This week we decided to give Wanton Wednesday and Wank Wednesday a try.  I hope I did it right.  Here goes:

They pulled into the garage, the stylish import cruising past station wagons and minivans until they reached their parking space.  He made a wide turn, then slowly backed the car in.  He always backed into the parking space, and she suspected that he did so as much to show off as he did for the convenience of being able to pull straight out the next time they drove somewhere.

The smell of sex lingered.  During dinner she’d gone to the restroom and removed her panties, and when she returned to the table she pressed them into his hand for the purpose of seeing his eyes go wide, of knowing that, beneath the silken tablecloth he was sporting a tremendous erection she couldn’t wait to feel inside her.  Just the thought made her damp and fragrant, and she knew how much her aroma aroused him.

“Are you going to fuck me when we get home?” she’d asked as they left the restaurant.  Sexy beneath the cheap pair of glasses she wore, her eyes locked with his.

“I might not wait until then,” he had replied.  His words turned her on, her wetness sticking to her legs.

Now, he shut off the engine and with a flick turned off the headlights.  They sat there for a moment, the desire hanging in the air, almost tangible.  She expected him to lean over, to kiss her voraciously, to grope her breasts and caress her thighs.  Instead, he seemed to be staring off into space.  She looked where he was looking, squinting through her eyeglasses.  At first she thought he was looking at the random cars on the opposite side of the parking garage, but more likely he was just lost in thought.

“What is it?” she asked.  He snapped out of it immediately.

“Nothing,” he said with the self-consciousness of a teenager who has been caught imitating his favorite rock star in the bathroom mirror.  “Let’s get out.”

It was only a thirty-second elevator ride up to their apartment, where they could give in to passion in the comfort of their own bedroom, atop warm bedsheets.  Thirty seconds.  Neither could wait that long.

He opened the car door and stepped out.  She followed, her high heels clicking on the cold concrete floor.  Gripping her purse, she headed for the elevator but his hand on her shoulder told her to halt.

He turned her around to face him, their bodies almost colliding as their lips met in a furious kiss.  As his mouth opened against hers, the heel of his hand made its way under her leather skirt and between her legs, finding wetness where they met.  He slipped two fingers inside her straight away, then a third and a fourth.  As they undulated inside her, he strummed her aroused clit with his thumb.

She cried out, her voice echoing off the walls of the garage.  At the sound, he expected her to back away demurely for fear that some elderly neighbor might see them while dumping her trash at half past midnight.  Her actual reaction, however, was much different than he expected.

“Fuck me,” she said.  “Right here.”

“Right here?” he asked, a smile forming on his lips and no trace of hesitation in his voice as he continued to caress her beneath the skirt.

“You said you were going to fuck me as soon as we got home, so fuck me.”  She unbuttoned the skirt and let it fall to their feet.  Paying it no mind, he continued to play with her.  She moaned erotically, savoring his touch.  She reached down to his belt, hurrying to unbuckle it before unsnapping his jeans.  His cock was already stiff, ready for action as it sprang into her grip.  She stroked it anyway, enjoying the familiar feet of it in her hand.  But she wanted more.

“Fuck me,” she repeated.  There was no plea in her words, but rather a sense of urgent insistence.

He wanted to continue to finger her, to give her the immediate release that he knew she needed.  The thought of finding her G-spot right there in the garage was overwhelming.  But once the request was made – and for that matter, repeated – he had no choice.  In seconds, he had her turned around, up against the car with her palms pressing against the passenger-side window to brace her.  She arched her back wantonly, purring with desire and anticipation.  He stepped around the discarded skirt as he moved close, spreading her open with his hands as his hardness found its way inside.

She came almost immediately in a slippery gush that soaked his jeans, her moans quickly giving way to sighs of what could only be described as relief.  She threw herself forward, feeling the cool glass of the window against her flushed face.  She didn’t have long to enjoy it, though, as he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back toward him, kissing her eagerly and hungrily, the sounds of his passion filling her ears as he continued to press himself deeper and deeper inside of her.

“Yes!” she cried out once the kiss broke.  “Fuck me!”  The command reverberated through the stillness of the night, and if he wasn’t already he would have had no choice but to obey.  She continued to goad him, feeling his fingers dig into her hips, slamming her onto him with great force.  That’s how she knew he was close.

He tensed up, his hands gripping her body with a tightness she’d rarely experienced.  When he came, he emptied his seed deep inside her, his hands slowly relaxing.  He slid out of her, and pulled his jeans back up.  As he buckled his belt, she leaned in for a lusty kiss.

As she bent down to pick up her skirt, she heard a car engine start.  The driver waited until she’d put the garment back on before turning on his headlights and bathing their afterglow in illumination.  The car pulled out of its parking space, and she noticed with some amusement that the other driver had also backed in.  As the car passed them, she looked to her side and saw her husband exchanging a nod with the other driver.

Boarding the elevator at last, she knew that this night would echo in her mind forever.