Anita’s pov
“You need a ride to that job interview thing later?” Marcus asked from the kitchen doorway while I was still standing there with wet shorts and a head full of the pool invitation he had just whispered.
Leah was upstairs changing, her voice floating down about needing to run out again for more groceries because she forgot the wine.
I turned and looked at him. Forty-three years old, polite as hell on the surface, careful with every word, but the way his eyes kept dropping to my tank top said something else. “Yeah. My sister's busy. Are you offering?”
“I’m free. Car’s outside.” He grabbed his keys like it was nothing. “Come on.”
The second we were alone in the driveway the air changed.
I slid into the passenger seat of his black SUV and the leather stuck to the backs of my thighs.
He started the engine and pulled out smoothly, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console right next to my leg.
“Are you always this quiet in cars?” he asked after a minute.
“I’m deciding if you’re actually polite or just waiting for the right moment to be a pervert.”
He laughed under his breath. “Both. Depends on the day.”
We drove past the first turn that would have taken us straight to the café where I was supposed to drop off my application. He kept going, taking the long way around the park instead.
The ride stretched. I watched his hand flex on the steering wheel, thick fingers, wedding band catching the light.
“You missed the turn,” I said.
“Scenic route. Your sister’s not home yet. No rush.” His voice stayed calm, careful, the same polite tone he used when Leah was around. “Are you nervous about the job?”
“A little. Mostly I’m thinking about what you said by the pool.”
He glanced over, eyes dark. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You told me to meet you there tonight. After she falls asleep.” I shifted in the seat and the shorts rode up higher. “Are you still planning on that or was it just talk?”
Marcus kept his eyes on the road but his jaw tightened. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. You’re staying in my house. You’re nineteen. I’m married to your sister. All of that is true. Doesn’t stop me from wanting to see you wet in that water.”
My pussy clenched so hard I had to press my knees together. “You’re careful with your words but your dick isn’t careful at all. I can see it from here.”
He didn’t deny it. The outline in his jeans was thick and obvious, pressing against the zipper. “You’re staring.”
“You’re hard. Hard not to stare.”
He took another long loop around the neighborhood, adding minutes to the drive on purpose.
The car felt smaller. I could smell his cologne mixed with the faint scent of Leah still on his skin from earlier.
“Pull over somewhere,” I said.
“No. Not yet.” He kept driving, polite voice steady. “We’re just talking.”
“Talking while your cock is trying to break out of your pants and my shorts are already soaked. Real polite of you.”
He let out a low sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Are you always filthy with your mouth?”
“Only when a forty-three-year-old man keeps taking the long way just so he can look at my legs.” I spread them a little on purpose.
The shorts were so short the edge of my panties showed. “You like what you see?”
Marcus’s hand left the console and rested on my bare thigh. Warm, heavy, careful at first, just resting there.
Then his fingers slid higher, slow, testing. “I like it a lot. Your skin’s soft. You get this wet from a car ride?”
“I got this wet the second you whispered about the pool. The car is just making it worse.”
He rubbed circles on my inner thigh with his thumb, still not going under the shorts, still being careful.
The ride got longer again as he turned down a quiet side street lined with trees. No houses close. No traffic.
“Take them off,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“The shorts. Take them off. I want to see how wet you really are.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. I lifted my hips and shoved the shorts and panties down together, kicking them onto the floorboard.
The leather seat was cool against my bare ass. My pussy was shiny and open, clit already swollen.
Marcus looked down for a long second while the car idled. “Fuck. Look at that. Pink and dripping already.”
He put the car back in drive and kept going, one hand on the wheel, the other sliding between my legs.
Two thick fingers found my slit and rubbed slowly, spreading the wetness up over my clit. I moaned out loud and pushed against his hand.
“That’s it,” he said, still using that careful polite voice even while he was fingering me. “Ride my fingers while I drive. Don’t come yet. Just feel it.”
I rocked my hips, grinding on his hand. The wet sounds filled the car. His fingers pushed inside me, thick and slow, curling just enough to make my legs shake.
“You’re tight,” he muttered. “Jesus, Anita. Your sister’s pussy doesn’t grip me like this.”
The words hit me like a slap and a turn-on at the same time.
I clenched around his fingers and let out a broken sound. “Don’t talk about her while you’re inside me.”
“I’m not inside you yet. Just my fingers. When I put my cock in you it’ll be deeper than this.” He kept driving, adding another long loop, taking his time, rubbing my clit with his thumb while two fingers pumped in and out. “You going to let me fuck you in the pool tonight or just tease me in the car?”
“Both,” I panted. “I want both.”
He pulled his fingers out, shiny and dripping, and put them against my mouth. “Clean them.”
I sucked his fingers without thinking, tasting myself, watching his eyes darken.
He wiped the rest on my thigh and kept driving, still polite, still careful with the speed limit, like nothing filthy was happening.
My shorts stayed on the floor. My legs stayed open. The ride kept getting longer.
When we finally pulled into the café parking lot he put the car in park and looked at me. “Put your clothes back on. Go drop off the application. I’ll wait.”
I pulled the shorts up, sticky and messy between my legs. “You’re really going to make me walk in there like this?”
“Yes. And when you come back we’re taking the long way home again.” His hand squeezed my thigh one more time. “Tonight’s still happening. Pool. After she sleeps. Don’t forget.”
I opened the door on shaky legs, the wetness already soaking through the shorts again.
“Marcus,” I said before I shut the door.
“Yeah?”
“Drive even slower on the way back.”
He smiled, polite and careful and completely dirty at the same time. “Whatever you want.”