Skip to content

Drive

April 24, 2013

She was driving back from college in her dinky little car when she first saw him in the rear-view mirror. He was on a motorcycle, one of those large, “manly”-looking pieces of equipment. She saw brown hair blowing in the wind and a soft, dear face that looked like it could belong to a 16-year old. He caught her looking and before he could smile or acknowledge her in any manner, she quickly looked away.

She’d felt the heat pool in between her legs when he looked right at her. This sudden burst of arousal – it was something that didn’t happen often, but she knew the feeling well enough to try and stare it down and tell it to back off and sit quietly in its corner. It didn’t work. She chanced another quick glance in her mirror. He looked right back. She clenched her thighs together, and her panties grew damp as she creamed all over them.

He should have overtaken her car by now – that beast of a machine he was riding could surely do better than tamely putter along behind her. Anyway, the best part of her everyday commute was over – to reach her house all she had to do now was turn from the highway into a lane a few hundred feet ahead. As it drew nearer, she bit her lip and felt how her nipples scratched against her kurta. She straightened her spine and kept driving straight ahead.

Another look in her mirror and she almost groaned. How could someone with a face like a cherub arouse her so madly? She kept her right hand on the wheel and fumbled for the opening of her salwar with her left. When she found her clitoris, she realized foggily that she’d better give up any pretense of sane driving, and she found a little by-lane to her left where she swerved to a stop under a cluster of trees. A cow sleepily assessed her and she narrowed her eyes back at it. It was mid-day. They were at the outskirts of a small, small town. The roads were deserted.

She’d known he would stop too. And he did. With a growing feeling of dread and incredible lust, she waited for him to come up to her. After a minute or so (which she spent slowly dragging her finger along her inflamed sex from over her panties), she frowned back into the mirror and realized he probably wasn’t going to make the first move. “Idiot”, she thought, “Young, horny idiot”, not quite sure just who she talking about.

She clumsily fixed her dress and got out of the car. He was stopped right there, right behind her car, and she saw his cheeks were flushed red, one hand groping himself through his awesomely tight jeans. She looked pointedly at his hand, which made him pull it back like it’d been burned. She dragged her eyes up to his face and was rewarded with an even darker blush. He was delightful.

“How old are you?”, she asked him sternly, thinking, please, please don’t say 16. “N-n-nineteen”, he stammered, “I’m a junior from college”. “And why are you following me?” “I’m not! I’m just…”, she saw his thighs clench and could see him outlined against the denim he was wearing. “I think you’re so hot”, he said finally. “I… I love how you sit bent forward in the canteen. I think about the way your hips swing when you walk and I don’t even know if you do it on purpose but I think about your hips and your legs and I get so hard. You get me so hard. I know you don’t wear a bra most days. Do you think your breasts are small? I don’t. They’re… they’re not”, he finished lamely and flamed red, but kept looking straight at her.

She closed her eyes as her eyelids suddenly grew very heavy. It’s true, she did think her breasts were too small to merit any kind of confinement, plus she’d always thought her trusty dupatta would be defense enough for anyone who thought otherwise. She looked down now to see it skewed and her nipples poking obscenely through the kurta she was wearing. She reached up and rubbed one nipple with the flat of her thumb. “You’re saying I need to start wearing a bra?”. He smiled shyly. “No”, he said, “that’s not something I would ever say”. She watched as his hand went almost unthinkingly towards his crotch. “Unzip”, she said.

His fly was down faster than she thought was possible and his cock happily sprang out, almost singing with relief. He groaned and she saw him grit his teeth as he gripped himself at the base. It was a nice cock – it had a broad head and girth enough to make a girl giddy. She felt something sticky start to trickle down her leg as a sudden surge of wetness flooded her pussy. Now gently pinching her nipple, she said (in a voice she thought remarkably steady), “Stroke yourself, I want to watch you come.”

His cock twitched. He started to stroke himself then, slowly first and then in earnest. She thought her heart would stop, she’d never been this aroused before. Still looking down at him, she sucked two fingers into her mouth and imagined it was him there instead. He would be so much thicker, he’d fill her mouth so completely. She was imagining his hands in her hair and her mouth stretched around him when she heard a strangled voice say, “Please, let me see your tits”.

She looked at him. His mouth was open, his eyes half-closed. She leaned back against the car and lifted the top of her dress then, twisting her nipples, feeling them grow impossibly hard as she wet them with the fingers that had been in her mouth. His cock, she thought. My god, I want him to rub his cock all over my tits. The thought made her moan out loud and she realized she’d been rhythmically squeezing her thighs around some imaginary source of pleasure. A second later she saw his bike wobble as he gripped one handle so tight his knuckles grew pale. He came just as she realized he was about to come – he came in slow, long spurts that seemed to go on forever, that seemed as if they were being wrenched from some place deep within him. His eyes were squeezed shut and she almost cried looking at him. God, how she wanted him inside her.

When he finally stopped shuddering, she set herself to rights and – putting one foot in front of the other – walked towards him. He closed his mouth and gulped but all she did was hand him her handkerchief to help clean the (frankly delicious-looking) mess he’d made. Putting one hand on his shoulder, she reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. She lingered longer than was probably right for unmarried couples their age – but she grinned to herself and decided any lookers-on could go straight ahead and put this kiss right. in. context.

He sighed as she slowly pulled away. She smiled up at him before getting back in her car and turning it around to finally go home. She didn’t look back in her mirror this time.

lane is shady in more ways than one

Advertisements
One Comment leave one →
  1. April 27, 2013 5:55 pm

    Lady, do you know what the temperatures outside are? Have a care for poor people like us reading you in this bloody heat. Mind you, I’m not complaining that you’re back, although it looks like I am. I’m delirious you’re back, let’s put it that way, yes?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Charlotte Stein

Just another WordPress.com sexblog

The Erotica Readers & Writers Association Blog

Just another WordPress.com sexblog

Shameless Yonis

Hot N Tasty Babes Bite Back

Part-broken, Part-whole

I come here to bleed in all 26 colours of the alphabet.

Sindian Tadka

The Frustrated Indian's Politically Incorrect Sex Blog

Enjundia ~ Midnight Blue Impulses

To Him, Who Makes Me Human, Therefore Goddess. And You, Sacred By Your Witnessing.

%d bloggers like this: