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Radio Radio

By: TexRiffraff



Out of town seminar leads to an unexpected opportunity

Author's notes: This is a work of fiction. In this fantasy, nobody is worried about STDs. In real life, all non-monogamous sex should be practiced using accepted safe-sex precautions. 

All persons involved in sexual activity are at least 18 years old.

: : : : :

Where'd everybody go?

One minute, I was chatting with an old friend and his roommates. The next minute, ghost town!

I'm Kayla. I just finished my sophomore year in college. My friends and I had lined up summer jobs at a restaurant on the coast, but I needed to take a summer class to make up for one I dropped in the fall semester. The restaurant manager only wanted to hire people who could work the whole summer, so it looked like I was going to miss out on summer at the beach. 

Then I found a seminar that awarded full credits. It was four full days, a fifth half-day, instead of three hours a day for six weeks. It looked far less strenuous than a classroom course, but more important, it was over in one week, so I wouldn't have to miss out on our summer plans. The restaurant manager said I could take that week off, as long as I arranged to have someone cover for me, and my friends said they would do that.

The seminar took place in Dallas. I thought I remembered that was where my friend Adam lived, so I emailed him. It turned out he not only lived there, he lived near the venue. Although he's a couple of years older than me, Adam and I grew up together - his family lived three doors down from mine. He is one of those great friends that a person only gets a few of - it doesn't matter how long it's been since we've seen each other, it always feels like it was yesterday. I flew in on Sunday, and he insisted on picking me up at the airport. We had dinner, and when I told him I wasn't expecting any homework, we made plans to spend evenings together.

My seminar ran until 4:00 daily. Adam worked until 4:30, and the hotel was halfway home from his job, so Monday afternoon he picked me up on his way home. We stopped by his apartment so he could change out of his work clothes for dinner. 

Adam's apartment was spectacular, three bedrooms on the third floor, on a hill overlooking a creek meandering through a park and a golf course. I met his roommates, who both seemed like great guys. We opened beers, and were discussing whether to eat out or order in, when all of a sudden, they vanished. Crickets. Tumbleweeds.

All the bedroom doors were shut, and while I didn't want to barge in on anyone, I was a bit irritated by their rudeness. From behind one of the closed doors, I heard the lonesome whine of a steel guitar. Really? Adam HATES country music. I heard three voices through the door, whispering, "We shouldn't just abandon her," "Okay, YOU explain it," and "Hopefully it'll be a quick one."

WTF?

Being careful not to creak the floor, I pressed my ear to the door. The song ended, and this is what I heard:

DJ, "This is Buddy Scott on K Country 101, and it's time for Traffic Strip. Who's on the line?"

Billy, "This is Billy."

DJ, "And who's with you Billy?"

Billy, "Kristen."

DJ, "Billy and Kristen, welcome. Kristen, do you understand the rules?"

Kristen, "Yeah."

DJ, "What are you driving, Billy?"

Billy, "A red Mustang."

DJ, "What are the last 2 digits of your license number?"

Billy, "3 7."

DJ, "Okay, listeners, we have a red Mustang, plate ends in 3 7. When you see that car, honk three times. Every time one of you honks, Kristen takes off a piece of clothing. Let's get her naked! Billy, you got all the windows down, so we can hear horns?"

Billy, "I got the TOP down."

DJ, "That'll work! Kristen, YOUR top's gonna be down in a few minutes, right?"

Kristen (squeals and laughs)

DJ, "Billy, where are you now?"

Billy, "We're on Northwest Highway, at the red light at Abrams."

DJ, "Which way are you headed?"

Billy, "West."

DJ, "All right. Listeners, heads up. It's Traffic Strip on K Country 101. If you see a red Mustang convertible, top down, license ends in 3 7, going west on Northwest Highway at Abrams, honk three times. Let's get Kristen's clothes off! We start when the light turns green."

Billy, "It just changed. We're moving."

DJ, "Billy, describe Kristen to us."

Billy, "She's real pretty, medium height, brown hair."

DJ, "Long hair?"

Billy, "I wouldn't say long, it's down to her shoulders."

DJ, "Is she slender, heavy, what?"

Billy, "She's not heavy at all, she's -"

(off mic) honk - honk - honk 

DJ, "There's three honks! That didn't take long. Kristen, what are you going to take off?"

Kristen, "Shoes."

DJ, "Alright, good placed to start. If you're wearing any socks, shoes and socks come off together."

