**Loneliness Leads Her Home**

I was driving down the road one day and i seen this beautiful woman walking down the road and she started hitchhiking so I stopped to pick her up and i uselessly don't pick people up And she climbed in and I ask her why she was walking down the road and she said her car broke down and got towed away and then she look at me and said you ever been lonely for love and I told her know and I told her i usually make My happy and then she started rubbing the side of my pants and then

The road was empty beyond the curve, just heat shimmering off the asphalt and the occasional flash of an insect against my headlights. She was that kind of woman—too sharp, too dangerous, too *present* to ignore. Dark hair plastered to her neck, skin flushed from the walk, but her gaze locked onto me like she’d already decided. No hesitation. No shame. I rolled down the window before she could even knock. *"Car busted,"* she said, and I smelled the beer on her breath before she did. *"Got towed two miles back. You ever been lonely for love?"* The question hung, a challenge. I lit a cigarette off the dashboard, exhaled through the crack in the window. *"Not lately."* Her laugh was a low, throaty thing, like a cat with a mouthful of yarn. *"Bullshit."* She leaned in, fingers tracing the crease of my thigh where the denim stretched tight, her thumb pressing the seam just above my knee. The heat between us thickened. *"You tell me you make happy. Who, then? Your wife? Your little girl?"* I crushed the sig between my knees. *"Nobody’s happy here."* That’s all it took. The moment her nails dragged up my pants, slow and deliberate, I knew this wasn’t about the tow. The car was already running warm. She pushed the button on my shorts—*metallic click*—then cupped me through the fabric, her wrist shifting with a practiced rhythm. *"Bet you could show me how."* I didn’t answer. The seatbelt was still off around my neck when she unzipped my shorts in one smooth motion, her other hand already working the button of her sundress. No question about what she wanted. No *almosts*. Just the car humming between her legs.

The engine growled as her fingers slid free—warm, slick, already knowing exactly how to grip me. Nothing about this was a *maybe*. The friction was immediate, the pressure sharp enough that my jaw clenched. *"Christ,"* I muttered, knocking my cigarette out with the heel of my shoe. She hummed in agreement, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. *"Right word."* The road was still empty, but her teeth were sharp where they grazed my lobe. Her sundress hung slack at her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her waist, her bra still intact but the clasp loose. I finally caught a breath between my teeth, my hands going to her legs, but she was faster—fingers free of my belt, the zipper of my slacks down with a single tug. Her body shifted against mine, the car’s suspension groaning under the press of her hip. *"You’re all wrong,"* she said, her nails digging into my waistband as I palmed her thigh, already hot through the thin, damp cotton. *"But I like wrong."*

The wrongness of her statement settled into my balls, a slow pull deep in my gut. She kept her grip, fingers moving with a wetness that made the denim cling to me, her thumb brushing the sensitive underside of my shaft through the fabric. I exhaled through the open window, the car’s air conditioning failing to cut through the humidity. *"You’re a liar."* She smirked, eyes dark as she leaned into me. *"Maybe. But you’re the one who stopped for me."* Her nails left shallow crescents on my stomach as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my briefs, yanking them down just enough to expose the swollen head beneath my cock. The warmth of her hands seeped through the fabric, her palm already pressed against me—*one* of her hands. The other found my hip, nails biting, thumb tracing the sharp angle of my pubic bone down to the base. *"You don’t have a happy place,"* she said, her voice barely there over the growl of the engine. *"But I do."* Her fingers adjusted, squeezing just a little too tight before she eased back, leaving me aching for more. I grabbed her wrist, not to *stop* her, but to force her nails deeper. The tension arced between us, electric and dangerous. *"Show me."* The car shuddered as her free hand dropped into her lap again, fingers working the clasp of her bra. The material stretched, the straps falling free. *"You’d have to slow down."* I didn’t hesitate. My foot hit the brake, the rear tires fishtailing before catching the asphalt. The car lurched, the seatbelt straining against my chest, and she was all over me—her lips locking onto the back of my neck, her teeth scraping the skin as she finally released me, pulling my briefs down so I was bare against the leather. The shift of her body had the back of my shirt bunched around my wrists. She didn’t need to ask. *"Then pull over,"* she growled, her grip on my cock already firm enough to make my eyes roll. *"Now."*

