I started to slide my hand over but quickly pulled it back."What's the matter?" my husband said."I'm afraid. What if that's not what the guy wants, and he causes a commotion?"My husband leaned over and whispered, "Trust me, it's what he wants, or he wouldn't have sat next to you."I still wasn't convinced. If anything, I was more nervous than before. I was breaking out in a cold sweat.'I want to do it,' I told myself, but my hand wasn't listening to me. It rested in my lap, quivering like a bowl of jello."If you don't do something quick, the guy's going to get off," my husband whispered.I grabbed a quick look. Sure enough, the guy's hand was working like a jackhammer.'Okay,' I told myself. 'It's now or never. It's not like I haven't jerked a cock off before.'I willed my hand to move onto the arm of the chair and across the chasm until it rested on the man's thigh. He moved, and my hand froze. When he stopped moving, I realized he wasn't getting up to leave but was positioning his cock. She continued to shriek and covered her ears trying to block it all out. It didn’t help to stop the melee.Patrick sat in fear, gripping the seat cushion, frozen. Waiting for whatever was outside to burst through the windshield.Then, after what felt like an eternity, it just... stopped.Amber’s sobs rolled through the silence.“Get your fucking clothes on, NOW!” Patrick yelled as he fumbled in his pocket for the keys.The drive back to Amber’s apartment was silent. She half-expected to see demons circling the van when Patrick turned on the headlights, but the beams only illuminated the foggy mist. A fog that, in some kind of wicked pun, clouded her mind. Words just did not seem appropriate.Patrick was the first to speak. He pulled the van into a parking spot and killed the engine. His head rested back against the driver’s seat and an exaggerated sigh left his lips.“Should we go to Sheriff Thomas?” he asked the windshield.“And tell him what, exactly?” Amber replied. “That we experienced.
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