Kristen, "Got it."

(off mic) honk - honk - honk 

DJ, "Billy, I heard three honks, but it sounded like the same horn as a minute ago."

Billy, "Yeah, it was the same car."

DJ, "Thank you, listener, we want to hurry up and get Kristen naked, too, but the rules are, only one item of clothing per car. Billy, where are you now?"

Billy, "Crossing over highway 75."

DJ, "Listeners, this is your opportunity. Red Mustang convertible, tag ending 3 7, going west on Northwest Highway, just crossed 75. Billy, back to Kristen. She have a good figure?"

Billy, "I think so. She always wears kind of baggy clothes, though, so I'm not positive."

DJ, "Well, you're about to find out. She's not your girlfriend?"

Billy, "No, just a friend."

DJ, "Neighbor, work?"

Billy, "Work, but we also live near each other. We ride in together most days."

DJ, "Where are you now?"

Billy, "At a red light at Hillcrest."

DJ, "All right, listeners, here's your chance. It's Traffic Strip on K Country 101. You're looking for a red Mustang convertible, license tag ends in 3 7, going west on Northwest Highway at Hillcrest. When you see it, give us three quick honks. We've already got Kristin's shoes off, let's get her out of the rest of those uncomfortable clothes!"

Billy, "Light's green, we're moving."

DJ, "Let's have you turn right when you get to Preston. What's Kristen wearing?"

Billy, "She's got on a long-sleeve shirt -"

DJ, "Button-up, or pullover?"

Billy, "Button-up. It's plaid, blue and white, with some green and purple."

DJ, "Is it sexy?"

Billy, "It's nice."

DJ, chuckling, "Oh, okay, NOT sexy."

Billy, laughing, "I didn't say -"

(off mic) honk - honk - honk

DJ, "There's another honk, this one sounded different."

Billy, "Yeah, it was."

DJ, "Kristen, what are you -"

Billy, "She's taking off her jeans."

DJ, "Wow, jeans and a man's shirt. You're really out too impress, aren't you Kristen? Billy, at least are her undies sexy?"

Billy, "I dunno, her shirt's covering them."

DJ, "Kristen, lift up your shirt for Billy-"

Kristen, laughing, "You just drive, Billy, don't wreck your Mustang."

DJ, "Okay, okay, he's going to see them soon enough. Billy, that man's shirt, does she have it buttoned all the way to the top?"

Billy, laughing, "No, the top buttons are open, two or three of 'em. Oh, nice! She undid the next one, she's holding the neck open for me."

DJ, "She have nice cleavage?"

Billy, "Yeah. Real nice."

DJ, "Where are you now?"

Billy, "We just pulled up to the light at Preston, we're in front. I'll turn right as soon as there's a gap."

DJ, "How heavy is traffic?"

Billy, "It's heavy, lots of cars. Okay, there's a gap, I'm going."

DJ, "All right, good, lots of NEW cars around you now. Any of them K Country 101 listeners? It's Traffic Strip, and you're looking for a red Mustang convertible, top down, license ends in 3 7, going north on Preston at Northwest Highway. If you -"

(off mic) honk - honk - honk beep - beep - beep 

DJ, "Billy, we just heard two different honks, didn't we?"

Billy, "Yeah, two different cars."

DJ, "Kristen?"

Kristen (squeals)

DJ, "Kristen, what are you taking off first?"

Kristen, "My shirt."

DJ, "Billy, tell us what you see."

Billy, "She's undoing the buttons, kind of slow. Got a couple more, okay, there's the last one. All right, she's pulling her arm out of one sleeve, now the other one, now it's off. She's wadding up the shirt in her lap."

DJ, "She have on sexy panties, Billy?"

Billy, "I don't know, she's covering them with her shirt."

DJ, "Kristen, where are your shoes and jeans?"

Kristen, "I threw them in the back seat."

DJ, "Then that's where your shirt goes."

Kristen (squeals)

DJ, "Billy, describe her undies."

Billy, "They're real nice, black, with some red sewing on them."

DJ, "Do they match her bra?"

Billy, "Yeah, they're the same. Those Victoria's Secret, Kristen?"

Kristen, laughing, "You just drive, Billy."

DJ, "Now tell us about her figure, Billy."

Billy, "Her legs are real pretty, nice and long, her hips have a nice curve. Her tummy is pretty flat, it has a couple of tiny rolls -"

Kristen, "Billy!"

