We started out in the front seats, kissing and making out like teenagers. It was erotic but also an exercise in frustration. After the third banged knee against the gear shift column, I realized why people don’t fuck in cars anymore. The change in the automobile industry to move from bench seats in the front to individual bucket seats was such a detriment to getting it on in your car. Our hands roamed above waist level but our bodies could not touch. My pelvis was humping the air of its own accord, a testament to how horny I was getting and how badly I needed a finger or three in my cunt.
Finally, I looked to the back seat and said “Move back. Now.”
And out we scrambled, like a perverted Chinese Firedrill, all mussed-hair and disheveled-clothes. Ah, the back seat. Considerably better than bucket seats and gear shifts. Speaking of gear shifts, in a brief “that would be so hot” conversation in between kisses we lamented the fact that the car had the straight-up style gear shift typical of automatic transmissions rather than the curved fat shape of manuals. I think that sort would have filled my cunt and given my hips something to buck against.
We got more daring and soon clothes were a hindrance to our insistent hands. I fully believe that there is little else more delicious than the slow drawn-out saunter from second base to third base and so on.
Hands groping with thin barriers of satin or cotton adding a frisson of naughty teenage-like lust.
Lips always kissing, never parted from skin in some way.
And when hands finally dare to delve into skin-on-skin contact it is electric and heady.
We tried in vain to find a good position in the back seat to allow easy access to each others’ bodies but it wasn’t happening. We stopped, frustrated and breathless and thought. At apparently the same time we both realized that there was one more area to explore: the back cargo area of the SUV. Of course this meant that we had to get out, yet again.
“Move back….”
A quick glance around and we confirm that no one appears to be around. So I grabbed the keys and we got out. I unlocked the back – up went the window first and then the bottom half of the door. The dome light came on but a flick of its switch killed it. We had enough light from the parking lot, we didn’t want more.
But before we got into our makeshift sex cave, my hormones and need got the better of me. I lifted his tshirt over his head and quieted his protests by explaining that it would waste too much precious time and energy trying to remove clothes after we got in. He quit complaining the moment I was topless, standing outside of the car in the parking lot light. We scrambled in and closed the door behind us. He went to pull the window portion down and I stopped him. “It will get way too hot in here if we don’t leave that open”, was all it took to convince him.
So we laid in the back, limbs entwined kissing as we got comfortable with the latest stage of undress. Not only were we more exposed to each other, but the thin layer between us and the outside world was distracting. We heard the crickets and felt the warm breeze over extra-sensitive skin, and slowly relaxed against giving a shit about each car we heard drive by somewhere in the lot. Before hands resumed exploring, our bodies teased. I ground my cunt against his hip, groaning as the pressure and the friction from our underwear made me even more wet. I brought my knee up slowly, lighting pressing and rubbing my knee and leg against his hard cock that was trapped in his boxers.
Soon hands took over and we giggled as noticed that we each had a big wet spot on our underwear. Much semi-chaste rubbing commenced, teasing each other with fingers over fabric. This is the stage of getting drunk on lust. Riding a line between bliss and torture, the ache in your chest from the need for more fights with the pleasure being given that is both mental and physical. Mental in that its a game of how far can you drag it out, of extending that high-school overtone of “we shouldn’t be going this far”. This is foreplay at its best. Where each long-awaited step is so utterly satisfying.
When his fingers first slid across my slippery cunt I let out a string of lusty curse words. When my hand closed around the head of his cock he groaned loudly. Our breathing so rapid that we’d have used all the oxygen inside the car had we not left that window wide open. Speaking of that window…..we didn’t remember to stay quiet until we realized that things had gotten more noisy outside. We had been at it so long that a movie had let out. I licked his cock from base to head with a slow stroke and moans drifted out to the people getting in cars around us. I saw the tops of a few heads walk by out of the corner of my eye. As I rolled to my back to let him bite and suck my nipple my whimperings caused someone to walk by us closer; close enough that we locked eyes for a second.
I needed release, I had reached my breaking point. When the noise around us quieted down, I climbed on top of him and rubbed my cunt on his cock, my hips bucking as I teased him. I was so wet, audibly wet, that no hands were needed for his cock to slip inside of me. He snaked his hand in between our bodies and his fingertips found my clit. I was grinding my clit into his fingers with his cock buried to the hilt. I sat up enough to put one hand on the frame of the door for leverage. I felt the urgency climb and the tingles start to spread at the same time I heard car doors slamming in the distance. As my pelvis bucked furiously against him the lights from that car softly illuminated me from the shoulders up. He noticed this and used his other hand to push on my belly, push me away from him so that I was sitting up more. My skin, from tits on up, glowed now in the bright lights as the car approached. I was in a race to come before the car got to us. It was a tie. With a few jerks of my body I came violently as the car closed in and slowed down, presumably they caught sight of me. I turned my head from the blinding light as I heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires as they drove past slowly. I didn’t look, I couldn’t. But they saw and they knew what they were seeing and what remained hidden.
We laid there a while, naked and recovering on our backs, cooling down with the breeze, just softly talking and laughing. We agreed that our third date had a lot to live up to after following an act like that.
In a dream, you single me out across a ballroom and ask me to dance, and we dance a sedate two-step, and you press your palm into the small of my back so that your belly rubs mine.
