Her hands gripped the edge of her skirt in an attempt to draw it back down to her knees.

  “Keep it up.” He growled the response, pinning her with his deep blue eyes in warning.

  “But—”

  “Keep. It. Up.” He flicked his blinker, turning to the middle lane. “Start masturbating and don’t stop until we pull in the driveway. But don’t you dare come.”

  Christ!

  She did her best to keep her hand hidden under the thin tan skirt, regretting that she’d chosen a pencil skirt this morning since this process definitely was hindered by the lack of flowing material.

  Her middle finger easily found her clit, already hard and pronounced between her slick, puffy labia. She circled the nub, her sheath pulsing and spasming. Her back arched against the seat, her hips thrusting even though she was trying to keep her reactions to a minimum.

  She gave Emerson a cursory glance, the corner of his mouth drawn up into a smirk. “You can try to hold back, baby, but I know you. Soon you’ll be writhing, red faced for everyone to see. Are you worried about the other drivers watching? A bicyclist catching a glimpse of that hot cunt?”

  He’s so crude!

  “N-no.”

  “Liar. Should I spank you for lying?” His eyebrow quirked up.

  Right on cue, her sex creamed and her hips jerked, her face flushing in embarrassment at his low chuckle.

  “Mmmm. That seems like a yes. My poor girl needs her bare bottom paddled but I’ve been so busy. It’s okay, sweets, we’ll take care of you. Now, make that pussy drip onto my leather seats.” He slid his own hand down to his pants, rubbing along his length pressed tightly against the seam of his pants.

  Dipping first one finger, and then two, she pumped them into her channel, the moist sounds and her scent filling the small space. Groaning low and deep in her throat, her eyes rolled back and she let her head loll back onto the headrest. With her eyes still closed, she swiveled her hips, grinding on her fingers, her thumb pressing and tapping her clit, throbbing hard and aching with need. Her juices dripped down her fingers, coating her hand now slipping along the slickly coated leather. She bit her lip and struggled with the need to stroke her nipples; they ached, the fabric of her bra felt abrasive along the sensitive furls, but more pressing was her need to come.

  “Oh Jesus! Emerson…I…I’m not sure—” Her clit twitched in a continuous rhythm and she knew she was seconds from an orgasm.

  “Don’t you dare!” His deep growl brought her right to the precipice. She opened her mouth, her body stilling, anticipating the release. Until…

  He insinuated his hand between her legs, pinching her clit so harshly that instead of shouting with ecstasy, she screamed in pain, pushing his hand away violently.

  “Ow!” Her eyes flew open, panting heavily through her nose. She glared at him angrily.

  He pointed his finger at her. “Don’t you look at me that way, little girl. No coming.” He placed his hand back onto the wheel. “Now, play with yourself.”

  Checking her surroundings, she realized that they weren’t far from the apartment they rented.

  I can do this.

  It didn’t take long for her body to regain the momentum it’d lost from his cruel intervention, and she once again found herself writhing and gasping, lost in her arousal.

  “Chels?”

  Her eyes darted open.

  “You may want to stop. Luca and Naomi are in the drive.”

  Shit!

  “Oh my God! Why are these infernal people always around when you’re torturing me?” She tugged maniacally down on her skirt, patting it into place while slipping her stocking covered feet back into her heels. She preened her hair, flipping open the mirrored visor to check her make-up. “Christ! I look like I ran a marathon. My face is all red and sweaty.”

  “You look fine.” He nodded his head toward her window.

  She swiveled her head to see Naomi waving hesitantly and standing right next to Chelsea’s side of the car. She depressed the button, the window sliding down. “Hi, Naomi. Nice to see you.”

  “Nice to see you too. We’re running to Albert Heijn’s. Do you need anything?”

  Luca walked both his bicycle and Naomi’s down the driveway, handing it off to his girlfriend. “Hey!” He bent down to wave at Emerson too.

  “Hi, Luca. How’ve you been?”

  “Well. You?”

