totalwildcard | Causeway Parking Lot to the Mainland; Later Tuesday Afternoon

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Causeway Parking Lot to the Mainland; Later Tuesday Afternoon

It might not have ultimately been too much of a surprise which car in the parking lot was Harley's current ride. At least if you happened to know the Chevy Impala was Dean's ~~provided it was even present on Tuesday~~. The funky 1970s green Chevy Chevelle sedan (four doors, see what she'd said about the back seat?) was of course Harley's: a classic look, but not so flashy as to attract too much attention and immediately get her in trouble as soon as she'd grabbed it from where the very unfortunate previous owner had left it.

Although the main hint that it was hers was still probably that she'd parked her butt on the hood of the thing as she waited for Marc to get there.

Call it a freebie.

(for that guy, continued from here!

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Of course.

Harley gave a happy shiver in response, and a snicker. "Good," she breathed, and just to sell that, gave him a particularly all-encompassing stroke. "Now, I'm gonna have to get off ya, but you'll like that. Just hold on."

Marc might've made a comment about how he couldn't hold on and let her move. But that stroke of her hand made words, much like himself, very hard.

There was a sound halfway between a grunt and a moan though, so that was something.

"Glad you understand," Harley replied cheerfully to his noise.

And then sadly let go of him, so she could move off of his lap, just careful and slow enough to not make him yank on her hair (there was a time for everything!). She didn't go far, though, just right beside him on the seat, and her hand returned to him about as fast.

She considered being a tease, for about the length of a breath. And then looked at how wonderfully hard he was, and decided, nah. The sole bit of teasing was the way she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, right before leaning over his lap.

And taking him right on in, like he was possibly some kind of treat she had an urge to savor - an impression that was only sold further by the muffled little moan around him. It wasn't even just for show, Harley was just... very, very into him right now.

Nope, no yanking. A tightening of his hand to go with the low groan he gave when the wet heat of her mouth surrounded him, but nothing like a pull. Even as diamond hard as he was, blood going nowhere above his waist, Marc didn't that Harley had come off a relationship with an abusive prick masquerading as a man. So Marc wasn't going to do anything that might remotely trigger a bad memory for her, no matter how turned on he was.

(Now if she wanted certain things done that was different. But that was for her to initiate, not him to demand.)

But all that was background. Things Marc didn't even need to think about, he just did. His conscious thoughts, such as they were, were zeroed on on how good her mouth felt, and how that moan did some very nice things that got him groaning in return.

There was probably stuff to talk about and boundaries to establish, but it could wait until some time when there was at least a semblance of clear-headedness present. For now, it was best to just err on the side of caution.

On that front.

Because Harley definitely wasn't doing that too much with how deep she took him practically straight away. Sure, this sideways angle wasn't the best and meant there were some limitations to what she could do, but also she could literally do this upside down and didn't have much in the way of an easily triggered gag reflex left, so...

So, yes. She could really put in the work of enveloping as much of him as she could on the way down, then hollowing out her cheeks a little on the pull back. She meant business, goddammit!

Marc was not complaining about the angle. Far as he was concerned she was doing a great job right where she was - no pun intended - and could keep on going. A tension built inside of him, but it was the right kind. The kind that got him moving to seek out more of her mouth when she pulled back, and Marc saying things that weren't really sentences or possibly even words, but which sounded highly complimentary.

Oh, Harley knew she was doing good when his hips went chasing her mouth. And she could reward that, too, making those upwards movements more shallow, and using them more to her advantage for trying to use her tongue in ways that echoed those of her thumb, earlier.

His noises were pretty and she wanted more of them. Call her greedy.

Harley was getting a whole lot more of those noises, particularly now that she'd added in that movement of her tongue. Marc's hand kneaded at the back of her neck as much as he could without letting her hair go.

In addition to the noises Marc did manage some words. Not sentences, but things like "That's it" and "Damn you're beautiful" and so on.

Clearly one of them had to pick up the slack, now that Harley's often babbly mouth was fully occupied. Best she could do was a happy hum in return.

Maybe two. For good luck?

She kept going. Maybe picking up the pace just a little. Getting his length a little slick as she did, because she wasn't afraid to be a little wet and messy, ever.

The humming was good something, that was for sure. Though it did briefly derail Marc's ability to talk. There was a hiss of breath that more coherency might have made an appreciative "Fuck" but it was mainly just noise.