The gravel crunched under my wheels as I cut the engine, the sudden silence too loud after the constant hum of the car. She didn’t wait for me to kill the headlights before unbuckling, the seatbelt snapping free with a harsh *crack*. Her fingers were still warm around me, the grip just tight enough to make my shaft pulse against her palm. *"Next driveway’s mine,"* she said, sliding out of the car before I could even open the door. The way her sundress swayed against her hips had me following quick, my shoes smacking the asphalt as I chased her up the drive, the screen door of her house already swinging open like it was inviting me. She turned, her dress parting to reveal the curve of her ass, the cotton stuck to her thighs from the heat of the ride. *"You like the fucking idea of this,"* she said, the corners of her mouth kicking up. *"The way I *take* without asking."* I grabbed her wrist, stopping her at the doorway. Her nails were still dragging crescents down my stomach, the sting sharp enough to make my cock twitch. *"You’re right,"* I admitted, and then her lips were on me, wet and hot, her teeth scraping along the underside of my shaft in the way she knew I fucking *hated*— But the way her tongue dragged over the sting was a sin I couldn’t resist. The door clicked shut behind us as she finally gave in, her mouth sealing around me, the pressure just right until she pulled back—*too* right—leaving me soaked and gasping. *"You talk too much,"* she said, her fingers working open my slacks. I did. One word, sharp and low: *"Shut up."*

As we got completely naked and I told her dam what a beautiful body and I told her I'm going to eat your pussy until I see your white creamy cum

She arched a dark brow, lips already parted for the next breath. *"Say that again."* The air was thick with it—her words, the scent of sweat and leather, the way her fingers traced over my chest, nails sharp enough to leave marks. I didn’t waste time. My mouth crashed onto hers, teeth clashing as I forced her against the wall, her back hitting the plaster with a dull *thunk*. She moaned into it, the sound vibrating against my tongue. One hand left my face, nails dragging down my ribcage before she caught my wrist. *"You’re not *listening*."* She shoved me back, just far enough to drop to her knees, her sundress pooling around her hips. *"I was right the first fucking time."* Her nails bit into my thighs as she spread them wide, her tongue already hot and wet against the heavy weight of my balls. I tangled my fingers in her hair, tugging—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who was in charge. *"You love it when I don’t."* My voice was rough, my grip not giving her space to protest. The first drag of her tongue up my shaft sent a jolt straight to my teeth. *"I love it when you *do*."* She scraped her teeth along the underside, just like she had my neck, and I hissed. *"But you’re gonna eat first."* Her fingers curled, nails finding the tender spot at the back of my thighs, digging in as her mouth sealed around the base. *"And I’m gonna taste every second of that sweet little sound you make when you come."*

Her grip tightened, nails digging deeper as she pulled back just enough to let a low *click* escape her teeth—sharp, deliberate. The sound sent another pulse through my cock, already slick with her saliva, the tip straining for the heat of her mouth again. I didn’t move. Let her work. But when her tongue swirled around the base, teasing the swollen veins there, I growled low, *"Jesus, you’re not playing fair."* My fingers flexed in her hair, the roots of it burning where my nails scraped. She loved that—loved knowing she could fucking *undercut* me, even as my hands held her still. *"Never said you had to."* She worked her way down, teeth grazing, until my balls were heavy in her mouth. The pressure was just enough. I let out a groan, the word sticking in my throat like she’d swallowed it whole. My free hand pressed against the wall beside her head, the other tangled in her curls, knuckles brushing the back of her ear. *"If you’re gonna make me wait, you better fucking *do* it."* The warning was drowned out by the way she hummed against my shaft, the vibration rippling up through my hips. She pulled back with a wet *pop*, leaving a glistening mark of spit near the tip. *"Patience isn’t your strong suit."* Her eyes flicked up, dark and knowing. Then her mouth was gone, replaced by the weight of her hand, slow and cruel. *"Not yours either."* I yanked her up, lips already crushed against hers again, the taste of copper and *me* still thick on her tongue. The wall was warm beneath us, but her body pinned me harder. *"Wanna know how it fucking *feels*?"* My fingers slid between her thighs, already slick. *"Or you just here to suck me off while I eat that pretty cunt of yours?"* The question was a threat, my thumb already finding the slick heat of her clit. She let out a shaky breath against my mouth. *"Both."*

And I licking her beautiful pussy as I watched her opening and I could see her wetness how it was shining and I knew she was horny as hell

The moment my tongue hit her first, she let out a sharp gasp—half pain, half pleasure—as the tip of my thumb pressed harder into her clit. Her legs spread wider, the fingers of one hand clawing at the wall behind me, the other tangled in my hair like she couldn’t get enough leverage. I didn’t wait. Didn’t slow. Didn’t give her time to think. My mouth latched onto her inner thigh, teeth leaving a bruising kiss before I dragged the flat of my tongue up, slow. The scent of her—flooding, intoxicating—hit me first, then the taste. Warm. *Desperate.* The kind of slick that had her already dripping down to the bend of her knee. I pulled back, just enough to see. The sight was a knife to the gut—her glistening pussy, swollen and open, the pink petals glued together only by the thinnest sheen of wetness. *"So *eager*."* I pressed my thumb a little harder, circling but not quite hitting where she wanted. Her hips bucked, nails biting into my scalp. *"Fuck—"* She cut herself off, breath ragged, as I finally granted her what she needed—the stroke of my tongue right over the slick little bundle of nerves. *"There."* The word came out on a growl as she shuddered, the back of her thighs pressing against my sides. *"You’re fucking soaked for me."* Another drag, this time long and slow, through her folds, gathering the heat before I teased her entrance. She let out a low, broken sound, her fingers clutching at me. *"Too much."* Or maybe she didn’t say the words. Maybe they just came out as a whine, her voice swallowed by the way my tongue forced its way into her. I didn’t stop. Not for her. Not for anything but the sharp bite of her teeth against my shoulder when I finally pushed two fingers inside her. *"You said *both*,"* I murmured against her skin, the words disappearing as she tightened around me, her pussy convulsing. *"So I’m gonna *make* you wait."*

