**Unexpected Ride**

I’d known Alex for a while—just a friend of a friend, the kind of guy you laugh with over beers but never really think about *like that*. Until tonight. We were at some dingy dive bar, the kind with sticky floors and cheap whiskey, and somehow, between the shots and the stupid jokes, we ended up pressed against each other in a dark corner of the parking lot.

He was lean—*skinny*, really—but the way he moved had this lazy confidence that made my stomach tighten. And those damn *boots* of his—huge, scuffed-up things that made him tower over me even more, clicking against the pavement as he crowded me against his truck. His hands were rough when they slid under my shirt, calluses scraping over my ribs. “Fuck, Ema,” he muttered, his breath hot against my neck. “You’re killing me.”

I wasn’t wearing anything under my skirt. No panties, just bare skin and my stupid, stubborn bush—thick and messy, the way I liked it. I’d caught him staring earlier when my skirt rode up on the barstool, and now, as his fingers slid between my thighs, he groaned. “Jesus, you’re *hairy*.”

“Got a problem with that?” I gasped as his thumb circled my clit, rough and impatient.

He laughed, low and dirty. “Fuck no.”

Then he was kissing me, all teeth and whiskey, his free hand tugging at his belt. I reached down, fumbling with his jeans, and his cock sprang free—hard and already leaking, the head slick under my fingers. “You’re gonna ride me,” he growled, lifting me like I weighed nothing. My back hit the side of his truck, my skirt shoved up around my hips as he lined himself up.

The first push was *slow*—just the thick head of him nudging against my pussy, spreading me open. I could feel every inch, the way my hair caught against his skin, the wetness already soaking us both. “Fuck, *fuck*,” I choked out, my nails digging into his shoulders. He didn’t stop, just kept pushing deeper, my body stretching to take him. “So *tight*,” he hissed, his hips finally flush against me.

He didn’t give me time to adjust. One hand gripped my ass, the other tangled in my hair as he started moving—short, brutal thrusts that had me gasping. “Feel that?” he murmured, his mouth hot on my ear. “Feel how deep I am?”

I did. God, I *did*. Every drag of his cock sent sparks up my spine, my pussy clenching around him, greedy. My clit throbbed, neglected, and I reached down to rub it, my fingers slipping in my own wetness. Alex caught my wrist, pinning it against the truck. “Nah,” he rasped. “You don’t touch yourself ‘til I say so.”

Then his free hand was between my legs, his thumb pressing hard circles on my clit as he fucked me, the pace relentless. I was shaking, my thighs trembling around him, the sound of skin slapping skin loud in the empty lot. “Gonna come,” I whimpered, my head tipping back.

“Yeah?” His grip tightened. “Do it. Come all over my cock.”

The orgasm hit like a punch—my whole body locking up, my pussy pulsing around him. He swore, his thrusts turning sloppy, and then he was coming too, his cock jerking inside me, his hips stuttering. He didn’t pull out, just held me there, both of us panting, his forehead pressed to mine.

Finally, he let me down, my legs wobbly. I could feel him dripping out of me, my skirt already ruined. Alex smirked, tucking himself back in. “Next time,” he said, his voice rough, “we do this in a bed.”

I grinned. “Better be a big one.”