There was more movement though, because damn her mouth felt good (and there were noises to that effect as well). Nothing demanding, nothing painful, just trying to be in sync with what she was doing as that tension in him continued to build.

He had all of Harley's focus to a point where she wasn't even fantasizing about later in the background of her mind. She was just purely here, in the tactile sensations of the shape and weight of him in her mouth, the faint but welcome strain in her jaw, the way he dragged against her tongue and the roof of her mouth on every movement she made.

Listening to his noises and eagerly moving with him as best she could. Trying to encourage --

Actually, she could pull off him just for a second, just for a big gasp of a breath and a, "Come on, you can still fuck me a little bit."

And back down she went, with that invitation. She could take a little more than what he was already daring to give.

Again that got a huff of laughter for her directness. And hey, if she was going to - well not ask, she'd flat out said it. Either way Marc was going to take her up on it and start thrusting into her mouth.

Not as hard and pounding as he'd start out if actually fucking her, but not shy either. More getting a feel for what both of them could manage with this angle. And even if this was as far as it went, it was clear Marc felt it was pretty damn good.

Harley made what sounded suspiciously like one of her little 'eep!' noises, only completely garbled around him. And not a complaint.

It took her a moment to adjust, keeping her own movements shallow to have a little more control over the angle. But it didn't take long at all, really, before it was clear she was just fine and could take it. Maybe a little bit more, even.

She was certainly still sucking him down like an absolute champ. Eager to bring him higher.

The sucking was great. Marc maybe said something to that effect. Or positive sounds that meant to convey the same thing.

Once he and Harley had figured out the new dynamics, Marc started thrusting harder. Not so much that he was trying to choke her, but so he could get more of that incredible suction, and her lips, and her tongue...

And he was definitely getting closer to the edge.

Harley would have grinned if not, well. Had this not been taking up the entirety of her attention.

As it was, she still managed a noise around him that conveyed something similar, a low moan that really just turned into more vibrations, especially since he happened to be buried deep near her throat when it happened. Harley would have claimed credit for the timing regardless of whether it was a happy accident or not.

She could take even less genuine credit for her other noises which were mostly down to wetness and movement, and the added harshness of his thrusts she was accepting fully because she could tell he was getting closer, and that? That was apparently a giant turn-on for her. He'd been waiting since the Fandom parking lot, and Harley really wanted him to have a climax to match that.

Her lips were really going to be feeling this later.

Maybe Marc could kiss them better later?

For right now though Marc's world was everything she was doing to him, and soon enough the movement of his hips got harder and sharper. His hand on the back of her neck tightened and with a sound like he'd been hit with a cannonball to the gut Marc finally came, his vision swimming white in the process.

Yes, yes, yes, success!

And Harley, of course, with her singular devotion to the task at hand (so to speak) sucked him through it. Every drop, figuratively and literally.

Which Marc very much appreciated. Both because of the courtesy and because she was really good at it.

Once Marc's breathing started to calm and something like vision returned, he rubbed his thumb against the back of her neck to get her attention. More specifically he wanted to get her sitting up for a kiss. Because he wasn't fully out of the zone where he wanted physical sensations, he wanted to show his appreciation, and also while he could be an asshole he wasn't the kind who refused to lock lips with someone who'd just drank him down.

Harley's mouth pulled off him with a faintly wet gasp.

But whatever desire for getting her breath fully back she had, it could wait, as she did in fact sit up, eager to meet him for a kiss.

Her lips felt a little puffy and like they were ever so slightly stinging, but that was really just extra spice for her.

Marc still felt a little hazy, so right now all he wanted to do was kiss her like it was muscle memory - and maybe by now it sometimes was. Whatever the reason, the kiss was soft, with gentle sucking at her lips, and even something like nuzzling at her cheek a little.

Oh.

Oh, okay.

Harley could respond in kind, keeping it gentle and soft with a little something else around the edges that they didn't need to talk about. Her hand cradled his cheek.

"Not bad, Doc," Marc murmured when he was finally able to make words again. Not lots of words, but you had to start somewhere. Hopefully him kissing her and massaging the back of her neck helped convey a bit more.

It did, and anyway, Harley also chuckled all soft and hoarse.

"Not bad, huh?" she teased, and nipped gently at his lips. "Good thing your body speaks more elaborate, sweetie."

"Pretty good?" Marc offered now that the blood was going back to other parts of his body. He kissed her between each suggestion. "Hot? Sexy? Fucking distracting?"

Harley snickered into one of the kisses.

"Yes, go on, keep goin'."

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