Baby You Got The Keys, Now Shut Up And Drive
Jonsa Smut Week 2017
Day 2: Everything except consummation or jealousy
"Don't pout," Jon scolded his lovely wife, waiting as Sansa pulled her long legs all the way inside the vehicle before closing her door. "It's very unbecoming," he goaded her playfully, admiring the creamy expanse of her thighs that the short length of her dress afforded him.
Quickly, he ducked into the drivers seat and fastened his seatbelt, frowning down at his wristwatch. They were late. Fashionably so, Sansa had called it -as she'd yelled down to him from the upstairs bathroom, while he'd waited patiently on the landing below, reliving the same 'just a second' for twenty long minutes.
Not that he didn't appreciate the care his wife took with her appearance -but as far as Jon was concerned, she was lovely as is, and would look good even if she wore a damn brown paper bag. They were only going to meet Sam, Gilly and Edd for a bite to eat and a few drinks, after all -so admittedly, he'd been less careful with his appearance.
She did look radiant though, and well worth the wait. A simple black lace cocktail dress clung elegantly to her curves, and a pair of strappy heels complimented the look, leaving her to tower over him even more so than she usually did. His friends often busted his chops for their height difference, but Jon found that it had many advantages -none of which he shared with them.
Turning the key in the ignition, Jon shifted their red Infinity into gear and pulled out of the driveway, chirping the tires on the pavement as he sped down the road. "Still angry with me?" He asked when they'd driven roughly about a mile, watching Sansa in the peripheral of his vision, a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as she crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.
Most wives got angry with their husbands for leaving dirty laundry on the floor, or forgetting to take out the trash. His wife was angry with him for teasing her ... stealing a few kisses -and admittedly, his hands had wandered places they probably shouldn't have been, as he'd helped to zip her up into that sexy little black dress. It wasn't hard to work her into a frenzy -and it wasn't as if he hadn't wanted to make love to her right then and there ... But, they were running late.
"I promise to make it up to you as soon as we get home, my love," He offered an olive branch, his hand reaching over into Sansa's lap to squeeze her thigh affectionately. "We can call it an early night. You can get a headache?"
It wouldn't be the first time they'd made up an excuse to take early leave because they couldn't seem to keep their hands off of each other -and their friends damn well knew it, too. But they were newlyweds after all. Not that Jon expected his desire for his wife to ebb anytime soon, mind you. If ever.
"No," Sansa tossed her long auburn locks over her shoulder and placed her hand atop of his. "I've got a better idea."
"Oh?" Jon persisted. "Care to enlighten me?"
Sansa threaded her fingers through his. "You are going to make it up to me now, Mr. Snow," she informed him, sliding his hand up the silky length of her thigh, and tucking it under her dress.
Jon swallowed convulsively, his adam's apple bobbing at his throat as he felt the brush of curls at the vee of her thighs and realized his wife wasn't wearing any panties. Damn her, the scandalous little minx! Was death by desire even a thing? Because Sansa Snow was surely going to be the death of him.
Settling more comfortably in her seat, Sansa let her legs fall open, using her own hand to guide Jon's fingers exactly where she wanted them. "Sansa, I'm driving," he protested, even as he spread her lips on his own, delighting that she was already slick with wanting him.
And so he drove on, doing his best to pretend that his wife wasn't getting herself off in the passenger seat beside him. And using his fingers, too. Not that he minded ...
His eyes darting to her whenever he could spare a glance, Jon watched as Sansa exhaled sharply, the muscles of her stomach constricting under the tight fabric of her dress. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her head lolling side to side as her hips swayed in a slow rhythm against his fingers -a delicious dance of reckless pleasure. Any thoughts of abandoning this mad plan of hers flew out the window with Jon's common sense, as he struggled between watching the road, pleasing his wife, and tamping the growing erection that was now pushing painfully against his jeans.
Jon leaned forward a bit in his seat, accommodating the increased tempo of Sansa's hips as she rutted against his fingers. Her cheeks flushed pink, her gasps and groans grew louder as she worked herself towards her peak, writhing against his hand.
Unable to withstand it any longer, Jon slowed the car, pulling to the side of the road and threw the Infinity in park. Luckily, they were still in the outskirts of the city, but to be honest, he wouldn't have given a damn if they were smack dab in the middle of it! Sansa didn't even notice with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, as they were.
Shrugging out of his seatbelt, Jon leaned over towards the passenger seat and twisted his hand round, curling his fingers upwards, and thrust into her while his thumb worked at her swollen clit. Sansa's eyes flew open at that! She continued to rub against his hand, her eyes glazed with passion, a fine sheen of sweat forming on her brow as she broke apart in his hands. Gods, but she was so fucking beautiful.
Jon leaned in for a kiss, his tongue pushing past her lips to catch the feral growl that clawed its way up her throat, and tumbled into his mouth. He groaned in response, drowning in her passion, as Sansa jerked her hips upwards into his palm -once, twice- her muscles sucking at his fingers as a cry pushed past her lips and she finally came undone. "Yes Jon, yessss!"
Her chest still heaving, Sansa gave him a sated smile as Jon reluctantly withdrew his hand from under her skirt. His fingers wet with her juices, he drew them towards his mouth, eager for the sweet taste of his wife.
Sansa's hand shot out and captured his wrist, pulling it towards her lips, and pushed his fingers fully into her mouth. She sucked them straight to the base, her tongue curling around them quite suggestively as Jon's dick twitched in response.
"Sansa," he groaned, his breath coming in short puffs, his heart thudding against his rib cage. "Please," he begged her -unsure of what he was actually asking of her, but asking nonetheless.
She released his fingers with a slurp, and fixed him with her blue gaze, batting her eyelashes innocently at him while she tugged her dress back down over her thighs. "Come my love, you said so yourself, we are late."
His mouth falling open in disbelief, Jon shook his head, reaching for the shifter and threw the Infinity back into drive. "Evil, bewitching woman," he muttered broodily. "I think I suddenly feel a headache coming on."
Sansa giggled, reaching into Jon's lap to squeeze his thigh affectionately. "My sweet darling husband, do shut up and drive."
Jon punched the gas peddle, kicking up gravel as he steered the car back onto the road. So it was going to be like that huh? Game on then, Mrs. Snow, game on.