Backseat Pounding Storm

Wednesday, September 18, 2024, 10:47 PM – the wind howled through the empty streets, and a cold, misty rain soaked everything in sight. I stumbled out of the downtown bar where I’d been waiting tables, exhausted and cursing the double shift.

My sneakers were soaked through, and my black leggings clung to my legs like a second skin. My jacket hood did little to keep the water out of my eyes. I ducked under the awning of a closed bodega and fumbled with my phone to open the rideshare app.

“Marcus will be your driver tonight.”

Fine. I just needed to get home, kick off these wet clothes, and crawl under a blanket.

A beat-up blue Honda Civic rolled up after a few minutes. I slid into the passenger seat, shaking off the chill, and felt his eyes on me before I even shut the door.

He didn’t hide it — gave me a slow, deliberate once-over. Hazel eyes, a scruffy beard with streaks of gray, maybe pushing fifty. He had on a faded leather jacket, a dark red Henley shirt, and boots that looked like they’d seen better days.

“You work late like this a lot?” he asked, his voice gravelly, hinting at something beneath the surface.

“When I have to,” I shot back, keeping it short.

The first stretch of the ride was quiet, just the hum of the engine and the slap of wipers against the windshield. But I caught him glancing my way every time we hit a red light.

Then, out of the blue, his hand slid off the gearshift and rested on my knee. I froze, my pulse kicking up, but I didn’t move it. I stared straight ahead, watching the rain blur the streetlights.

He cranked the heat up and said, low and rough, “You’ve got a hell of a figure, you know that?”

I swallowed hard, shifted in my seat just enough to nudge my legs apart, testing the air.

“Want me to find a spot?” he murmured, his fingers tracing slow circles now.

I grabbed his wrist and guided his hand higher, pressing it where I wanted it. My voice came out steady but edged. “Keep driving… there’s a parking lot behind the old warehouse, two streets down. Go there.”

He nodded, silent, and turned the wheel with one hand.

When he pulled into the deserted lot, the fogged-up windows turned the world outside into a smear of gray. The rain tapped a steady rhythm on the roof.

I climbed over the console into the backseat, heart pounding. He didn’t hesitate — killed the engine, got out, and yanked open the back door to join me.

I sprawled across the seat, legs wide. He loomed over me, his mouth crashing against my collarbone, rough and urgent, teeth grazing skin.

He tugged my leggings down in one messy pull — they bunched at my knees, but he didn’t bother fixing it. His fingers hooked my underwear aside, and he dove in, his breath hot against me.

“Goddamn, you’re soaked… this what you like, huh?” he growled.

“Yeah…” I rasped, fisting his jacket. “Don’t you dare stop.”

His tongue was relentless, and his fingers curled inside me, hitting every nerve. I arched against the cracked leather seat, nails digging into whatever I could grab.

When he pulled up, his beard glistened, and his eyes were wild. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, shoving his jeans down just enough. He didn’t wait — pushed into me hard, filling me in one brutal thrust.

“Shit!” I gasped, half-laughing. “You asshole…”

“You love it… taking it like this,” he said, voice thick as he rocked into me, the whole car swaying.

The rain muffled everything outside, a constant drone. My legs hooked over his shoulders as he gripped my hips, driving deeper, no letup.

Then, through the haze of the back window, I saw it — a hunched figure in a neon green poncho, shuffling past with a dog on a leash. Marcus clocked it too.

“Keep going…” I muttered, breathless. “But ease up… make it last…” I raked my hands down his arms as he slowed, each move deliberate, dragging it out.

“You get off on this, don’t you? The risk…” he taunted, smirking.

“Less talking, more fucking,” I fired back.

He slid a hand between us, working me over while he kept that slow, punishing rhythm. I trembled, caught in it.

The figure vanished into the night, and Marcus ramped it up again. The seat creaked under us, my voice breaking over the sound of the storm.

“Gonna leave you a mess…” he panted. “You ready for it?”

“Do it…” I moaned. “Come on, give it to me.”

He pulled out at the last second, cum across my stomach, warm and slick, streaking down my skin.

We stayed there, chests heaving, the air thick with steam and the rain still pounding outside.

“Okay…” I said finally, wiping a hand across my brow as I tugged my leggings back up. “Get me home now.”

He chuckled, zipped up, and climbed back into the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life once more.

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