  “Things have been going smoothly since we last met. I think we’re all set for groceries, aren’t we Chelsea?”

  Chelsea’s face blushed at the reference to their last meeting, her paddling in the foyer of their apartment. She noticed that Naomi’s face had flushed also. “We need no groceries, but thanks for offering.”

  Naomi smiled back, her gaze moving toward Chelsea’s feet, her eyebrows knitting before she loudly cleared her throat, quickly climbing onto her bike. “We’ll see you two soon. Bye!” She waved to Chelsea and Emerson.

  After they left, Chelsea looked to the floor by her feet and wondered about Naomi’s confusion.

  “Oh dear Lord.” Chelsea threw her head back, closing her eyes and shaking her head in complete mortification.

  “What?” Emerson’s bewildered response came from next to her.

  “I just…” She opened her eyes looking at him. “We have to move. We just…after everything…I just can’t see these people again.”

  “What are you talking about?” The perplexity on his face was quickly being replaced with annoyance.

  She pointed to the slip of material between her shoes. “My panties. She saw my panties on the floor, and I’m sure the smell of my pussy hit her like a wall when the window opened. Please say we’re moving. Please.” She grabbed his arm in total seriousness.

  Emerson laughed. He then continued to laugh way past the amount of time that was necessary, only making her angrier and angrier. “We’re not moving. It’ll be fine.”

  “Says you! You’re not the one who had their ass paddled to the color of a beet in front of them. And you’re not the one who had their panties on the floor.” Her heart raced and she needed air. She flung the car door open, slamming it shut, then walking quickly, her heels clacking on the walk up to the front door before she climbed the stairs to their apartment door. After undoing the lock, she flung it open, tossing her purse and coat onto the kitchen table. Fuming, her chest rose and fell rapidly, her hands fisting tightly on her hips.

  Emerson closed the door quietly behind him, his dress shoes falling heavily on the tiled floor. His arms wrapped around her waist from behind and he lightly kissed the side of her neck. “You need to calm down. Couples do this—we do this—and people are not shocked by sexuality, especially in Amsterdam.” He nibbled and nipped his way down her neck, biting on the sensitive space between her neck and shoulder. “Besides, I like my girlfriend masturbating in the car. It makes driving in traffic much more entertaining than it should be. I’m lucky man.”

  She turned in his arms to face him. “You are!” Dropping her head, fitting it under his neck, she mumbled, “Fuck, Emerson. First they see my bare bottom getting spanked, and then they see my panties. I know it’s okay, but shit. Can’t we fucking have coffee with them first before they see everything?”

  His deep laugh rolled over her, comforting her. “They didn’t see everything. And besides, think about it, it’ll make having coffee more entertaining.”

  She groaned into his chest. “Fuck.”

  He pushed her away. “You’ve said fuck a few times tonight. You must’ve had a stressful day at work. Let’s take care of you.” Picking up her purse and coat, he tossed them to the nearby counter. “I want that skirt off and one of your long legs up with the high heel resting on the table top.”

  Oh! Well, fuck!

  She quickly slid the zipper down, letting the lightweight tan skirt fall to the floor, puddling at her feet, and with no panties on, the air brushed along the moist places as she maneuvered her body in front of the table, getting her balance just right before attempting to lift her leg.

  “Here, let me help you.” Bracing her with a hand on each hip, his hot breath whispered along the back of her neck, her hair pulled up with a barrette onto the back of her head into a messy bun.

  Balancing on her left heel, she easily raised her leg, resting her right high-heeled tan shoe with shiny black accents onto the table. Reaching back with her hands, she gripped an ass cheek of his in each hand, pulling him tightly to her, his cock pressing against the now widely spread divide between her buttocks.

  He mumbled into her ear, “I need this off.” He tugged at the tiny pearled button on the front of her cream silk blouse.

  “Please don’t pop the buttons off. I like this blouse.” She peeked at him over her shoulder, hoping the plea in her eyes would convince him to be sane and rational. She hated sewing the buttons on, but hated going to the tailor with it more. The looks he gave her…well, let’s just say she didn’t do it again after her first and only visit to have buttons sewn back on.

