As he stopped at the light in the middle of town, his hands wandered between her open legs and gently rubbed at her denied, dripping slit. It had been one of the first rules he had made for her — when they were driving, her legs were always open and her cunt was always ready for him to tease.
He pressed against her swollen clit, rubbing circles over the soaked fabric of her bikini bottom. It was hot today, and they were on their way to the beach.
She got that strange kind of nervous-excited feeling about going to the beach with him. He never missed an opportunity to expose her, make her blush, and push the limits of public decency. Her nipples hardened at the thought, and she squirmed.
His fingers continued their gentle assault, and she moaned.
“What are you thinking about, sweet thing?” he asked.
She felt the blush crawl up her cheeks. Even after so long, it was still hard to say the words out loud. “I’m thinking about you making me do slutty things for you at the beach.”
The light turned green, and he went back to driving. “Baby, you know I don’t make you do anything, do I?”
Her blush deepened. “No, Sir.” He was right, of course. She was never forced to do the dirty, degrading things she did. He twisted her thoughts — she never could think quite straight around him.
“Good girl. I let you do these things. You want to do these things, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her voice sounded more than a little breathy. He was right. He was always right.
“Of course you do. I remember you telling me that when we first met. You wanted to be denied and degraded.”
She licked her lips. “Yessss…”
“And it still makes that sweet little cunt drip, doesn’t it?”
She giggled; she couldn’t help it. “Yes, Sir.”
They stopped at another intersection for a red light. “Speaking of which –” he started, reaching over to her cunt, “It’s Saturday, so I think it’s time for you to prove to me that you want to keep being my denied little edge slut.”
She looked at him, stunned.
He laughed. “You didn’t think I was serious?”
She could only shake her head. “I want you to deny me, Sir. I don’t want to cum.”
“Mmm, I know, baby. And it’s going to be so fun to watch you prove it to me.” He turned the car into a self-service car wash joint, and pulled into the last covered stall furthest away from the road. “The car needs a bit of wash, baby. Why don’t you get out and get started?”
She blushed, took some change from the console, and opened the door. Her dress fell back over her bikini.
“Sweetheart –” he leaned over before she shut the door. “Leave the dress, if you don’t want to cum this week.”
She closed her eyes, butterflies in her stomach.
Her pussy clenched as she pulled the summer dress over her head and laid it on the passenger seat. She was honestly desperate not to cum, which seemed odd, even her her desire-addled brain. It was just… nice to be denied. She felt better, the world was brighter, happier when she was denied. She liked that constant haze of sexual need that colored every waking thought and most of her unconscious ones, as well. And the things he made her do…
No, he didn’t make her do them, did he? He merely suggested.
With consequences, if she chose not to do them. There were always consequences.
The air was cool against her bare skin in the shade of the structure. Her bikini didn’t cover much. She blushed harder, remembering the day they shopped for it. It was technically covering enough to keep her from being arrested for public nudity, but not much more than that.
She put the coins in the slot, and water started to run out of the nozzle.
He cracked the door. “Take your tits out.”
She looked at him imploringly, her cheeks scarlet.
A wolfish grin spread across his face. “Unless you want to cum?”
She shook her head.
“Good girl.” He shut the door.
They were in the last stall, so it was unlikely that someone would see. She bit her lip, imagining how long he’d be planning this. Slowly, slowly, she pulled one side of her bikini top over to expose her breast, then the other. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it might just right out of her chest.
And the delicious throbbing between her legs. There was always that. Always.
She didn’t want to lose that aching need.
Water and soap covered the car, running down in big rivulets.
She looked at him, watching her hungrily from inside the car.
She needed to show him how much she wanted to stay his denied little whore. Her breath came in short, little gasps. Her hands shook as she brought the nozzle against her tits.
The spray was strong, and it hurt her sensitive little nubs as she covered herself with the slick foam. Still, it felt good be a slut for him. She rubbed her slippery tits together, moaning.
She watched him watch her, and she smiled, biting her lip. His dark eyes looked absolutely predatory from behind the glass, and she giggled, imagining the fucking she was going to get later.
Maybe they wouldn’t even make it to the beach today.
He cracked the door again. “Lose the bottoms, whore.”
Her breath caught, and she felt dizzy. She shook her head, suddenly terrified.
His smile made her weak. “Unless you want to cum? Up to you, babe.”
The soap nozzle ran out of time, and she hung it back on the wall.
She couldn’t believe she was going to do this. She looked around; somehow she had still eluded everyone else’s attention. Eventually, she knew she’d catch someone’s eye, and then she’d really be in trouble. She licked her lips.
Better to get it done.
Don’t want to cum.
With shaking fingers, she pulled her wet swimsuit bottom off. It landed against the concrete.
She closed her eyes. She felt like a slut. A naked, needy slut. Willing to do anything to remain that way — easy, exposed, humiliated. Degraded.
She moaned, fighting the urge to rub her pussy.
No, get this done. Before you get caught!
She slipped more coins in the slot, each seeming to fall in slow motion.
Soon, water was jetting out of the nozzle, and she sprayed it over his car. Everything seemed to take hours, and she could hear the sound of traffic so very close to them.
She ached.
Once the car was clean, she looked at him. All of her blood seemed to be in her swollen pussy, making it so hard to think. She looked at her bare tits, still covered with soap. He would never let her in the car like this.
She grinned at him and turned the nozzle to herself, washing all the foam off. The strength of the water left her skin pink and raw, with a not-unpleasant tingling. With the ache in her cunt and nipples, it felt delicious.
She turned away from him to replace the sprayer on the wall, and gave her ass a good hard smack.
She hoped that she made him ache like he made her ache.
As she opened the passenger door to get back in, another car coasted past them and honked.
A wave of panic flow through her, and she slid back into her seat and slammed the door. Her breath was shallow, and she looked out the window to see if the other car was going to come back.
What would she say? How would she explain this?
He turned the ignition. “You’re dripping on my upholstery.” His voice was deep with lust.
She blinked and looked at him, then looked at the puddle gathering under her butt. Her fingers were still shaking. “I’m… I’m sorry, Sir.”
He pulled out onto the road again, that dark smile unmistakable. “You will be.”
Photo by Clément M. on Unsplash