Billy, "- that's cuz she's sitting down, I bet it's nice and flat when she's standing. And her, her, um, I'm not sure what I'm allowed to say..."

DJ, "Her bosom?"

Billy, "Her bosom, yeah, her bosom is nice. Bigger'n I expected."

DJ, "Speaking of her chest... Kristen, we heard two honks back there, and you've only taken one item off. What are you going to take off now?"

Kristen, "My bra."

DJ, "Billy, you're our eyes, tell us what you see."

Billy, "She's reaching behind her back. Okay, she undid it, now she's pulling the straps off her shoulders, but she's holding it in place in the front."

DJ, "Don't keep us in suspense, Kristen."

Billy, "Okay, she tossed it in the back seat."

DJ, "How's the view, Billy?"

Billy, "She's covering them with her hands. Now she put her hands down. Damn... they're nice."

DJ, "Careful with your language, Billy, we're on the radio."

Billy, "Sorry. I've never seen her, um, her chest before."

DJ, "Billy, what are we looking at here, grapefruits, oranges, lemons, or fried eggs?"

Billy, "Oh, lemons, I'd say."

Kristen, "Billy!"

Billy, "Large lemons. Maybe small oranges. Yeah, okay, small oranges."

DJ, "They sag any?"

Kristen, "Don't answer that, Billy."

Billy, "No, no sag, nice and firm."

Kristen, "Good answer."

DJ, "Now Billy, there's a lot of words we can't say on the radio, but we can say areolae, how are the areolae?"

Billy, "Big. Big arrolia, arreolluh, aireoley, however you say it. Big and pink. Nice!"

DJ, "You're listening to K Country 101, and this is Traffic Strip. Listeners, we only need one more honk. We've got Billy and Kristen, in a red Mustang, top down, license plate ending in 3 7, going north on Preston. Where on Preston are you now, Billy?"

Billy, "We just hit the red light at Forest."

DJ, "I bet there's a lot of traffic there this time of day."

Billy, "Oh yeah, it's crowded."

DJ, "Kristen, are there a lot of cars around you?"

Kristen, "Yeah, a lot."

DJ, "I wonder how many of them can see down into Billy's car, with the top down, and all."

Kristen, "I don't wanna think about it."

DJ, "I bet you don't. Billy, how's she handling it?"

Billy, "She's all slumped down in the seat."

DJ, "She's not covering herself, is she?"

Billy, "No, she's just sitting as low as she can."

DJ, "How's the view from the driver's seat?"

Billy, "S-w-e-e-e-e-e-e-t!"

DJ, "How about it, listeners, anybody got eyes on that red Mustang? We only need one more honk."

Billy, "The light turned, we're rolling. We're coming up on -"

(off mic) honk - honk - honk 

Kristen (shrieks)

DJ, "So, Kristen, obviously you know what that means. Billy, what do you see?"

Billy, "She's covering her face with her hands. Okay, now she's reaching for her undies. She's pulling them down, she's lifting her butt up off the seat so she can slide them off. She's got them down to her knees, now she's leaning forward, she's pulling them down her lower legs, now she's stepping out of them. They're off!"

DJ, "Kristen, one last thing..."

Kristen, "I remember."

Billy, "She's holding them up in the air, twirling them around."

DJ, "Good job, Kristen. Billy?"

Billy, "Yeah?"

DJ, "Tell us, Billy, is she a 'natural brunette?'"

Billy, "I can't tell."

DJ, "Straighten up, Kristen, no hiding the good parts."

Billy, "No, it's not that, she's, she's, I'm not sure what I can say here."

DJ, "You can say 'shaved,' Billy."

Billy, "Okay, she's shaved."

DJ, laughing, "Good to know. Kristen, you're almost done."

Kristen, "Almost?"

DJ, "To finish Traffic Strip and be entered in a drawing for the grand prize, that's $10,000, you must either ride all the way home, or for fifteen more minutes, whichever comes first, before you put your clothes back on. 

"That's Traffic Strip for today, be sure to join us for another episode of Traffic Strip, every weekday afternoon, here on K Country 101. I'll be staying on the line with Billy and Kristen to be sure they qualify. Here's the latest from Brad Paisley, on K Country 101."

Adam and the guys opened the door, and found me standing there, arms folded, tapping my foot.

Looking sheepish, Adam said, "Oh, hi."

It took me all of dinner to convince them that, one, just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm some naïve, delicate little flower who would wither away if I learned that there were such things as "nudity" and "sex," and two, I was not even slightly offended by Traffic Strip.

