Chapter 170: Chapter 170 – Public Display

But I didn’t listen. One of my hands held her waist, while the other guided my rock-hard cock towards its new target: her asshole twitching as if it longed for it. The hole looked tight, pink, and was still slick from the fluids dripping down from her pussy. When the tip of my cock touched it, Charlotte gasped.

“N-No! Not there! Don’t—”

“Why not?” I teased, rubbing the head of my cock against her sensitive anal ring.

“Your big, plump ass has always been tempting, Auntie. This asshole must be missing my cock. I want to feel it again.”

Charlotte shook her head hard, her hands trying to reach back to stop me. “Don’t, Adam—it’s embarrassing! There are people—ah!”

Her protest was cut off by a groan as I firmly pushed the tip of my cock into her tight asshole.

The immediate sensation was different from her pussy—tighter, more constricting, a burning heat of another kind. Charlotte’s asshole was no longer virgin, but it was still incredibly tight.

She let out a long moan, the sound caught in her throat. Her body arched, her ass pushing back as if trying to escape the sudden invasion. But that movement only drove my cock deeper inside.

“Nnngh… it hurts… too big…” she whimpered, tears flowing again.

“But you like it,” I whispered back, beginning to move slowly, pulling out and pushing in, stretching her asshole to accommodate my shaft.

This situation—with the car next to us having its window down, with Charlotte on all fours, her ass high in the air, and my cock buried deep in her ass—drove my arousal even higher. I could feel Charlotte was also flushed hot, her body trembling not just from pain but from the stimulation and the peak of her shame.

But she still tried to protest. “P-Please… stop… someone might see…”

“Let them look,” I replied, quickening my pace.

Plap! Plap!

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed inside the car again, this time deeper, heavier.

I kept enjoying the sensation of this woman, praised by the whole world as the most saintly scientist, now offering her big, soft ass. My cock slammed into her deep insides, each thrust rocking Charlotte’s body and causing the car to sway gently.

Charlotte felt she was going insane. On one hand, the shame and fear of possibly being seen. On the other, the undeniable pleasure of this deep, rough anal penetration. Especially in this position, on all fours with her ass raised high—she felt like a female animal being mounted.

My hands crawled up from her waist, tracing her sweaty back, up to her shoulders, and finally to her face. I grabbed her chin, forcing her head to turn towards the passenger side window—the window facing directly into the car beside us.

“Look,” I whispered in her ear while continuing to pound her ass. “Look at the man in that car. See how he might be watching our car rocking.”

Charlotte shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut. “No… don’t… I don’t want to see…”

“Open your eyes!” I barked, slapping her ass.

SMACK!

“And open your mouth wide. Let him see your face as you orgasm.”

“No way—!” But her protest was cut off as I thrust in especially deep, hitting a spot that made her eyes bulge.

I used my fingers to pry open her tightly clamped mouth. I gripped her lower and upper jaw, forcing her mouth open wide. Now, from a certain angle, the man in the other car might see the silhouette of a woman with her mouth wide open behind our car’s tinted film.

Charlotte groaned, tears streaming down. She felt brutally humiliated—fucked in the ass in a car, forced to open her mouth like a cheap whore, all while a stranger might be watching.

Our car rocked more vigorously from my increasingly wild movements. The rocking was noticeable from the outside—the seats vibrating, the windows trembling faintly.

And indeed, from the corner of my eye, I saw the man in the other car turn. His eyes fixed on our vehicle, his eyebrows raised in question. He must have heard something—the muffled moans, the sound of skin slapping, or maybe he was just curious about the car rocking oddly at a red light.

Charlotte, her face almost pressed against the glass, saw the man’s gaze. Their eyes met—or at least, Charlotte felt they did. In her shame-filled, paranoid mind, it was as if the man could see right into the car, see her being impaled from behind like an animal.

The shame was immense, crushing. Charlotte wanted to disappear, wanted the earth to open up and swallow her. She cursed everything—cursed her best friend’s stepson who was now raping her, cursed herself for being as eager as a whore, cursed her body for responding wildly even in this humiliating state.

