Friday, September 10, 2010

Stolen Nooky

“I’m not going to have sex with you in the garage, Michael!”

“It’s here or nowhere until my parents leave.”

I sighed and studied my studly fiancee. It had been nearly four days since his prim and proper parents had arrived and we were newly engaged. Hell, we had only been dating for seven months so, yeah, our sex life was hot, heavy and really, really frequent. In fact, if it hadn’t just felt so darn good, I would have wondered if maybe he or I were oversexed to a medically disturbing degree.

Whatever, right?

But his parents had been underfoot every minute of the day and we were traveling with them for all their sight-seeing and it was killing me. Having Michael close to me, smelling him, even those innocent touches, were turning me into a hot, gooey mess.

I looked around. The garage was full of his motorcycles, the 1958 Chevy he was restoring, and all his weight equipment. He kept himself in terrific shape and at six four, and 280 he was unrivaled in his ability to terrify suspects into surrender, confession, whatever he wanted. Me? He didn’t terrify me, but he could make me surrender with just a naughty grin.

Right about now, with his parents having finally dozing after an especially hectic morning, it was do or die. Meaning do it with my guy, or die of frustration. But I looked askance at the crowded space.

“Michael, there’s nowhere to sit or anything, much less lie down.” I looked up at him and caught the twinkle in his blue eyes.

“I was thinking we’d try something different.” He looked to the right and I caught sight of his weight bench.

I was puzzled, for just a second, wondering what he thought we could do with the padded bench, and then I got a sizzling picture of the possibilities.

“Assume the position, lady,” Michael growled at me in a fair approximation of his tough cop voice. He gave me a little shove so I could get the picture.

Feeling foolish, but incredibly horny, I lay on my stomach on the bench, my legs dangling to the floor. It was set up high for Michael’s long legs and my feet didn’t touch the ground.

I felt the chilly air waft across my butt as Michael flipped my denim skirt over my ass.

“Naughty.” He smacked one palm flatly against my bare ass. “Rather slutty to be wandering around in front of my parents without panties.” He smacked me again and I felt the tingle swell into a more powerful throbbing.

“Michael . . .”

“That’s officer to you, Miss.”

I heard the sound of a zipper and involuntarily shifted so I could spread my legs.

“I think a cavity search is in order.”

“As long as you have the tool for it, Officer.” Michael did, indeed, have just the tool I needed. And I needed it fast and hard.

Michael was nothing if not dedicated to duty.