It is a calm, warm, moon-lit night. She sits behind the wheel, driving, alone; a rare occurrence. Heck, or as she often felt, Hell!, being alone ever was a fucking rarity.
There was something she usually did when finally left to her own devices. One manual activity that brought her rare but great satisfaction. Digital manipulations of the most personal sort, and Christ! she needed sorting tonight.
OK! She lets out a relieved sigh, an exhalation full of meaning, though unheard by anyone else. Driving alone, cranking up the radio; funny how she so often fusses for quiet but loves loud music in a vehicle.
She considers the situation, listing the positives in her mind:
1. she was alone (yes, I did say that before)
2. on a rural road (low traffic volume)
3. under cover of darkness (low streetlight volume)
4. well-known route (bumps and turns predictable)
5. short dress (low fabric volume)
6. skimpy panties (ditto)
7. wet (her and panties, from a previous encounter)
8. almost an hour from home (ah!, rural life)
and ‘The Clincher’,
9. previous encounter (hadn’t made her cum) (ad nauseam)
The only negative she can come up with is the issue of highway safety.
Fuck that! Decision made.
Reaching downward with her right hand, she’s always been more comfortable steering with her left, luckily, she lightly draws the first two fingers upward from her right knee. Emmm, soft, as he said earlier. She reaches to the other leg, tracing fingertips softly upon that warm thigh. Now, as she nears the crotch of her panties, still wet from his cum and her initial hopes, she notices her southern lips give a slight twitch.
Stretching the narrow elastic edge of the right leg opening she feels his cum leaking from her cunt, catches the scent, alas, more his than hers. (Yeah, alluded to above.) Alright, she’s always enjoyed using that to enable a gratifying rub; her clit only cooperates with a lot of lubrication.
She realizes that for this to be comfortable (and clean) some movement and/or removal of her clothes is necessary. Tucking the front of her dress up under the seatbelt, she snickers somewhat glumly, that, and this horribly confining bra will have to serve as the ‘restraint’ part of this episode.
Again moving her right hand to her panties, she reaches in the low front just at the plateau of her cozy mound. Moving her fingers over her folds, she notices she is too dry for comfort.
Her fingers find her mouth, she cups them closely to hold some spit. Entering her panties she feeds this to her hungry pussy. Better. She removes her hand then pulls the pantie’s crotch aside, clamping it between her left thigh and her cunt. Needing more lubrication to be content, she once more reaches to her mouth. She tastes herself, her mildness, laced with the salty musk of his cum.
As predicted, hardly any oncoming traffic and no one behind to cause annoying mirror-glare. She’s been lucky enough to hold the speed limit as well, thus far, and to not slip over the pavement’s edge.
But she still feels awkward and decides the panties have to ‘go’, if not off, then down. Down seems fine, there is a lot of stretch to the fabric. God, she wishes she could spread farther and push her cunt skyward. Open and up always feels so good.
She wishes she’d brought water because now she needs more saliva. She manages to eke out another half mouthful and begins to rub it over her hood. Her clit is encouraged but emerges warily. It wonders if it’s really worth the bother, then realizing ‘SHE’ is the only one present, thinks more positively and ventures forth. Sad to say, but ‘HE’ has been a bit of a disappointment – too often! So much so, that even with the circling, the pressure, the need, good results don’t seem a sure bet yet.
Clit: “Woman, you’d best get a hot fantasy brewing there, or I’m going back inside.”
She reaches, though not far back, to thoughts of a man, a very talented man of whom she first became aware through his stories. Damn fine, hot, horny stories! She still reads them. And hopes for more. Then, they had shared some messages, him, so witty, wise and kind also. She, amazed that he’d taken the time for her. Not long after, finding out he’d developed an interest in drawing she’d teasingly asked if, sight unseen, he’d do a sketch of her. She wistfully sighs, warmly remembering his quick response to that request. A fairly accurate rendering gleaned only from written details.
Emmm…this could work. Her cunt twitches in agreement and her clit hasn’t barred the door either.
To be continued, hopefully a bit more raunchily.
