Her Buring Desire - Sex Stories

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Her Buring Desire

Date: 11/13/2014, Categories: Fetish, First Time, Interracial Sex, Author: gizmobbcguy, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

For a moment, I notice that my panties are still wet with my juices and worry that I might leave a damp spot on his seat cushion. He opens the driver's side door and sits down, a mere ten inches from me. I am frozen. If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch him. I don't dare. He starts the engine and turns on the heat. "It'll be warmer soon. This car has a decent heating system." I nod. "So, where do you live?" he asks. I clear my throat. "56 Butler Terrace. About ten minutes from here. Take a right onto Fergus Street and then just keep going till you hit Roosevelt Ave, on the left. Then take a right at the stop sign." "Ah, I know where that is. My b*****r used to live off of Roosevelt. Buckle up, please." I notice that I haven't bothered to strap myself in and reach for the seatbelt, my shaky hands making it difficult to get a decent grip. He smiles affectionately and reaches across my seat, deftly yanking the belt over my chest and snapping it into place. My cheeks betray me. "Thanks," I mumble. "Not a problem." Glancing over his shoulder, he backs out of the parking space and commences the short ride to my house. We sit in silence for a few moments until he decides to switch on the radio. The car fills with the intellectual babble of NPR as I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead. "Sorry I, uh, disappeared for a bit. I had to take a phone call." His voice is even but I can recognize the slight change in pitch on the last two words: phone call. "That's okay," I ... say, stealing a quick glance in his direction. "I just feel – since I offered to help you earlier, it may have been rude of me to then take a call and make myself unavailable." Our eyes meet for a brief second and I immediately realize what his game is. He is trying to determine whether or not I heard anything while he was pleasuring himself in the back room. In that moment, the thought occurs to me that our dynamic has changed. Right now, in this vehicle, I am the one with the power. If I say nothing, he will assume I either didn't hear anything or that I am oblivious to what actually went on. If I confront him, then he'll be burdened with the task of convincing me that it was something else or be f***ed to come clean and beg for my discretion. If today were any other day, I may have opted to keep my mouth shut, to deny any knowledge of what happened behind that office door. But something transpired between us and that heavy slab of wood. Watching this man overcome with desire, losing himself in little more than the mere sound of that mystery woman's voice and the imagery she fed him, awoke something inside me. Contained within her voice was an awe inspiring amount of feminine sexual power, so much so that he was positively enslaved to it. Why couldn't I wield such power? Halted beneath the glow of a red light against the impending dusk, I can feel him studying me. I turn to look at him, forcing myself to maintain eye contact longer than I'm generally comfortable – which ...