Actually, I was much more than merely "not offended." I was enthralled. I was captivated. I was so jealous of Kristen. My college friends and I - both genders - have been to a nude beach twice, skinny dipped in several pools, and been to a couple of parties where many of us ended up dancing naked. The girls and I stripped at a bar (ON the bar) once, and sunned topless on the dorm roof several times this spring - nude a couple of times. 

When I met them two years ago, my friends were far more adventurous than I was. I didn't feel bold enough to take my clothes off in front of other people, but I did it because I didn't want to be the only one who didn't. It turned out, to my surprise, that I find being naked in public quite a thrill. I love it. Even though there was no way I'd get to be on Traffic Strip in my short stay here, all I could think about as I fell asleep that night was how much fun it would be if I could.

We listened together on Tuesday. It was Larry and Cindy, in a Ram SUV. She was his girlfriend, a blonde who sounded like she was not so slender. Buddy Scott teased them because they wouldn't say if Cindy was a "natural" blonde. She had what Larry called, "Big freakin grapefruits," which he said sagged quite a bit. When they got the final honk, he revealed that while she had been a true blonde as a little girl, her actual color now was medium brown, which she lightened, "On her head, that is. Not down there in the wild and woolly jungle." Cindy didn't sound happy about that description. 

I looked up K Country 101 on the web, and found that the station was in a hi-rise office building near the hotel - about a ten minute walk. Wednesday at lunch, I paid them a visit. It was surprisingly low-key - radio stations always paint pictures of being beehives of excitement, but it wasn't anything like that. There was a single open area, not very large, with a receptionist and two other people sitting at desks, all wearing jeans and concert t-shirts, very laid back. There was a door marked "Announce" with a red light labelled "On Air." I asked for the station manager, and he was one of the t-shirt guys. 

"Unfortunately," he said as he blatantly checked me out from head to toe, "Traffic Strip is booked a month in advance. I'd like to help you out, but since you're leaving Saturday, I can't really do anything for you." I walked back to the hotel in time for my next session.

Wednesday's Traffic Strip was Michael and Becky, who were acquaintances, not boyfriend and girlfriend. Becky was the lead singer of a local dance band, and sounded like a freaking bikini model - slender, oranges, natural blonde. 

Over dinner, we discussed whether doing something as sexually-charged as Traffic Strip would lead to sex for a non-couple. Adam thought it would, and one of his roommates agreed, saying, "No way could you do something that hot and not end up fucking like bunnies."

I said, "I'm not sure about that. The guys all want to, I'm sure, and probably some of the girls, but I think there's many ladies who would not find it arousing." Adam's other roommate agreed with me. He said, "I dated a stripper for a few months. She said that guys don't understand that being naked doesn't always feel sensual."

Thursday, it was Gary and Shiela, a married couple, in a Mini. She was petite, a curly brunette. Gary admitted she had fried eggs, which Shiela said "go well with a little sausage." Gary said he had no idea what she meant by that. He was surprised to see that she had shaved for the occasion. 

The guys told me I was lucky, this had been a good week. In an average week, they said, one of the ladies will lock up and not strip - sometimes not even take off her shoes, although usually it's when it's time for her bra that she freezes. Occasionally, she'll get topless but refuse to lose her panties.

Friday morning, almost 9:00, my first session was winding down. My cell phone rang, showing a local number. Ignoring the scowl from the session leader, I ducked out in the foyer and took the call. A minute later, I called Adam at work on his cell.

"Can you take the afternoon off?"

"I don't know. Why would I want to?" Adam can be rather prickly when he's irritated.

"I need you to pick me up here at the hotel by 2:45."

"Why 2:45?"

"We have to be at K Country 101 by 3:00 to sign some papers."

"What papers?"

"Release forms."

Silence.

"IF you can get off work, we're going to be on Traffic Strip."

Dead silence.

"Adam?"

"Very funny, Kayla. I happen to know they book Traffic Strip weeks in advance."

"They had a cancellation - the station manager just called me. Somebody had a death in the family or something. I need to know - if I don't call him back in 15 minutes, he'll call someone else."

"Seriously?"

This time, it was me that didn't say anything.

"See you at 2:45." Click.

: : : : :

DJ, "This is Buddy Scott on K Country 101. And it's time for Traffic Strip. Who's on the line?"

Adam, "This is Adam."

