Torque by Mysti Holiday


Sandra kicked the flat tire and growled. Stuck out the in middle of nowhere on some unmapped dirt road was not exactly her idea of vacation. So much for trusting her GPS. She sighed and opened her trunk, reaching inside for the lug wrench and praying the mechanic hadn’t torqued the damn nuts too tightly for her to get off or she’d go back and torque his nuts.

She jammed the wrench on and twisted, to no avail. Before she could even register that she had company, two huge masculine hands covered hers and added their strength. The nut slipped and the wrench turned sideways quickly, knocking her off balance and into her rescuer. He fell back onto the road and she landed in his lap, an awkward position since she hadn’t even seen his face, especially since a swelling hardness began to grow underneath her ass.

“God, I’m sorry.” She turned to face him, planning to push herself up on her feet, but was mesmerized by ice blue eyes in a deeply tanned face.

“I’m not.” He grinned and shifted slightly, rubbing his erection against her. Instead of feeling threatened by his gesture, her pussy dampened and her gut clenched with arousal.

“Thanks. Do you think you can get the rest off?”

He clasped her hips and lifted her off his lap, rising slowly but not moving his hands. “Honey, you’d be surprised what I can get off.” Her turned her to face the car and guided her hands to the wrench. “Let’s get you all taken care of.”

Her blood hummed with arousal, but she positioned the wrench on the next nut, shuddering as he once again slipped his hands over hers, thumbs running up and down the side of her palms. He made no secret of his own state, pressing his cock into the crack of her ass and moving it up and down a few inches until she couldn’t help but moan, low in her throat.

He took one hand from hers and ran it down her thigh until his fingers found the hem of her skirt. With a slow deliberation that nearly drove her wild and did cause her to drop the wrench to the ground, he lifted the material up past her hips. “No panties? What kind of woman are you?”

When she would have turned to face him, he pressed her against the car and held her in place, raining warm kisses down her neck and nibbling her shoulder. The other hand reached around her to cup her pelvis, splaying out and pressing her ass even harder against his cock. She writhed when one finger dipped down to brush her clit, to moisten itself in her juices and then back up to flick the swollen nub.

She reached around behind, grabbing his hips and kneading with desperate fingers. “Please.”

His lips brushed her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Please what?”

She turned her head sideways to capture his lips with hers, parting them in need. Her tongue slipped out, tentatively reaching for his, but when they touched there was nothing tentative about it. His lips ground against hers, tongues circling in a fervent dance of sex. Little mewls of desire vibrated in her throat and she fought against being held in place.

His rock hard body didn’t move, but he pulled back from her mouth a scant centimeter. “Please what?”

“I want to feel you.” She tugged at his jeans, then pulled the T-shirt from the waist band, frustrated at not being able to touch him more.

He angled his pelvis away just enough to unbutton his pants and slide them down, returning immediately to his position against her, but this time his warm skin lay on hers and she rejoiced, indicating her pleasure by welcoming him between her ass cheeks and sliding up and down his hardness.

“You’re gonna finish things before we even get started if you keep that up.” His palms moved around her, under her tank top and up, finger tips dancing across her erect nipples and sending tiny bolts of electricity to her core. Her clit throbbed and she started to think she’d be climaxing without him anywhere near her cunt she was so turned on by him, his touch, his scent, his voice.

He played with her nipples, pinching them between calloused fingers and sucking on her neck until she knew she’d bear his mark. But she wanted more, needed more.

“Please…” She squirmed against him, her breath coming in short bursts.

“Please what?” She felt his mouth lift in smile against her collarbone.

“I’m so fucking close to coming and I want you inside me when I do. Please. Now.”

She heard a crinkle of foil and nearly cried with relief at the thought of having his cock in her wet channel, throbbing and thrusting until she was dizzy with pleasure. He grabbed her hips and tilted her pelvis up, then parted her ass checks and flicked the head of his cock down her wet slit and back up to her hole and down again, moistening every part of her.

“Hang on, baby.”

She leaned over the hood of the car just as he pressed his cock into her pussy. At the same time, he slid his thumb into her rectum, moistened with her own juices and the double entry sent her sailing over the edge with a cry.

His balls slapped against the back of her thighs as his thrusts became deeper, harder and faster. The thumb came out of her ass and his grasp tightened so much she’d probably have bruises on her hips but she didn’t care. Another orgasm started building and she reached for it, rocking her hips into his, begging for him to give her even more.

His breathing came in short gasps and she knew he was reaching his climax, so she reached one hand down to her clit and rubbed herself, wanting to come with him. Just as she began to shatter for the second time, he came with a groan and buried himself in her, letting her convulsing walls squeeze the last bit of juice from his cock.

He bent over her, letting his chest rest gently against her back and reached up to link his left hand in hers. Their matching wedding rings clinked softly as he did, and she smiled.

“Thanks for rescuing me, Greg. How’d you know I needed you?”

He laughed softly, his chest vibrating against her. “I was tired of waiting at the cabin, so I took a walk. The sight of you bent over that tire was more than I could handle.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Besides, I knew you wouldn’t have any panties on since we were meeting for the weekend and one look at that ass pressed against your skirt had me hard as granite.”

“Happy anniversary, honey.”

“Back atcha.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Let’s go for ten more years.”

About the author: Mysti Holiday is the pseudonym of a very busy SAHM who dreams of warm climes and hot bodies. Most people know she writes, but not what she writes about: sexy men and the wanton women who love them. She’s married to a wonderful man who happily sacrifices himself for research, and she spends most of her days dreaming of interesting and unusual situations in which to place her characters. But most of all, she’s a sucker for a happy ending. Visit her at http://www.menagerieauthors.com or http://www.menagerieauthors.blogspot.com

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