Mike & Millie // Peach: Chapter 6

While Pete ravaged Millie with two middle fingers, he also began pressing the belly of his naked erection against Millie’s butt cheek. Millie felt it and loved it. She pushed herself back against it. She begged for it. She rationalized and she pleaded with Mike, but Mike stayed firm.

He said, “You can’t have it, Millie.”

And she said, “But I want it.”

And he said, “We need condoms.”

And Millie said, “Mike, I need it. I need it so, so bad, baby.”

And when he denied her again, she mewled and complained.

Mike said to Pete, “Faster.” As Pete fingered Millie faster, Mike said, “Harder.”

At least this got Millie distracted for a minute. She flattened her chest on the trunk lid, her chin and cheek very near where Pete had sent his load. Her pussy squelched and gushed as Mike fingered her. She shook and quivered and bucked, like going over orgasmic speed bumps at a high rate of speed. But Mike saw Pete’s frustration grow. His cheeks had reddened again and his suntanned skin shone with sweat. And that fat thing of his still poked Millie in the butt cheek hard as it was a few minutes ago.

Then Pete buckled, like his sex drive had become entwined with Millie’s, which was always a great problem. Mike knew the feeling. Millie’s sex drive was a massive dynamo, and once you got it going, it was hard to get it to stop until she was satiated. But seeing her in such distress and need spiraled your own sex drive up to where you hadn’t anticipated. It could overpower you.

Pete had slowed, gritting his teeth and lurching forward like he was fighting the urge to fuck Millie. And boy, if he wanted to start doing it, what could Mike really do to stop it? This guy was an officer of the law, a bonafide state trooper, and Mike couldn’t do a thing to prevent it from happening.

Pete humped his cock against Millie’s butt cheek, and in the diminished sexual thrusting, Millie responded by shoving her butt back, grinding Pete’s cock up into Pete’s belly. She told him to put it inside her. “Fuck me with it.”

Mike said to Pete, “You gotta get her off, man.”

And Pete hissed, “I’m trying,” through those gritted teeth.

Millie slipped her arms behind her back, crisscrossing her wrists above her tailbone. “Cuff me,” she said. “Handcuff me and fuck me with that thick cock.”

Pete growled, zipped his fingers up and down Millie’s opening, swirling them around her clitoris and getting Millie shaking again. She demanded once more to be cuffed.

“I can’t,” Pete grunted. “It’s against protocol.”

Millie shouted to the sky, “What do I have to do to get cuffed?”

Pete grabbed Millie’s hips and pulled her to his with sudden force.

Mike drew a sharp intake of breath, thinking Pete had shoved his beefy member inside Millie—but he hadn’t. He’d only humped the belly up her wet pink stripe. The fat cock-head pointed up above her ass.

Millie began to twerk, jerking her ass up and down, humping her pussy on the belly of Pete’s cock. She begged him again to cuff her. “I’m so bad,” she said. “Can’t you see how bad I am?”

Mike grabbed his own erection and squeezed it, feeling like the whole scene was getting out of hand and his heart was going to burst right out of his chest. He’d never been more sexually aroused.

Millie had turned both of them, Mike and this stranger cop, into sex devils. Wound up their greasy motors so their revs were in the red zone.

He leaned against the Barracuda’s tail, watching as Pete humped his cock against Millie’s pussy and Millie begged him again and again to put it in her. Her arms still crossed over at her back, wanting this man to handcuff her and pound the shit out of her pussy with his thick member.

The Barracuda was rocking again, and this time when Pete came, the volume was less than half of the first time, just a few spurts that splattered on Millie’s wrists and on the top of her ass cheeks. Millie felt it and loved it, cooing and writhing, mashing her pussy into Pete’s extra-large balls, while Pete screwed the  belly of his cock as hard as he could into that slick space between Millie’s thighs.

But now, as Pete slowed, Millie grew more frustrated, not getting what she needed, uncrossing her wrists and bracing her weight against the Hemi, pushing herself back into Pete’s hips, saying, “Please, please do it. I need it.”

Pete staggered back, his pants around his ankles, his holster sagging on his hip, cock wagging side to side and flinging strings of semen to the sun-baked gravel.

Mike stepped in again and took Millie from behind the way she’d wanted Pete to do it, getting his off-the-rack rod inside her wet pussy and pounding and pounding into her while Pete watched dumbly.

#

It would have to do.

Millie wasn’t sated, but she was subdued. She’d made both of them come twice, and it still wasn’t enough for her sex drive. But the begging had ceased, and the pleading had stopped.

While she was still bent on the trunk, Mike stooped and grabbed her shorts that had fallen to her ankles, drew them up her long legs, and shimmied them into place. He reached around her front and snapped the button closed and drew up the zipper.

