Friday arrives with the inevitability of a firing squad at dawn. I grip the steering wheel tighter as we crawl through downtown traffic, each red light another reprieve before execution. The restaurant's only fifteen minutes away, but time stretches like taffy, every second both too fast and too slow.
"You're so tense," Summer observes, her fingers trailing up my thigh with deliberate slowness. "Let me help you relax."
I glance over at her, struck again by how effortlessly beautiful she looks tonight. Her white sweater hugs her curves while hiding the evidence of her past beneath its soft fabric. The black leather skirt riding high on her thighs completes the picture of elegant temptation. She's dressed to kill, or maybe to mark her territory.
"Eyes on the road, baby," she purrs, her hand inching higher until her fingers brush against my zipper. "We still have at least ten minutes before we get there."
"Summer," I warn, shifting uncomfortably as her touch sends unwanted heat through my body. "We're going to be late as it is."
She leans closer, her breath warm against my ear. "Come on, Scotty," she whispers, her lips brushing my earlobe. "Let me just suck you dry before we get there." Her hand cups me through my jeans, applying just enough pressure to make my breath catch. "It'll make me more confident."
I let out a strangled laugh. "More confident? Summer, you're already planning to eat this poor woman alive."
"Poor woman?" Summer's hand freezes on my thigh, her voice dropping ten degrees. "The same woman who's been trying to fuck my husband behind my back?"
"That's not what's happening," I say for what feels like the hundredth time this week. "Jenna's just a friend from the program."
Summer's hand slides higher, her nails digging slightly into my inner thigh. "If you believe that, you're even more naive than I thought."
I pull into the restaurant parking lot, finding a spot near the back where the streetlights don't quite reach. As I shift into park and kill the engine, the car plunges into semi-darkness, the dashboard lights casting Summer's face in an eerie blue glow.
Before I can reach for my seatbelt, Summer's hand is on my cheek, turning my face toward hers. In the dim light, her eyes look almost black, pupils dilated with something that might be fear or desperation.
"Please," she whispers, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "Let me taste you before we go in there."
Her fingers move to my belt buckle, trembling slightly. "I need this, Scott. I need to feel you in my mouth, need to know I still have some claim on you." Her breath comes faster now, urgent and hot against my neck. "I'm begging you. Please let me suck your cock."
The naked vulnerability in her voice stuns me more than the request itself. This isn't the demanding Summer from this morning or the cold, calculating Summer from yesterday. This is something else entirely—a woman terrified of losing what she believes is hers.
"Jesus, Summer," I mutter, glancing toward the restaurant entrance visible across the parking lot. "We're in public."
"No one can see us back here," she insists, already working my belt loose with desperate fingers. "Please, I'll make it so good for you. I'll swallow every drop."
"Summer, no," I say firmly, grabbing her wrists to stop her frantic movements. "We need to stop messing around and get inside."
Her eyes widen, something feral and desperate replacing the seduction. She yanks against my grip.
"Please," she gasps, voice cracking. "You don't understand what this means to me!"
The sudden shift in her intensity catches me off guard. Tears spring to her eyes, real ones that streak her carefully applied makeup.
"I'm not walking in there without tasting you first," she pleads, her entire body trembling. "I need to have part of you inside me when I face her. Please, Scott, I'm begging you!"
Her desperation is unsettling, bordering on manic. She's not just asking for a sexual favor, this is something deeper, more primal.
"Summer, we're already late," I try reasoning, but she's beyond logic now.
"I'll die without it," she whispers, her voice hollow with genuine terror. "I'll actually fucking die if I have to watch that pink-haired bitch look at you without having your cum in my stomach."
I exhale slowly, watching the desperation contort her beautiful face. Something inside me gives way, not because I want this, but because I can't bear the raw panic in her eyes. My resistance crumbles like sand castles against the tide.
When I release her wrists, Summer moves with frantic urgency, fumbling with my zipper and pushing my underwear aside. Her breath comes in shallow pants as she bends over the center console, her blonde hair falling around her face like a curtain.
"Thank you," she whispers, voice breaking with genuine relief before taking me into her mouth with such reverence it's almost religious.
The hot, wet slide of her lips sends electricity up my spine despite my conflicted feelings. I let my head fall back against the headrest, surrendering to the sensation while keeping one eye on the parking lot. The windows are beginning to fog, creating a blurred barrier between us and the outside world.
Summer works me like a virtuoso, her mouth a symphony of sensation as she devours me with hungry precision. Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes me deeper, humming with pleasure like she's tasting something exquisite rather than performing an act of desperate possession. The vibrations travel up my shaft, making my toes curl against the car floor.
"God, you taste so fucking good," she moans, pulling back just enough to speak before engulfing me again. "Better than anything..."
Her words dissolve into appreciative groans as she works me with renewed fervor. The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth fill the car, punctuated by her muffled words of adoration. It's filthy and reverent all at once, the way she worships me with each bob of her head.
"You're perfect," she gasps, coming up for air, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to my cock. "So fucking perfect."
Then she's back down, taking me impossibly deep, her throat constricting around me as tears spring to her eyes. Not from discomfort, but from something that looks disturbingly like religious ecstasy.
My hands find their way to her hair, not guiding but simply holding on as the pressure builds. Despite the circumstances, I'm already embarrassingly close. The combination of her skill and the twisted wrongness of doing this in a parking lot before meeting Jenna pushes me toward the edge faster than I'd like to admit.
"Summer..." I gasp, feeling the inevitable rush building at the base of my spine. "I'm going to…"
"Yes," she moans against me, her eyes locking with mine in the dimness. "Give it to me, Scott. I need it. I need you."
Her words push me over the edge, and I explode with a strangled groan, my hips bucking involuntarily as wave after wave of pleasure tears through me. Summer doesn't pull away, she takes me deeper, her throat working eagerly as she swallows every drop, making soft, desperate sounds of satisfaction.
"I love you so much, Scott," she murmurs between gulps, her voice thick with emotion. "God, I fucking need you. Only you."
As the last pulses fade, she continues lavishing attention on me, licking and kissing like she's savoring the most exquisite dessert. Then she starts laughing, a sound that starts as a giggle but quickly transforms into something wilder, more unhinged. Her body shakes with it as she finally pulls away, mascara streaking down her cheeks from her earlier tears.
The laughter doesn't stop as she tucks me back into my pants and zips me up with trembling fingers. Her eyes are fever-bright in the dim car, her smile stretched too wide across her face. There's something profoundly disturbing about her expression, a glimpse behind the mask that makes my skin crawl even as my body still hums with release.
I can't look away from her. This gorgeous, broken creature who was once the center of my world, now transformed into something I barely recognize. But even with all that, I can't help but notice…
Her laugh finally subsides as she spots my stare.
"What?" she asks, running a finger across her bottom lip. "Do I have cum on my lip?" She captures whatever she finds there, bringing it to her mouth with deliberate slowness, sucking her finger clean while maintaining eye contact.
"You're just really beautiful," I say, the words coming from somewhere honest despite everything else.
Her smile widens impossibly further, something almost inhuman in its intensity.
"Oh yeah," she whispers, reaching for her purse and reapplying her lipstick. "Now I'm ready."