The Drive Home

I’m on my way home from a long weekend in the city. The sun is setting as I cross the bridge, and that always inspires romance in me. I’ve had the day to recover from two nights of dancing and watching other people fuck. I’m feeling sexy in my hot-weather party pajamas, a short, thin, army green skirt, strappy black tank top, and black lace-up boots. I’ve shoved all my party clothes into my magic purse, and now I have to dig through it all to find my phone because the radio just cut out and there’s traffic.

I start contemplating the weekend, images of my incredibly sexy friends in a naked puddle, moaning, giggling, screaming, slapping. I’m more of a voyeur these days, because I’ve got a crush. I start thinking about him. He works at a wine shop I’ve been frequenting for months, but I only met him two weeks ago. I can’t stop thinking about the way he looked at me. The way he looks into me, unflinching, and with that kind, confident smile. It has to be more than good customer service. Right? Nobody looks at someone like that for the sake of politeness.

The more I think about it, the more I think I could really go for a glass of wine. I mean, it’s a good wine shop, I’ve had a long weekend, a half-bottle of Barolo seems appropriate. I’ve sufficiently talked myself into it, just as the traffic lightens up.

As I approach the parking lot I start to feel nervous. Am I being creepy right now? It’s probably all in my head. Maybe there was no “look.” I’m just here to get wine, no big deal. I repeat this to myself over and over, trying to get my heart rate down, but I can feel my cheeks are flushed when I walk in the door. I look around, the color drops from my face. He’s not here. I’m disappointed and relieved as I exchange polite hellos with a different guy, the usual guy.

I’m just about to make a decision and move on to other things when I hear his voice, just behind me. “Can I help you with anything?” Now my heart is pounding faster than before, and there’s a shock wave that reverberates from my ears to my pussy. I turn around slowly and there he is with his auburn hair and eyes to match, and his smile, broad and inviting. I try not to falter when I tell him which bottle I’m thinking of. “Excellent choice,” he says. I bet he says that to all the girls.

We walk to the counter and every moment that passes the heat in my body increases, I’m flustered as I dig around for my wallet, not breaking eye contact as I try to think of small talk. I have to glance down to get my card, and he to work the register. Now it’s time to say goodbye. Already? My gaze lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

I walk out the door. Fresh air. I can breathe again, even though my entire body is throbbing. Why do I get so nervous around him? I don’t get nervous when I’m naked in front of strangers. I don’t get nervous when people approach me. I can’t continue down this train of thought because there it is again. Blood pumping, pussy juice inducing, tingles everywhere—his voice—calling to me from behind.

I was just about to get in my car, and when I turn around he’s running up to me. Oh my god, what’s he doing? Is he going to ask me out? I notice he has something in his hand as he walks right up to me. “You dropped these.” He opens his fist and shows me a pair of black lace panties that must have fallen out of my purse when I grabbed my wallet. I’m mortified. This has to be the most embarrassing moment of my life.

I reach to take them, slowly, and I can feel the heat radiating off his hand. When I grab my panties, I feel his skin on mine, it’s our first moment of physical contact and I’ve been fantasizing about it for weeks. I look up into his eyes and our hands close around each other. Now I know he’s been thinking of it too. I don’t know how many moments pass before the tension breaks, and his mouth is pressed against mine.

Our hands clasp tighter as more surface area of our bodies come in contact. My free hand sends electric shocks straight to my pussy as it slides up his arm, his neck, brushing past his ear into the softest hair I’ve ever felt. It’s softer than down, softer than angora cashmere, and it contrasts so spectacularly with his hard passionate kisses. He pushes me up against my car, and he’s holding my face in his free hand. He keeps pulling his lips away to look into my eyes, studying me, looking for what I can’t tell but it feels incredible. I grab his waist and pull him to me, and now I can feel his hard cock pressing against the inside of my hip. I rock my hips back and forth, almost imperceptibly, trying to radiate some of my heat into him. I’m soaking wet and want him right now in this parking lot.

He slides his hand down the front of my chest, down my sides, and slows down as he moves over my hip, his fingertips just barely over the invisible line between my hip and my ass, moving towards the hem of my skirt. I know what he’s doing. He wants to know how my panties got on the floor, he wants to find out if they fell off me and his hands are searching for the answer. I let his hand slide up my skirt, his fingertips on the back of my thigh now, in an even slower, straight line towards my ass, but just as he is about to make his discovery I stop his hand. I want him to think about this later. I don’t want him to know my panties fell from my purse. I want this question in his mind forever. He stops and pulls away from our kiss to look at me again, his expression unchanged, and he waits for me to speak.

Now I have to decide what to do. I need him now, right fucking now. My panties are so soaked through that I can feel my own juices starting to run down my inner thighs. His hips are still pressed into mine and he’s just smiling at me, his hand frozen in time exactly where I stopped him. I’ve never been handed this much power before, the situation is completely in my control. I want everything, but I have to keep my secret. I’m trying to make a decision quickly, but each moment brings a pulse of my pussy followed by a shower of tingles. Pulse. Tingle. Pulse. Tingle. And we’re pressed so close together I can feel his pulses, just off beat from mine.

I can’t take it anymore, I need him; I need something. I feverishly grab at his belt, pushing and pulling on it like I don’t know what I’m doing. He starts kissing me again and somehow I know he’s dripping. I slide my back down my car until my eyes are level with his belt. I look up at him and he looks hungry, he needs me too. I pull apart his buckle, button, zipper, and when I release him from the final barrier I see that I was right, he’s dripping for me. I can’t wait to taste him and I put him in my mouth and look up in his eyes again. He’s so hard he’s trembling, and the more I lick him the more I can taste.

His pheromones are driving me crazy. I’ve never been this wet in my life. I want him to touch me so badly but I have to leave him guessing. I have to make him as crazy as I am. I try to memorize every detail of his cock by what I can feel with my tongue, I’m taking my time and making sure my tongue has touched every surface, from every angle. Now I know he is about to cum, but I’m determined not to let him. If I have to wait then so does he. I take his cock out of my mouth and as I stand up I can see it is too much for him, I’ve gotten him so close I don’t know if he’ll be able to stop. I put my left foot up on the car behind me and let my leg fall open, making room for him. I pull the left side of my skirt up, to just the point where it covers my panties, and I take his cock in my hand and rub him against my inner thigh. It’s soaking wet and he moans at first contact, and only seconds go by before I can see his cock expand and contract as his cum pours out of him and onto me. His cum is all over my leg, my skirt, my car. He stays pressed into me, smiling, sighing with heavy breaths.

Once he’s recovered he starts kissing my neck, and rubbing my hips with both hands, slightly pulling my skirt up in the process. His kisses are moving down my body and I know he wants to lick me too, but I have to stop him. I start to help him put his cock away, but as I do I notice it’s already getting hard again. Without a word I take the pen from behind his ear and write my number on his arm. Then I shove my panties in his pocket, turn him around, slap his ass and tell him to get back to work. He laughs and smiles at me before running back to the shop.

Now I have to get home. I get in my car and start driving with one hand. I can’t help but touch myself now, even though my house is only a five-minute drive away. Every detail is still fresh in my mind. I pull up to a red light, close my eyes, and imagine every nuance of his cock as I slide my fingers deeper inside. As soon as my mind lands on the image of him cumming all over my thigh I hear a symphony of horns blaring that couldn’t be more perfectly timed to my own release.