  The blouse quickly undone ended up tossed on top of her skirt, also on the floor. “Arms up.” Grasping the hem of her camisole, he slid it over her head, the whisper thin material gliding over her arms. He cupped her breast still inside the demi bra, pulling it to rest on the silky material now bunched underneath, then doing the same to its twin.

  He rounded her body to get a clearer view, his tongue unconsciously licking his lips. “God, that’s fucking beautiful. It’s like they’re on a display shelf.” He pulled the zipper down on his pants, extricating his long, hard cock.

  She loved when he kept his clothes on, fucking her naked. There was something so carnal about it. The man not taking time to disrobe, fucking her senseless, ready to carry on with his day with the flick of his cock and a pulling on his zipper while his girl and fuck toy lies sated and dripping, naked with her clothes strewn wildly about, left in wild abandon—defenseless and vulnerable.

  Yes, that was exactly why she loved the contrast of naked and fully clothed.

  His cock waved in front of him, jerking with arousal while flicking and licking her pebbled nipples.

  Her sex clenched, her hips thrust, and she wobbled on her high heel.

  Emerson braced her hip with one hand, grabbing the underside of her thigh perched above the table. “Steady, girl.” Once assured of her balance, he let go of her thigh, still bracing her at the hip for protection no doubt. But his other hand groped her pussy, his finger delving into her dripping, needy pussy. She closed her eyes, moaning as her clit throbbed and pulsed. After her wild excursion home, it wouldn’t take long for her to ascend the higher heights required for her release.

  Her pussy creamed, the juices slick on his finger, the sounds filling the air with every thrust. She moaned with every finger added as he spread her wide, preparing her for his girth. “Oh God.”

  He pivoted around her, his hot, hard-as-steel rod bumping her bottomhole, gliding through the lips of her sex, making quick work of the short trip between her clit and anus. He cupped her upheld leg, steadying her, while his other arm toyed with her clit.

  She rested her head back on his shoulder—only briefly—her arousal making her feel wild. Panting, she gripped his forearm, digging her nails into the hairy muscled area, his fingers skating along the slippery surface of her sex, dipping into her channel to gather more honey before inserting the tip of his finger into her little pucker.

  “Oh Christ! Emerson, I’m not…Oh God!”

  His cock entered her sex, pounding into her with one harsh thrust, the head of his cock bouncing on her flesh. He braced her, holding her tightly to him, steadying her completely.

  He battered her, ramming into her. The slapping of their flesh and her mewls of pleasure filled the small kitchen. His breath fell heavy and hot onto her neck.

  Her breasts jostled, her nipples aching with the movement, her need beyond anything she’d felt recently. “Oh shit….oh God…Emerson…”

  He thrust into her, bouncing off the mouth of her womb, spurting his hot seed into her with every crushing blow accompanied by loud growls and groans.

  The seed coated her insides and had her shouting with her own release, her hot cunt squeezing him so tightly that she immediately tumbled into a second orgasm, screaming with the final one, her hips jerking and thrusting with such violence that his now softening cock slipped out, brushing along her sensitive areas and almost catapulting her into a third until it bumped into her super sensitive clit, making her gasp, jerking away in that wonderful feeling of pain and pleasure, halting her third release instantly, but she continued to gasp loudly, her sheath spasming with the aftershocks and tremors.

  “Oh God! Oh God!” She panted loudly, slowly becoming aware of his light kisses on her neck and ear. “I…I might not be okay…I might…not.”

  He chuckled into her neck, the scraping of chair legs on the tiles occurred right before he sat down, pulling her to sit on his lap.

  Her legs were tired, almost cramping but not quite. Her thigh high stocking had slid during their escapade—not that she could see it with her eyes closed still in a catatonic state, but she felt it in the uncomfortable position just above the knee of her left leg.

  “Looks like my girl needed that.”