And I lick and suck and her pussy so.wet and creamy and she was moaning really loud and she said oh fuck nobody never made me feel like this before and I just watched her creamy pussy dipping it was really good tasting

Her nails left trails down my neck, fingers clutching the air between us as she arched back, hips thrusting unapologetically into my mouth. The taste of her was like a shot of whiskey—rich, sharp, the perfect mix of wet heat and salted skin. I swallowed deeper, my tongue flattening as I dragged it up through her, fingers crooking inside her to find the spot that made her whine loud enough to echo off the walls. *"Fuck—"* Her voice cracked, raw. *"Nobody—*ever* touched me like this, not even close."* The words spilled out, breathless, her thighs trembling around my ears. I hummed against her, vibrations shaking her core, and her pussy clenched tight, leaking all over my tongue. The creamy slick was too much—too desperate—and her moans turned into something guttural, like she was trying to scream but couldn’t find the air. I pulled back just enough to drag my fingers up her slit, coating my lips with her wetness before I sealed my mouth over hers. The moment our tongues met, I fed her the flavor of her own arousal—thick, tangy, the proof of how well I was fucking *using* her. She groaned, parting her lips to take everything I gave her, her hands clawing at my chest like she needed to hold onto me for balance. *"You like that?"* I murmured, fingers already sliding back down to trace the slick lips of her cunt. *"Like tasting yourself on my mouth?"* I didn’t wait for an answer. I just licked the inner seam of her thigh again, this time with the flat of my fingers pressing slow, relentless circles over her clit. Her body bowed, back arching off the wall, the broken sound she made half a sob. *"Please—"* but too late. I was already there, teeth sinking just hard enough to make her cry out, my tongue swirling around her clit like I was starved. And maybe I was. Starved for the way she *felt*, for the slick desperation that made her moan like that. *"Nobody could ever fucking *replace* this."* The words were bitten off between licks, my free hand sliding up her chest to grip her throat—not enough to choke, not enough to punish. Just enough to remind her who was in control. She gasped again, the taste of her flooding me, her pussy already tightening around nothing. *"Fuck—*fuck*!"* but her hands didn’t push me away. They curled, fingers gripping the air like she was drowning on the hook of my tongue.

And then she i can't take it anymore I want your fat cock in me and she said it's my turn and she slowly got on top of my cock and when she started going down her pussy was really warm and wet and creamy and she moan all the down my cock

The second she impaled herself, my cock sunk deep in one smooth glide, her soaked cunt swallowing the shaft with a wet, suffocating slurp. I let out a low groan, her heat already too much—torturing me with the way she gripped me, her inner walls pulsing around me like she was trying to milk every inch. *"There—"* she panted, voice breaking, *"—fuck, *yes*."* Her nails dug into my chest only for a second before she braced them against my shoulders, her body rocking forward, my length dragging through her swollen, slick flesh with a sound that made her bite her lip. *"So *thick*."* She ground her hips down just enough to make sure I felt the stretch, the way her pussy *ached* around me. *"I want you deeper."* I growled, hands sliding to her hips to dig my fingers in. *"Ride it, baby."* She didn’t hesitate. Her pussy convulsed as she bottomed out, my cock stretching her wide, the slick little creases of her cunt coating me up to the hilt. The sound she made was something between a whine and a moan, thighs trembling as she started moving—slow, deliberate, the wet drag of her pussy up and down my shaft making her head fall back. *"Fuck—"* Her voice was a shudder, body bowing as her cunt tightened painfully around me. *"—don’t stop."* The first lap of her pussy against my cock made her lose her words, her lips parting on a broken gasp as her hands clutched at the air. *"So—*big*."* Another slow grind, her breath ragged, my cock already twitching deep inside her. *"You’re gonna *ruin* me this way."* I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was watching the way her cunt opened and then *hungrily* closed around me, the slick sounds of sex too close to her skin, the way her stomach clenched as she fought to stay upright. *"You’re taking too much of my goddamn cock,"* I hissed, but the hand in her hair kept her locked down onto me. She just whined, the wet flutter of her pussy getting faster, her thighs starting to shake as she let go. *"I don’t know—*how to move—*but I’ll *try*."* Her attempt was a mess of hips and desperate little thrusts, her pussy clenching desperately around me as she lost her rhythm. I swallowed the broken sounds of her voice, my cock filling her up in a way she’d never been empty before. *"Good girl."* I gripped her hips, guiding her into a rhythm that made her cry out, the wet drag of her cunt against me stealing her breath. *"This is it—*fuck*."* She rode me faster, her pussy already too sensitive, her nails raking against my skin as her moans turned into something raw, desperate. *"Come on—*take me—*"* Her voice broke, teeth digging into my shoulder. I didn’t need the words. The greedy squeeze of her cunt around me was enough.