She kept staring at the man, trying to read his expression.

Did he know? Could he recognize who the slut in this car was? But the car’s window tint was dark enough—from outside, only vague silhouettes were visible. Sound? Maybe her barely-suppressed moans were faintly audible.

But that uncertainty was even more torturous. Her mind conjured the worst scenarios: the man recognized her, tomorrow photos or videos would spread, her career destroyed, her reputation ruined, everyone would know the Sacred Healer Charlotte was actually a slut who loved getting fucked in a car.

Meanwhile, I kept humiliating her.

“Look, he’s still watching. He’s probably imagining how slutty the woman in this car is. A woman getting her asshole speared by a big cock while moaning like a bitch in heat.”

“Ah… stop it… don’t talk like that…” Charlotte gasped, but her voice was weak. Her asshole clenched tightly around my shaft, as if trying to resist the humiliation by enjoying it deeper.

“You like it, don’t you?” I teased, speeding up my tempo. “You like being humiliated. You like being seen as a whore. A holy woman like you needs this—needs to be reminded that beneath the Sacred Healer’s robe, you’re just a cock-hungry slut.”

Every degrading word was like a whip, making Charlotte more aroused and more broken. She felt torn apart—one part screaming in refusal, shame, and anger. The other part… the dark part she didn’t want to acknowledge… churned with shameful pleasure.

Her asshole grew wetter—a mix of her body’s natural lubricant and the residual fluids from her pussy. The wet sounds of my cock sliding in and out grew louder. The car rocked with an undeniable rhythm.

The man in the other car was still staring. Now his expression was clearer—he wasn’t just curious anymore. A faint smile played on his lips. He knew what was happening. He might not know who was in the car, but he knew people were having sex in the car next to him.

And that was enough to make Charlotte feel utterly destroyed.

She closed her eyes, unable to bear looking any longer. But I forced them open again.

“No! Let me be! I don’t want to!” she sobbed.

“You do,” I whispered, thrusting harder. “You’re a shameless woman, Charlotte. You can handle this. Look, he’s still watching. He’s enjoying the free show. Open your eyes and tell him how much you love getting your ass fucked in front of him.”

“No, please…”

Charlotte felt another orgasm approaching—one born not just from physical stimulation, but from the mix of shame, fear, and undeniable pleasure. Her body trembled, her asshole gripping my shaft tightly as if trying to crush it.

“I’m… I’m going to…” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Don’t you dare,” I ordered. “Hold it. Wait until the light turns green.”

But Charlotte’s body was on the brink of control. The contractions in her asshole grew stronger, her breathing erratic. She bit her lip until it bled, trying to hold back the unbearable explosion.

The light was still red.

Time stretched on agonizingly long.

The man in the other car was now clearly smiling. He even raised an eyebrow, as if in encouragement. Charlotte wanted to die.

Finally, the light turned green.

The car beside us started moving slowly. But before it drove away completely, the man waved—a small, meaningful wave.

And that was the final blow.

Charlotte could hold back no longer. Her body convulsed, her asshole squeezing my cock with incredible force. She screamed—a long scream of release and despair. Her fluids gushed out, soaking the seat again.

I also released, flooding her asshole with a hot, torrential stream of cum.

We were silent, only heavy breathing. The car began moving again. Charlotte drove with a body still trembling, while my cock remained buried in her ass, now filled with cum.

Charlotte cried. She saw her own reflection in the windshield. And behind her, my form still pressed against her, my cock still inside her ass.

She felt truly destroyed. Nothing remained of the Sacred Healer she once was. All that was left was a sex-addicted slut who could even orgasm from being humiliated in front of a stranger.

And the most painful part—amidst all that ruin, there was a part of her that was… satisfied.

“Get up,” I commanded. “We still have to get to the hotel.”

She slowly rose, picking up her skirt and panties from where they lay, putting them back on even though her body was still wet and a mess.

She sat in the driver’s seat again, started the engine. Her hands were still trembling.

And we drove on, heading towards the Grand Aurora Hotel, with the car seat wet and the pungent smell of sex filling the air.

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