Page 54 of Phantom

I almost got Ronaldo and I killed, and the only thing I can do is giggle about it like a schoolgirl.

On the drive to Oregon, he insisted on playing with me, and something about being so alone with him in the car yet knowing that at any moment someone could look over and see the ecstasy on my face ... It did something to me. It made me feral, if I’m being honest.

He made me orgasm, but it did nothing to abate the burning need in my lungs. So I leaned over, unfastened his trousers, and took him down my throat.

The car swerved and curses fell out of his mouth, yet there wasn’t a single second I thought to stop. To even fear for my life. I was ravenous, and I swallowed him down like he was my only source of oxygen.

And when he erupted, I drank from him like I had gone weeks without a drop of water. He took one look at my face afterward, swerved the car across two lanes to take the nearest exit, and found a rest stop.

I have never even considered having sex in a public building before, but at that moment, there was no question in my mind. I was drowning in lust. So we found a restroom, and he fucked me against the wall, his hand over my mouth to keep me silent.

I shouldn’t have come as hard as I did, and I should be ashamed.

But I did, and I’m not.