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her thighs as wide apart as she could in the confined space.
    “I want to fuck you – over the hood of the car.”
    Emily did not flinch. In fact, she nodded her head in willing agreement. We stepped out of the car and the warm air wrapped itself around us like a blanket. Emily’s body was pale in the moonlight, ethereal and slim as a wisp. I bent her over the hood of the car and spread her legs wide. Emily splayed her fingers wide on the paintwork as though to hold herself steady. My cock swiped slowly along the pouting lips of her pussy and then I slid inside her, coming up onto the balls of my feet for balance and leverage.
    The grip of her pussy was like sliding inside a silken glove. The tightness of her was accentuated by her wetness. I held myself still, deep within her and Emily gave a little contented gasp of encouragement.
    I gave Emily a playful slap on the bottom as I was driving my hips into her. She turned her head and glanced at me over her shoulder. Her mouth was open, her eyes slanted with a look of sloe-eyed sexuality.
    It occurred to me then that we were physically perfect for each other. The length of Emily’s legs, the petite shape of her figure was a perfect match – all the parts that mattered fitted together perfectly so that the sex we shared seemed entirely natural and unforced.
    A car drove past, the headlights playing through the veil of low shrubs and dappling us with light for a sweeping moment. The car drove on without slowing, the engine changing down through the gears as the vehicle tackled the peak of the mountains. The sound finally faded into the night just as Emily began to moan, telling me she was on the verge of coming. One of her hands snaked down between her spread legs and found the sensitive tip of her clit. I could feel the brush of her other fingers against the end of my shaft. In the wetness of her arousal, our bodies made soft slapping sounds.
    I told Emily not to come, and increased the tempo of my thrusts. I could feel the forced restraint of her now, like she was clenching her body, holding herself in check with a desperate will. I dug my hands into her hips and pulled her hard onto my cock so that I was completely inside her. She threw back her head and I snatched at her shoulder then slid my hand around until it was wrapped around her throat. I was grunting, growling – racing quickly to the point of orgasm. Having Emily held, pinned and helpless in my grip was a turn on. She was allowing me to use her – welcoming and encouraging me.
    At the moment before I began to thrill, I gave Emily permission to enjoy her own orgasm, and our rhythm broke down as we both went in search of release. Emily began to push back against me, and the thrust of my hips became savage. Each crashing together of our bodies filled the air with grunts and passion-fuelled groans. Emily arrived at the abyss before me; her body wrenched and then went stiff. I kept driving myself deep inside her. She hunched her shoulders, and then gasped – did the same thing two more times – and then went very still. She was panting, tumbling down from her high and struggling to catch her breath.
    I sensed the instant when I had reached the trigger of my own orgasm – that split-second of no return. Emily sensed it too. She came off the hood of the car, turned and dropped to her knees in the same movement with her mouth wide open. I threw back my head, literally saw stars – and then came hard across her tongue.
    During the drive back to her apartment we talked quietly about the evening, and Emily revealed that the fantasy of a car full of men stopping and wanting to fuck her had tipped her over the edge, down into the spiral of a powerful orgasm. But she was like that as a person and as a sex partner.
    Emily was a free spirit. She taught me spontaneity and in return I taught her some aspects of the BDSM lifestyle. In truth, BDSM was never for Emily. She was as keen to try breast-play as she was bondage –