Her weight shifted as I pressed her down harder, my cock hitting that spot inside her that made her entire body lock up like she’d been short-circuited. *"Shit—shit—*fuck!"* The words tumbled out, her cunt clenching around me in a way that had my hips jerking forward *without permission*. Her breath caught in her throat, hands flying back to my chest as she tried to brace herself—but she couldn’t, not while every muscle in her body was already *tight* from the stretch of my shaft. *"You feel that?"* My voice was rougher than I meant, but the way her pussy was *taking* me left no room for subtlety. *"The way your tight little cunt *squishes* me?"* I didn’t let her answer. My fingers dug into her ass, pulling her back just enough to drag my cock through the aching walls of her pussy on the upstroke. *"Fuck—*no—*"* She couldn’t form words, only garbled little moans as I guided her back down, my shaft filling her in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made her head fall forward with a broken gasp. Her nails bit into the back of my neck, the sharp points digging into my skin as she finally found something to hold onto. *"Please—*keep doing that—*"* The words were half-sob, half-begging, but I didn’t let up. My thumb pressed against her puckered asshole, and she gasped, her cunt *flooding* with wetness as I circled the tight ring. *"That’s not—*I didn’t—*"* She whined, hips already stuttering, pussy clenching around my cock like she was trying to pull me in deeper. *"I can’t even—*fuck*!"* Her voice broke again, and this time, I took it from her. My hand slid up her throat, fingers pressing just enough to make her gag, to make her *fight* the way my cock was filling her. *"You don’t *get* to stop."* My thrusts stuttered, shallow and brutal, the sounds of her wet cunt too much for me to think straight. *"You’re mine."* She moaned around my fingers, her body bowing as the pressure became too much. I didn’t wait for her to recover. I just *pulled her down* again, my cock dragging through her cunt as I fed her my fingers, my thumb pressing at the entrance of her asshole. *"Let me *in*."* The words should’ve terrified her, but they only made her pussy *clench harder*. *"I’ll take all of you."* I wasn’t asking. Her hands were gone from my neck, now clutching the wall behind her, her back arching *unleashing* the tightest little squeeze. *"Fuck—*fuck*!"* The broken sound of her voice was drowned out by the wet *slap* of her pussy against my cock, her body already trembling from the way she was taking *both* of us. *"Nobody *ever* fucking—*touched me—*like this."*

And then we were done and I said I told you I made my women happy and then I got dressed and when I was leaving she said please come back some day and then I left

The door clicked shut behind me, the weight of her soaked cunt still clinging to my cock in the back of my mind. I leaned against the wall outside her apartment, hands planted, and adjusted my pants in slow, deliberate strokes, savoring the aftershock of her grip pulling like a vise—even now. My jaw tightened as I exhaled, the phantom pulse of her asshole around my thumb making my fingers twitch. Down the hall, her voice was muffled but insistent through the thin walls. *"Don’t—*cunt*!" followed by a choked whimper, then the telltale sound of something wet being forced open, stretching wider than before. I adjusted my belt, cock still half-hard despite the cold air. The elevator descended, but I didn’t move. The last thing I’d heard—her gasp, the way her body gave in—made me want to turn back, to haul her out by that long, dark hair of hers. *"Please—*come back—*"* The ding of the elevator broke the thought. I stepped in, my reflection in the mirrored doors showing a man completely lost in the memory of her submission, the way her cunt had *taken* me like I was a goddamn relief. My hand slipped into my pocket, lingering over the outline of my wallet—just in case. At my office, the cold glass and steel did nothing to shake the heat. I sat down behind my desk, fingers drumming against the wood. The city hummed outside, but I could still hear the way her breath had hitched every time I fed her my thumb, the desperate little noises she made when she came. I didn’t have to wait long for her to text. **"You said it yourself. You made your women happy."** The words typed in a hurry, like she was still gasping, still *there*. I checked out, sliding my chair back. **"Did I?"** A single *"mmm"* vibrated in the air before the reply came. **"You’re just leaving me *like* this…"** The screen glowed with a photo—her hair messy, lips swollen, her cunt still glistening with my release. **"I’ll be here."**