Driving Home

“Are you warm enough?” I asked her. After several days of highs around 80°F it had suddenly dropped into the 30s and we were trying to get home before it got even colder. With the heater blaring in the car she answered in the affirmative.

“Good,” I replied. “Take your pants down to your knee.”

She bit her bottom lip in the cutest way and shuffled herself far enough off the seat to slide her khakis out of the way.

“Underwear too.”

She complied as I took the first two fingers of my right hand into my mouth, keeping the left on the steering wheel. I reached my hand down between her thighs, then told her to move her pants further down. She did and I spread her legs further apart. I slipped the damp fingers between her lips to find them damp as well. I touched her as gently as I could manage at the awkward angle, sliding them up and down, waiting for the familiar breakthrough of wetness. She began rocking so that my fingers were closer to her clit. I’m not the most perceptive lover in the world, but I was pretty sure I knew what that meant. I begin to circle around her clit, not wanting to put too much pressure on it so early. I was surprised at what I found.

“Your clit is already hard!”

She just breathed, “Mmm hmmm” as my fingers zeroed in on it, moving in fast circles.

We pulled up to a traffic light and stopped. She squeaked when she looked around. “All these people right there!” she exclaimed before moaning and pressing harder into me. I joked about needing to find an SUV who could see down into here better and she just moaned.

“Or a semi,” I continued, turning onto a darker side street. “Maybe we should just go find a truck stop and give those guys a show. They’d appreciate it. You feel like sucking some strangers’ cocks tonight?”

She didn’t say anything, just let out another of her adorable squeaks.

“You’re not answering me. You’ve got 5 se…”

“No.” The word came out like a moan. “No, not tonight.”

Her back was pressed into the seat into which she had sunk. My fingers continued making circles around her clit. We pulled up at the next light, this one always seemingly taking forever to change. It was there that her breaths turned to grunts which got faster and higher pitched. She thrashed in her seat, coming about a mile an a half from where we started. I was impressed. I was also thankful, as the strain on my arm was getting considerable.

We pulled through the now green light and my hand rested on her bare thigh while she breathed heavily, recovering from her orgasm. When she sounded calmed I ask her if she had recovered. When she said she had I gave her instructions.

“Good. You are to use at least two fingers to fuck yourself, hard and fast.”

She did as commanded. She was vigorous, hand rocking back and forth, fingers sliding in and out. We were still on dark roads, but as we pulled out onto a major, well lit thoroughfare she started moaning and writhing more. She’s such an exhibitionist. We pulled back into the dark and I kept glancing down to see her hand moving. I asked her how many finger she was using. “Two,” was the reply, so I told her to add another, and gently rock her hand back and forth. She did, using her other hand to help.

“Now, I want you to come for me again before we get home. If you do that then I’ll let you pull your pants back up before you go in the house.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she said, sounding excited and nervous.

“Well then, you’d better start trying.”

She did. I couldn’t see what she was doing to herself, but within mere minutes she was screaming, climaxing for me as I’d instructed.

A few minutes of silence passed, filled only with her breathing before I muttered, “Damn.”

She let out a soft, breathy, “Hmmmm.”

As we approached the house I said I was going to take her in the house, bend her over the end of the couch and fuck her. She protested, saying she needed the bathroom and we had to put away groceries. We pulled into the driveway and she began covering her flesh again.

“Fine, when I stop the car you go inside to the bathroom. I’ll grab as many bags as I can and bring them in. You’d better be done and ready to fuck by then. If not I’m going to drag you off the toilet and fuck you anyway.”

She ran toward the door, and by the time I had the trunk of the car open she was gone. I set the bags down in the kitchen as she emerged from the bathroom. She leaned over the arm of the couch, pants around her ankles, her bare ass in the air. I unbuttoned and unzipped my fly and plunged my cock inside her. She bent her knees a bit and rested across the arm and I grabbed her hair and fucked her. Before long I pulled out and told her to go to the bed and hang her head off the edge. I was going to fuck her face.

She was still wasting no time, and was in position by the time I got to the bed. Still, I paused to undress, giving her a moment to get comfortable. Her head hung backward off the bed and she licked her lips and opened her mouth wide. I pushed all the way into her throat until I heard her start to choke, then pulled back out. I repeated this several times, and each time she held my cock in her longer. I pulled back and began fucking her mouth with faster, shorter strokes. Still, I didn’t want to come down her throat like I’d told her earlier. I wanted to fuck her.

I walked around to the other side of the bed and knelt between her legs. I slipped my arms under them and pulled her up all the way on to the bed. With her legs held high I slipped easily into her. After checking to make sure she was okay (I can easily bottom out in her in that position, leaving her rather sore) I didn’t hold anything back. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to come in her. I did both those things.

After catching my breath I pulled myself up and began to get dressed. There were still groceries to bring in, after all. The dry fabric of my clothes only made the wetness of my cock, balls and everything adjacent even more obvious. While some of that certainly came from me, I feel pretty sure that she had enjoyed that thoroughly.

I’m so thankful for all the ways that she trusts me and for all the ways that she follows my instruction. I’m thankful for her inner slut (and its forays into being an outer slut). I’m thankful for the gorgeous flesh that she loves to display as much as I do. And I’m thankful that she’s mine. That every inch of her is mine as I am hers.

4 Responses to “Driving Home”

  1. The Week In Kink (WinK#23) | The Vagina Adventures Says:
    March 8th, 2009 at 8:34 pm

    […] Driving Home […]

  2. Mesix Says:
    March 9th, 2009 at 6:13 am

    Glee! I’m holding you pretty much personally responsible for how mad horny I was after reading this last night. Thank you! ~<3

    ((As for who the hell I am, I read your livejournal under a different name, but figure my sexblogging *really* won’t go over well with the parents. Feel free to e-mail me if you’re curious –you’re far enough removed that I really don’t care about anonymity.))

  3. Alex Says:
    March 10th, 2009 at 2:25 pm

    You already know this because I told you over Twitter, but Elizabeth said I should, so I am:

    This is one of the hottest things I have read in… well, ever. And the fact that it happened and is 100% real makes it even better. You two are great. Great great.

  4. Curvaceous Dee Says:
    March 12th, 2009 at 3:08 am

    And I thought my car adventures were hot – this has just aroused me something wicked! What a great experience. Thank you for sharing it!

    xx Dee

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