there was now was a shaved head that let rain simply roll down his face. When it was cold like this, it was much less than pleasant. Sporting a beard that gave up more of the copper red to grey each year, he could look intimidating but the minute he smiled that was out the window. He was slower to get moving nowadays, the effect of a lifetime of carrying more weight than what the body was designed to haul. He was bright, had a sense of humor and quick wit, a knack for trivia and lyrics and had finally regained some of the confidence he'd had before life had got a little sideways on him.
