studiocoattails
patreon
Highway Blossoms - Honk for Waffle House
🕑 Added 2019-03-31 16:02:19 +0000 UTC
I pull away. The taste of Marina's breath sticks to my lips. Warm and syrupy. It might seem nasty at first, but after being with someone for a bit these things become familiar. Just as much a part of them as their natural scent or the feel of their skin.
"Mmm. Pancakes. My favorite." I look up at her and smile as she straddles me.
"Oh hush." She gives my shoulder a light slap and leans in. "They're sweet. Just like me."
"Uh-oh. Do I need to visit a dentist?"
"Will you stop making lame dad jokes if I kiss you again?"
"Neve--"
She plants another one on me before I can finish. Long and deep. Her tongue swirls around mine, toying with it. The taste of pancakes and syrup melts away into the dripping heat of her saliva. My heart skips a beat, maybe even two. The longer she holds it, the quicker my breath gets, until finally I'm panting.
She bites down on my bottom lip, digging in with her teeth.
"GAH!" I touch my numb lip in case there's any blood. It's just spit, so I wipe it on my boob. "Geez, Marina..."
Marina springs back, the lust zapped from her. Her eyes gleam with concern, clashing with the pink blush on her cheeks "Oh my God, are you okay? I didn't mean for it to hurt! Guess I'm just no good at this stuff yet..."
"Goofball." Now it's my turn to give her a playful slap. This time on her forehead. She squeaks like a chew toy. "Did I say I didn't like it."
"But--"
"It's fine. Just took me by surprise. Now try again." I pause, licking my pulsing lip. On second thought, I've been trying to get better at this whole 'communicating' thing. "But be softer this time, got it?"
"Softer." She gives a quick nod, and I'm not sure if she's affirming it to me or herself. "I can do that."
Caressing my cheek, she leans in one more time. This time, it's less of a bite and more of a nibble. See Amber, she can learn. You just have to be patient and trust her to get it.
The kissing becomes slower, more distracted. She starts to wiggle her legs like she's shaking something off. When I open my eyes, her eyes are shadowed by intense concentration. I look to the floorboard just in time to see her panties slide down one leg. Then her skirt halfway down another. I tap her shoulder like a submitting wrestler, my protests muffled by the kiss.
"Something wrong?" Her head cocks to the side.
"Uhhh, pretty ballsy, don't you think?" I point past her, out the windshield. The inside of the diner we just at it isn't exactly bustling with life, but I can see the short order cook and the guy reading his paper at the booth. And if they turn their heads just a little, I'm guessing they could see us too. "Wanna take this to the back?"
"It's fiiiiiine," she says in that airy voice that I've come to known as the precursor to disaster. She must sense it too, because she glances back at the diner real quick. "I think it's fine, anyway."
"Uh-huh."
"Don't be such a prune, silly."
"Prude."
"Yeah, that too."
"I dunno if not wanting the guy who just served me my hash brown bowl to know what my next meal is going to be makes me a killjoy, Mare."
"You're just a worrywart. No one will notice a thing unless we give them a reason to. Promise!"
A promise isn't enough to ease any concerns I have, but the bubble bath of optimism she's showering me in might be. We've both grown a lot in the last couple months, but she's still the same old Marina, taking on a world that's probably too big for her. And of course I'm still the same dumbass Amber, getting suckered in by it. Her appetite for adventure (among other things) just keeps on getting bigger. Soon enough, I'm going to have trouble keeping up. Maybe that's why I can never say 'no' to her. So I don't get left behind.
Besides, these windows are tinted. Sort of. The only weird part about this is that me and Gramps used to eat at these diners all the time. They're scattered alongside every highway down in the southern states, so when I saw one in Phoenix of all places I just had to turn the motorhome around. Guess I'll just have to try and not think about it too hard. Weird things happen at Waffle Houses all the time, right?
"Honestly, you're such a handful, you know that?" I sigh, but it's really only for show. "Fine, I'll go along with it. But let’s keep it down this time. Don't want someone banging on the door again because of how loud we are."
She tears my shirt off then guides my hand towards her thighs. "Uh-huh! Yup! You got it!"
"You're not even listening."
"Not at all!" Her boobs come spilling out as she lifts up her blouse. She shakes them in my face. A jiggle ripples through them and I have to pry myself away before the urge to suck them fully takes over. She leans back, glowing with confidence. "Now tell me how sexy I--"
HONK!
We both freeze.
She slowly turns around like a girl in a horror movie, right before she gets slashed to ribbons. But only when she sees her hand flat on the steering wheel does true terror actually strike her.
As for me, I just play possum. It's the only move I can make. If I'm lucky I'll blend into the chair. Or disappear into vapor. Whichever is easier.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAH!" She buries herself into my bare chest, no longer glowing with confidence but merely glowing red. "Please tell me no one's looking," she whimpers.
My eyes sweep over to the diner window. The man in the booth's eyes look like they're about to bulge out of his head. The waitress pouring him coffee keeps pouring... and pouring... and pouring. Only when they notice me looking do they start scrambling to sop everything up with the newspaper.
"It's, uhhh... probably best if we leave." I stroke the back of her head, letting my fingers slide through her hair, damp with sweat. "Just try not to make eye contact while getting dressed."