Millie pressed her butt back into him, and Mike said in her ear, “That’s all I got, baby.” He was exhausted. Millie reached back and patted his cheek. Mike flinched, fearing Pete’s semen was on her hands, and Millie laughed.

She turned around and put her elbows on the trunk lid and regarded him with her steeliest gaze, sultry and hot, but still flinty, defiant and bratty. She said, “I guess it’ll have to do.”

Pete still leaned on the side of the Hemi, watching Millie, watching this sex-crazed supermodel with some kind of awe. Yes, Millie was a rare breed.

And she was all Mike’s. He had the ring on her finger to prove it.

Mike said, “It’ll have to do till we get to Florida,” stepped closer to her and grabbed between her legs over her denim short-shorts.

Millie’s eyes rolled back and her knees went soft for a second. She sagged against his touch, and with his hand on her crotch, he lifted her back to stand. She folded against him, and he rubbed two fingers where her clitoris should be. “I think you should get in the car,” he said.

Millie climbed her way back up his body to look in his eyes. She said aside to Pete, “How long is your break?”

Pete was pulling up his pants now, trying to get his half-hard hog into his underwear and his trooper pants zipped up. He said, “I’m probably already fired.”

Millie was concerned and she looked at him with sympathy. “What do you mean?”

Pete stood up straighter. “I’m kidding, but I turned my radio off. I shouldn’t have done that.” He switched the radio dial over and listened to some chatter for a second, then shrugged. “I really have to get back to work,” he said.

Millie looked down at the fat hump of his sideways dick pressing out the front of his pants, slunk against him and ran her hand along its columnar shape. “Maybe we’ll see you later,” she said, biting her lower lip, rubbing one knee against the other, totally trying to convince Pete to whip it out again so she could try and trick him into putting it inside her.

Mike put a hand between them. “That’s enough, Millie, Pete—we don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Pete stepped away from Millie, adjusting the front of his pants. There was a magnetic pull between them, driven by strong sexual forces. Millie had that effect.

Pete drew a deep breath and let it out. He said, “If you’re coming back through here, you don’t have to go topless to get my attention.” He put two fingers in his pocket and produced a business card. He said, “Text me. Don’t write anything dirty, just tell me you’re coming through.”

Millie took the card and read it, almost purring. She said, “We’ll text you for sure.”

Pete said, “And I’ll have condoms.”

Millie bit her lower lip again, and Mike had to put his arm around her waist to stop her from slinking over to Pete and trying to seduce him once more.

“Next time, Millie,” Mike said. “Next time.”

They all stared at each other for a weird and awkward moment, Millie smiling, still aroused, still horny as hell. Pete looked uneasy. If Mike let go of Millie, he was sure Millie would convince Pete to hop in the backseat with her, maybe even convince him to cuff her and put her in the back of the cruiser, bend her over and give her that big thing she wanted.

“Take care, Pete,” he said.

Millie said, “Maybe we’ll see you again.”

Pete nodded, smiled at Millie, then shook his head with some comical disbelief. He turned and headed back to his cruiser.

Mike went to the back of the Barracuda and popped the trunk. He fished through their suitcases and found a clean towel, rolled like a sleeping bag. He shook it out and guided Millie to turn around. She still was standing topless with just her shorts and canvas sneakers on. He wiped the semen off the small of her back, then took her wrists behind her and cleaned them as well. Millie was compliant, but still zipping with sexual energy, bouncing on her toes. He thought about getting one of her toys out of the trunk so she could play with herself while they drove into Florida, but then thought about getting pulled over again and how embarrassing that would be, his wife with a blue dildo the size of her forearm. He tossed the towel in the trunk and closed it again, then ran his fingers where Pete’s cop belt and equipment had left black marks on the Hemi’s yellow paint. He scratched with a thumbnail, relieved that it would come off with some buffing.

They’d have to get a car wash, though, to get rid of the semen streaks and sex-greased fingerprints.

Millie darted off from the Barracuda in a hurry and Mike turned to try to grab her missed. She turned as she skipped backwards, saying, “I’m not gonna do anything, I’m not gonna do anything,” showing him her hands like he was the cop and he had her at gunpoint.

He saw behind Millie that Pete the cop hadn’t gone all the way to his cruiser. He was standing off in the bushes and it looked like he was urinating.

#

Pete had his back to her, lost in thought, under the shade of the thicket by the edge of the gravel clearing where he took his break. On kitty-cat feet, she trotted the rest of the way without Pete hearing her, his urine splashing the ground and the rocks between his legs.

She hunched low, snaked her arm to Pete’s side and grabbed his pistol.