1. Liquor Raid


    Date: 8/18/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: pantywriter, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    understanding instantly that it was a raid, but her man clenched her hand in his, and nodded once towards a dark corner, and then winked. Terrified at the prospect of arrest, she nodded consent to his lead. He easily found the small door in the back upper corner of the room, popped it open, and crawled into the space between the false wall and the real wall. He pulled her into the dimly lit, dusty place, and planted his index finger over his lips: keep quiet. He put the false wall back into place. Not fifteen seconds later, agents burst into the place and began tearing it apart. He moved her further down the wall. It got darker and darker, with only one tiny sliver of light visible but it was over her head. He took her hands, and guided her along in the darkness, until they found the thick wooden post. She held onto it, and he stood behind her. His hands dropped to her hips; in an instant, despite the situation, she felt a sudden resurgence of the same unspoken need that she'd felt on the dance floor. This time, however, she was in the darkened hideout of the speakeasy with this man, and his hands were on her hips. Her hips! His whisper sounded impossibly loud in her ear, yet she knew that it carried no trace. “Keep absolutely still and quiet. They won't find us here.” How can you be so sure? She could not ask the question. Instead, unable to transmit a response any other way, she pushed back gently into him, the rounded curves of her buttocks pressing against the front of ...
    his pants. When she did that, she felt his hands grip her more tightly on her hips. He held her tight against his body, and then she felt it, a strange hardness pushing against the two cheeks of her backside. She wanted to giggle as she realized that it was his manhood rising, and at the same time the realization stole her breath. Her own private parts woke suddenly, feeling thick and damp with her own natural moisture. She pushed back into him, not hard, not yet, but more than she had just done earlier. She wanted him to know that she felt his prick. One hand remained holding her hip. The other slid up her flank and then to her front, before coming to a final rest atop her firm, upright breast. He gave her a squeeze through her top, and she slipped her bottom lip into her mouth to keep from moaning with pleasure. She heard the cops barking orders out there, which somehow made it feel all the more wild that he was pawing at her body. She pushed back harder. She had never felt her slit between her legs feel so damp, so thick and tight and full. She understood that he was going to put his prick in there, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to feel it. She wiggled her hips from side to side, teasing his manhood into a harder state. Her pulled his hand away, and then she felt movement between their bodies. She wanted to gasp, realizing that his hand was busy at his pants. Once that was done, he dipped, and she felt the bottom of her dress being lifted up, up, up. She shivered ...
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