  “Mmmm hmm.” She lay sprawled out on his lap, her head resting on his left shoulder, her legs dangling over his own legs, her pussy spread, and still dripping.

  He lazily played with her now soft, plump breasts, flicking a nipple or pinching it, randomly dipping his fingers to her pussy to play between her labia.

  She became aware of his cock twitching under her hip. Peeping an eye open at him, pulling her head to the side to see him, she smiled. “Are you serious? You’re ready to go again?”

  Pressing the heel of his hand on her mound and grinding it slowly, awakening her clit, she squirmed under his ministrations.

  He murmured, “I’m not quite ready yet, but I will be soon at this rate. I’m thinking maybe we go to the bedroom and later we’ll just order some food to be delivered for dinner in bed.”

  “And this, good sir, is why I love you.” She rose from his lap, turning to look at her gloriously displayed priest.

  He sat with his collar still on, his black dress shirt rumpled, as were his black dress pants, which now had glaring spots drying white from her pussy, and his proud cock waving gently from its upright position, definitely ready for more action.

  “Let’s go. You’re insatiable.” She grabbed his hand, helping him up from the chair.

  “It’s why you love me. Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.”

  Chapter 14

  It was the one thing Emerson hadn’t grown used to yet. The refrigerators were so small in Amsterdam that you had to go to the store daily to pick up the food required for the next twenty-four hours—or so it seemed. He spent more time on his bicycle riding to Albert Heijn’s than anywhere else it seemed.

  As he trudged up the stairs after having pulled his bags from the basket on the front of his bike, his phone began playing “Lost Without You” by Robin Thicke. Before putting the key in the lock, he pulled it out of his pocket. “Hello?”

  “Em, are you okay?”

  “We really have to stop meeting like this, Father McKenna.” Emerson laughed, unlocking the door and setting his bags on the counter. “I was literally walking through my door with groceries again.”

  “My timing is impeccable as always then.”

  Groaning, Emerson mumbled pleasantly, “Yeah, something like that. What’s going on?”

  “I thought you’d be interested in knowing that Cardinal Rossi from Rome called me asking questions about you this past week.”

  Leaning his hip against the counter, he took the cover off a beer. “Say that again.”

  “You heard me. Cardinal Rossi from Rome was checking on you, wanted to know your character. What kind of person you are, why you left the priesthood, if I have contact with you since you moved to Amsterdam. Questions like that.”

  He whistled low and long. “No shit.”

  “That’s what I thought too, but I didn’t say it out loud.”

  “So they’re giving it some serious thought if they’re contacting you. Did you say good things about me?”

  Bill laughed. “Well, I told them that you’d done some pretty amazing things, but that I thought a couple may have been card tricks.”

  It was a reference to SNL’s Father Guido Sarducci, and Bill knew that it never failed to make him laugh.

  “Hey, not just one, but two. Two card tricks.”

  “Good man! I told him that St. Theodore’s wouldn’t even have their doors open today if it hadn’t been for you, that your devotion and love for the people of this community kept it not only open, but renovations in the approval process. And I also told him, even though he didn’t ask, that I was one hundred percent positive that you’d kept your celibacy while in the priesthood.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, Bill, but I sure do appreciate it.” Emerson fiddled with a coin on the table, spinning it up on its edge. “It’s just a matter of time before he calls me. I really need to set aside some time to pray.”

  “And fast. You always hated fasting, my boy. The process of eliminating all food from your diet while praying turns your focus inward and toward God. But you know all of this; you just like food.”

  Emerson groaned aloud. “I hate going without food. Fasting is so difficult for me, but in this case, I may have to—I’ll need the focus and spiritual renewal.”

  “Call me when you hear from Cardinal Rossi.”

  Emerson stood from his chair, walking to the counter to put the rest of the groceries away before leaving to pick up Chelsea. “I will, and as soon as Kearney approves the school renovations, let me know. I may schedule a trip to Philly for that.”

  “The people would love to see you again, Emerson. I’ll definitely push for that. Talk to you soon. Bye.”