Inside the fogged-up patrol car, Miyako was already halfway into Renji's lap, skirt bunched around her hips, pantyhose threatening to rip open at the crotch.
The car windows were tinted black so no one could see what they were doing inside. But the problem was, even if they could, none of them cared.
Especially not Miyako who should have been the most worried of the duo.
Their mouths crashed together over and over. It was one of those stupid, scattered, disarranged lips-fucking caused by an explosion of sexual, lustful energy.
"Mhm… mhm," Miyako kept moaning into his mouth as they continued in a wet, desperate frenzy.
Their tongues slid with each other, even their teeth scraped against the other, spit smearing across chins and cheeks.
She moaned into every kiss, loud and shameless, one hand fisted in his hair, the other clawing at his chest under his hoodie.
