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Saturday, April 23, 2011

First Impressions by Mysti Holiday

Jen’s ride was thirty minutes late. As if flying despite her fear wasn’t enough, now she was stranded at the airport by the very guy she’d come to see. The guy who’d won her heart with his emails, his phone calls, his chats. A friend of a friend, he’d been everything she didn’t know she wanted. And now she was stuck in a strange town with no phone. Alone. She searched through her carry-on bag, wondering how the hell she’d managed to lose her cell phone on the flight when a truck pulled up next to the sidewalk.

“Need a lift?”

She stopped her search and stared up at the man in the truck. He took her breath away with his amazing good looks: raven hair, ice blue eyes, far better than she’d imagined, far better than his pictures had shared. With a flick of her wrists, she shut the case with a slap and zipped it shut. She hated flying with a passion, and having to stand outside for thirty minutes, waiting in vain, had really pissed her off.

“I’ll take a cab.” She walked away, rolling her bag behind her.

He paced her in the truck, talking to her through the passenger window. “Come on, Jen, don’t be stubborn. I’m sorry I’m late, but you’re obviously tired. Hop in.”

Jen looked at him again, all sexy smiles and inviting eyes. Damn it. She never could resist a hot guy in a truck. “Fine.”

He leaned across the bench seat and opened her door. “Toss your bag behind the seat, why don’t you?”

She did so, then settled into the seat with a sigh. Sliding a glance his way, she scowled again. “This isn’t a good first impression, you know.”

The grin full of promise that he flashed her set her heart to pounding. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

“Damn straight.” His gaze settled on her and she squirmed from its intensity until she couldn’t stand it another moment. “What?”

“I have to get this out of the way or it’s just going to eat at me.” He leaned in and slid her across the seat until they were only inches apart. “We’ve had phone sex so much, I feel like we’ve done this before. I need to touch you.” His head lowered, his lips brushed hers once, twice, never quite settling, but sending shivers of need down her spine and making her gut clench.

“Please...” she whispered, sliding a hand up his back and burrowing fingers in his hair.

Finally his lips claimed hers and she moaned, opening her mouth and taking him in. Their tongues met in a wild mating dance and her nipples hardened as she pressed against him, rubbing the sensitive nubs back and forth across his chest. He tugged her even closer, his hands traveling over her arms, her back, then sliding under the waist band of her skirt and cupping her ass. The feel of his fingers on her flesh made her pussy clench and she knew her walls were moist with desire.

He pulled away then, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands slowly slipping out of her skirt. “God. I shouldn’t have started that in the damn truck in a public place.” He caressed her back, her waist, then moved his attention to her breasts, cupping their weight and circling the hard peaks with his thumbs. “I want you, Jen.”

“Trevor.” She sighed his name and covered his hands with hers, pressing his palms against her chest, then lifting them and kissing each one before placing them on the steering wheel. “Then get us to the hotel.”

“I don’t want to wait that long.” He smiled, his eyes full of promise, and pulled the truck onto the road.

Jen scooted to the center of the bench seat, her thigh against his. She fastened the lap belt and sighed. “Me either.”

She placed her hand on his erection, rubbing it up and down, thrilling at the feel of his cock. They’d been corresponding for nearly a year now, without meeting, without touching and she’d struggled with her desperate desire for him for months. Phone sex, fingers and a vibrator just weren’t the same.

They turned onto the highway and sped toward her hotel, but she needed him now. As if reading her thoughts, he pushed up the hem of her skirt, his hand sliding up her bare thigh until her panties were exposed. Her breath caught as he pushed aside the tiny bit of cotton and touched her shaved pussy, one finger sliding between the nether lips and into the moist heat.

“God!” Her thighs fell open and she rubbed his cock harder, flicking open the top button of his jeans with nimble fingers. His middle finger dipped inside her, up to the base and pressed up while his thumb circled her clit. Overcome with sensation, her left hand stopped its ministrations on his cock and she focused on all the sensations shooting through her.

He inserted a second finger inside her, fucking her, working her and her entire body reached for the orgasm that was so close, so close. She pistoned herself against his palm, and then gave a mewling cry as she came.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, waiting for her heart to stop galloping in her chest and then smiled up at him. “Your turn.”

“Oh no ... I’m driving.”

“So?” She undid his belt, jeans button and zipper, laughing when his cock popped out into her hand. “Commando?”

He started to respond but she slid her hand up and down the hard length, and all that came out of his mouth was a moan. Feeling powerful and fully feminine, Jen leaned down and took him in her mouth. The truck slowed and wobbled on the road a moment before straightening and she took that as a challenge.

She laved the head, tongue swirling around the ridge and flicking across the vein beneath. She pumped him with her mouth, with her hand at the base, sucking and tasting loving the feel of him in her mouth, the salty flavor of the precum on the tip of his cock. Trevor shuddered and Jen felt the truck swerve again, then continue moving right. Alarmed, she lifted her head.

“Rest stop,” Trevor said, his voice hoarse.


He stopped in the first space and reached under the seat, shoving it all the way back and then dug in his back pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“This.” He proffered a condom and rolled it on his cock. “And this.” He unstrapped her seat belt and lifted her until she straddled him. With one quick move he shoved her panties aside and drove into her, stretching her cream-slicked walls.

The feel of him inside her pussy combined with the look in his eye as he watched her was like nothing she’d felt before. With their gazes locked, she opened her legs wider and took him all the way in. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and down in a rhythm that matched the pumping of his own body. She cupped his face, kissing him, her tongue mimicking the movement of his cock inside her. Up, down, in, out, the sensations raced through her until she knew nothing but him, was aware of nothing but the feel of him inside her, the taste of him in her mouth.

His powerful thrusts grew faster and his body tensed. She leaned away, wanting to come with him. She found her clit with her fingers and pressed it, circling the hard, wet nub until her body shook. “God, Trevor, you’re... I’m...” Her head fell back and she just soaked up the sensations , her pussy full of his cock, her heart full of her love.

The hands on her hips tightened and pulled her down, hard, one last time as he gave a hoarse shout and came. Only one more rub on her clit and she joined him, gyrating her hips to suck every last bit from the orgasm, squeezing his cock with her muscles and then collapsing against him.

“Holy shit,” Trevor whispered against her throat, his arms circling her and holding her close.

She laughed. “Yeah.”

They sat quietly for a moment, together and sated. Then he took her face in his hands and held her only inches from his. “I think we answered the one last question we had about our relationship.”

A smile curved her lips. “Apparently we are sexually compatible.”

“And then some.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth. “So, now that’s out of the way...”


“Jen, I love you with my whole being. Will you marry me?” He dug into his shirt pocket and pulled out a slim, modest diamond solitaire.

“Oh my God.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “Yes! God, yes. Trevor, I love you, too.” She held out her hand and he slipped the ring on her finger. “Only ...” She swiveled her hips, loving the feel of him inside her, still slighty erect, and thrilled to think she’d have him forever.

Worry filled his expression. “What?”

She grinned and batted her eyelashes. “What will we tell our kids when they ask how you proposed?”

About the author: Mysti Holiday is the pseudonym of a very busy SAHM who dreams of warm climes and hot bodies.

She's married to a wonderful man who happily sacrifices himself for research, and she spends most of her days dreaming of interesting and unusual situations in which to place her characters. But most of all, she's a sucker for a happy ending. Find out about her erotic short stories from The Wild Rose Press at or

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