Chapter 66: Squirting

Tom looked at her for a second after the door shut before he spoke up;

"Yeah, You came." he said, not really knowing how to start the conversation properly.

His eyes moved over her properly then. His eyes caught the oversized gown, the face cap, the ponytail pulled through it, the intentional attempt to erase her usual sharpness.

Then the Body Language Analysis made Tom noticed what Stella would rather he didn’t. Her shoulders were held a little too tight. Her chin sat lower than usual. Whatever confidence she wore so easily in public had thinned under the disguise.

"You still look gorgeous, even like this." Tom blunted out.

Stella’s mouth curved. She wasn’t one to accept what felt like pity or anything closer. She shrugged once and said;

"Well. I know. I look gorgeous in anything."

Tom let out a short chuckle at the shamelessness of it. That answer was pure her, making her pride intact even while sitting in a car at a fueling station in clothes meant to make her invisible.

"You up for a massage?" he asked out if the blues.

Stella turned her body toward him, confusion flickering across her face. Not refusal. Just the lag of a woman trying to understand the angle. After a beat, she gave a small nod.

"Back seat," Tom gestured with his head.

She opened the door and moved without argument. The oversized gown shifted around her legs as she stepped out into the station lights and then into the rear of the Mercedes.

Tom remained in front only long enough to take the dark bottle from the small bag he had prepared after arriving early. Heavenly Sensation Oil. He slipped it into his pocket, then joined her in the back.

Stella sat angled slightly toward the window, she hadn’t pulled off the face cap. Tom settled beside her and took the bottle out again.

"Turn a little," he said. "Give me your shoulders."

She obeyed after a second’s hesitation, shifting so her back was more available to him. Tom poured a small amount of the oil into his palm, rubbed his hands together until the slick warmth coated his skin, and set the bottle against his thigh within easy reach. Then he placed both hands on her shoulders and began to work the muscles with firm, measured pressure.

Stella stiffened at the first contact.

Then the oil took effect.

"Mhmmm..." A sharp, involuntary moan broke out of her throat, louder than the car could fully contain. Her spine arched slightly under his hands as heat flooded the skin he touched, nerves lighting up far beyond the ordinary response of a massage.

Tom leaned in just enough for his voice to reach her ear. "Keep it down. Unless you want attention on us."

Stella nodded quickly, breathing already uneven. "I know-"

He pressed into her shoulders again, his thumbs dragging slowly along the muscle, and another moan tore out of her before she could trap it. The sound filled the back seat, raw and startled, as if her body had stopped consulting her entirely.

Tom felt the tremor move through her under his palms and continued lower, rubbing the oil down the line of her back and then over the sides of her waist with a very slow pressure.

When the glide of his hands began to dry, he stopped only long enough to retrieve the bottle from his thigh, pour another measure into his palm, and coat his fingers again. The second application made Stella shudder as soon as he touched her. Whatever the oil did, it stacked. Each fresh layer seemed to make her skin more reactive than the last.

Tom moved to her thighs.

He started on the outside first, broad strokes from knee to hip, spreading the slick warmth evenly. Stella’s breathing changed at once.

The muscles under his hands jumped and tightened, then loosened unwillingly as he worked deeper. When he shifted inward, the reaction intensified. Her legs twitched hard enough that the gown slipped further up her lap. Tom poured more oil into his hands without comment, the quiet sound of the bottle opening briefly cutting through her uneven breaths, and returned to the sensitive inner lines of her thighs with slower, heavier pressure.

Stella’s knees parted under the contact before she seemed to decide they should. The tremor in her legs worsened the higher he went. Every pass of his thumbs dragged another broken sound out of her, softer now only because she was biting them back. The oil shone on her skin under the intermittent wash of station lights through the tint, and the air in the car had already changed, it was now hotter, marked by the scent of the product and the unmistakable smell of her arousal.

Tom parted her thighs fully.

The gown shifted under his wrists, and that was when he saw it...

The evidence of how intense what he had been doing to her, was. Tom’s lips parted.

The seat beneath her was wet. Not a faint mark but soaking wet. A clear, glossy patch of fluid where her body had already given way. Her panties, still in place, were soaked through, the fabric darkened and clinging.

Tom stared at it for half a second, lips parting.

Stella followed his gaze. Her throat moved as she swallowed.

"...I just squirted," she exclaimed in a low and disbelieving voice.

Tom’s hands remained on her thighs, the oil still shining over his fingers. The speed of the oil’s effectiveness left him briefly stunned. He had expected intensity but he had not expected her to break open from shoulders and thighs alone, fast enough to leave a wet mark on his seat before he had even properly touched her cunt.

Stella looked at him, her eyes darker now, her breath still uneven. "What did you just use on me?"

Tom met her gaze, the surprise in his expression giving way to something hotter and satisfied. He clicked the bottle shut with one hand and slipped it back into his pocket even though Stella couldn’t see it.

"Erm... It’s a secret item, to make sure coming out here in that disguise was worth it." he replied her with a small smirk.

Stella swallowed hard. For a moment pride, shock, and hunger tangled openly across her face. Then her thighs shifted under his hands, not closing, but adjusting...

"Then don’t stop. Keep using it." she said and spread her thighs.

"Actually, I’m not planning to stop..." Tom’s response came out meek but it landed.