Page 87 of Missed Steps

“Can you squeeze yourself?” I ask.

“Jesus Christ, Kyle. Are you trying to make me crash?” Mark curses. He flicks on the indicator and soon we’re off the main road, pulling into an industrial park. Mark drives until we’re all the way in the back of an abandoned parking lot, where there’s not a single soul in sight. Mark shuts off the engine and looks at me. “Like this?” Mark cups his bulge and squeezes.

I bite my lip. “I could…probably get on my knees in the back? Do you think you could fit behind me?”

Mark’s eyes are black.

“Go on,” he nods.

I get out of the car and enter the back, sliding onto my knees, and leaning over the shelf on the back of the car. There’s no headrest in the middle seat so I am flush to the seat, my top half flat on the shelf.

“Comfortable?” Mark sits in the seat next to me and pulls the door shut.

“Yeah.”

“Knee isn’t sore at all?” Mark asks as he undoes my belt and tugs down my trousers and underwear together so they bunch around my knees. He kisses my hip as he caresses the skin he just exposed.

“No,” I bite down a groan. Mark, without preamble, slides a finger into me. “Stop,I’ll come, don’t just, ugh.” I dig my forehead into the coarse fabric of the car.

“Hold it for a minute,” Mark tells me. I hope he knows how completely impossible that is.

“You know,” I groan, “Before the accident, I never came this fast.”

Mark chuckles as he rolls a condom over my length. “Liar. I bet I could have pinned you against any wall, rubbed my cock against your ass, and have you cream your boxers in seconds.”

I don’t object; Mark is undoubtedly right.

“All good?” Mark climbs up behind me, knees on either side of mine. His cock presses against my ass as his torso pins me onto the back shelf covering the boot. Cool lube comes from seemingly nowhere; it squirts onto my hole and smells vaguely of mango. Mark works it inside of me with a hum.

“Wait,” I groan.

Mark kisses the back of my neck. “What is it?” He nudges his lubed up cockhead at my entrance, teasing me open with a little pressure.

“I feel like I’m being mounted,” I manage to voice.

Mark goes still; then his chest shakes as he chuckles. “Kyle,” he says, clearly amused. “Youarebeing mounted.”

I open my mouth to object, but Mark thrusts forwards and his cock sinks into me all at once. I can only groan, overstimulated. One of Mark’s hands latch onto my hip as he begins to thrust, immediately setting a fast, rushed pace and I writhe, instinctively pulling away as he pierces me deeply. Except my hips immediately collide with car seats, and Mark follows, and there is clearly less give in leather car seats than mattresses because each thrust pierces me so deep it’s knocking the breath right out of me.

I blindly bat at Mark’s hips. “Your cock is hitting my lungs,” I whine.

Mark’s thrusts falter as he laughs.

I complain, but Mark quickly puts a stop to that by recovering, and I have to focus on breathing. There’s no time for talking.

It doesn’t take long; I’m gone, the world lost to me in a wall of white noise. It’s only when Mark sinks into me with a loud moan and stays buried do I return to the present. He’s pulsing inside of me, and I shuffle until I can turn my head. Mark knows what I’m trying to do and manoeuvres so he can kiss me.

“You fucked me,” I whisper against his mouth.

Mark hums, kisses me deeply, and then moves so that he’s mouthing the back of my neck. “Couldn’t help myself.” He sounds half-dazed. “You sore?”

I’m about to say no, but I pause. “My ass is a bit sore,” I admit.

“Because I fucked you?”

“Mark.”

“Maybe your lungs are a bit tingly?” he teases.