The Road Less Travelled

Talia’s on holiday alone and curious. A stranger named Christian Clay picks her up, the road stretching empty ahead of them. She leans across the seat, mouth warm around his cock, saliva pooling while her fingers press deeper between his cheeks. He keeps one hand on the wheel. The other finds her hair, guiding her slow rhythm. She pulls off, breath heavy, tongue sliding lower to cradle his balls, wet kisses, careful suction. He pulls the car over. Backseat heat, bodies twisted. She straddles his face. His tongue traces circles, her ass open to him, then a slick finger works inside while she takes him down her throat again. They shift, mouths and hands busy in both directions, slow licks, steady pressure. When he pushes into her mouth again she tastes herself on him, deep and clean, every stroke deliberate. The windows fog, the air thick with breath and skin. Her body rocks with each push of his tongue and finger, her own mouth full and greedy until nothing else matters but the next slow, wet glide.