Dad and son swap strokes ch 9

The driver’s shocked voice hung in the air, but Amber’s command cut through it, sharp and undeniable. “Don’t you dare stop, Matt. Fuck him. Now.”

The driver’s wide, disbelieving eyes were locked on them in the rearview mirror. Matt met that gaze, a new, raw power surging through him. The man’s shock wasn’t a deterrent; it was fuel. It was the final layer of taboo, the public witness to their private sin, and it made his blood burn hotter.

“You heard her,” Matt growled, his voice low and thick. He gripped James’s hips, his fingers digging into the firm muscle. He gave a hard, deliberate thrust, seating himself fully inside his son’s tight, clutching heat. James cried out, the sound muffled against Amber’s core where his mouth was still buried.

The SUV swerved again. “I—I can’t have this in my car!” the driver sputtered, his face pale in the mirror.

“Then don’t look,” Amber shot back, her voice breathy but firm. She grabbed a fistful of James’s hair, holding him to her as she ground against his mouth. Her eyes, dark with lust, found Matt’s. “But he’s looking, isn’t he? He’s watching you take our boy. Harder.”

Matt obeyed. He set a brutal, driving pace, each snap of his hips slamming James forward into Amber’s pussy. The vehicle’s motion added a chaotic, unpredictable rhythm, making James lurch and gasp. Matt could feel every clench, every tremor in James’s body transmitted through his own cock. The slick, tight heat was overwhelming, the lewd, wet sounds of their fucking mixing with the sounds of James eating Amber out.

“Do you always…” the driver began, his voice strained, his eyes flicking back to the road before darting to the mirror again, unable to look away. “Do you people always have… incestuous relations in the back of a car?”

The word, clinical and shocking, hung in the air. It should have broken the spell. Instead, it electrified it. Amber threw her head back and laughed, a wild, liberated sound. “Only on special occasions,” she moaned, her hips bucking. “Now shush and drive. Or watch. I don’t care.”

Matt’s world narrowed to sensation and that reflected gaze. He could see the driver’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He could see the man’s white-knuckled grip on the wheel. He could see the undeniable, horrified fascination in his eyes. That was the trigger. He’s seeing this. He’s seeing me fuck my son. He’s seeing my wife come on his face. The thought was a detonation in his mind.

“Amber,” Matt gritted out, his rhythm becoming punishing, pistoning into James with deep, grinding strokes that shook the entire seat. “Ride his face. Make him choke on you.”

With a hungry cry, Amber shifted. She planted her feet on the seat, looming over James. She lowered herself onto his mouth, not with grace, but with a demanding, dominant force, taking control of the angle. James’s hands flew to her thighs, holding on as she began to rock and grind against his face, her wetness smearing across his lips, his nose, his chin.

The driver made a strangled sound. “God almighty…”

“You like the view?” Matt taunted, his eyes locked on the mirror as he pounded into James. “You like watching a family connect?”

The driver had no answer. His silence was a louder confession than any word.

Matt could feel his climax coiling, a white-hot wire tightening at the base of his spine. The feel of James around him, the sight of Amber’s ecstasy, the voyeuristic thrill of the stranger’s eyes—it was too much. “I’m close,” he warned, his voice ragged.

“Not yet,” Amber commanded, her own movements becoming frantic. “James, baby, make me come. Now. Use that tongue.”

Beneath her, James redoubled his efforts. His muffled groans vibrated through Amber, making her cry out. Her back arched, her body going rigid as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. She rode his face through it, her thighs clamping around his head, her cries sharp and rhythmic.

The violent clenching of her body, the sounds of her pleasure, were the final straw for Matt. With a roar that echoed in the enclosed space, he slammed deep and held, his hips grinding in tight circles as he emptied himself in thick, pulsing jets deep inside James. The release was seismic, wracking his powerful frame with tremors, his vision spotting at the edges.

He slumped forward, his chest heaving against James’s back, still buried inside him. The only sounds were their ragged panting and the hum of the road.

The driver cleared his throat, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you… finished?”

Amber, still trembling, lifted herself off James’s face. She was glowing, triumphant. She leaned forward, between the seats, her cleavage on full display for the driver. “Finished?” she purred, her voice like smoked honey. “We’re just getting warmed up. James, baby, your turn. You’ve been so good. Get on your knees on the floor. I want your mouth on me while your dad takes you from behind again. Let our driver get a real good look.”