DJ, "And who's with you Adam?"

Adam, "Kayla."

DJ, "Adam and Kayla, welcome. Kayla, do you understand the rules?"

Kayla, "Yup, all clear."

DJ, "Great. Adam, what are you driving?"

Adam, "I borrowed my roommate's '66 Chevelle."

DJ, "Nice ride! Stock?"

Adam, "No. Rims, disk brakes, stereo, big motor, little bit of lift in the back."

DJ, "What color?"

Adam, "Two tone, yellow and white. License plate ends in 9 2."

DJ, "You're answering questions before I ask them - you must be a regular listener, Adam."

Adam, "Every day."

DJ, "Love that. You see any other hot rod Chevelles out there?"

Adam, "Not any yellow ones."

DJ, laughing, "Then I don't think we'll need the license tag today, I'd say you're distinctive enough. You got all the windows down, so we can hear horns?"

Adam, "You got it, front and back. We're at a red light at Marsh and Valley View, headed north."

DJ, "Alright. Listeners, this is Traffic Strip on K Country 101. We've got Adam and Kayla in a '66 Chevelle, yellow and white two-tone. They're on Marsh at Valley View, heading north. Your job is to find them, and honk three times. Every time we hear honks, Kayla takes off an item of clothing. Anybody in that area, help us out. Let's get Kayla out of those uncomfortable clothes. Right, Kayla?"

Somehow managing not to sound terrified, I said, "Right on!"


Radio/Radio/Radio



Note: This is simply the first completed sex scene of a story I'm writing on another site. I edited it to just have the raunchy man on man action to put up here, for no other reason than I'd like to contribute to erotic literature. 

.

Being this close to him is making me want to pull his (and mine) pants off to make this a real party, but I doubt doing that in a moving vehicle is a very appropriate thing to do, considering safety and all that shit about not dying. So that's where we are at the current moment. You know, in his car. Well, more specifically driving on the back roads, but that extra amount of information seems pointless now.

The short car ride to James' apartment is not so surprisingly filled with nothing but the sound of the radio. Oh, that and a good amount of sexual tension on both our parts. It would seem my nervousness and mental instability from before is also completely forgotten once he starts fondling my junk with one hand, the other resting safely on the steering wheel.

I'm happy enough to return the favor though. With his hands fully on the wheel this time, it's my turn to grope him a little; I rub his leg in the way that I know makes me squirm, and then when I get my mouth close to his ear, warm air blows in and I can see, feel him under my palm, getting existed like I want him to. Come to think of it, maybe that was a bad idea; he doesn't seem to want to wait anymore to have me fully.

That's indeed how we find ourselves stopping on the side of a quiet road in the middle of the night. 

He takes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and facing me with the loveliest set of wide bright eyes, filled to the brim with the darkest tint of lust. I must assume that my own are the same, because as soon as mine lock to his, it seems as though an open invitation has been sent out for him to ravish me right then and there. Not that I mind of course; his taste on my lips is one that I rather enjoy. 

He grinds his angular hips into mine, making me catch my breath. He wants me, this, here, now, just like I do, but as horny as I am, my need to tease forces me to hover over his luscious lips and lazily whisper into them, my fingers in his hair, almost painfully pulling the strands to tilt his head back to have him under my own touch, to better manipulate and to control.

''In the car, hon? I didn't know you needed it that bad.''

''I've been dying to have you all night babe. The way you dance had me all hot and bothered in the club you know.''

''That's good love, but I'm sure you can do better. Come one, turn me on.''

''How's 'I want to fuck you until you're so raw than you can't walk for days. And when you do manage to get yourself standing, that you still feel me inside you'?''

''Much better, thanks.''

And we're back to sucking each other's face off. As things heat up and it's clear that light touches alone cannot quench our rising thirst for one another, James goes to turn the car off and I'm guessing the stereo along with it, but I won't have any of that. I like the background noise; it's just like the beat in the club.

''Leave it on.''

He does, after I tell him I quite enjoy music, any, during a good fuck. Fiddling with the radio, he finally settles for a random station of pop music. Good, because all I really want is his body back on mine. I don't recognize the song but the gently humming of the engine, or what I assume to be so, feels simply divine beneath my bones. So what if we're wasting gas and energy for a quick moment of divine pleasure?

And then he makes quite an erotic scene of sinking to his knees on the, what I assume to be mostly dirty, car floor, but I doubt he gives a fuck at the moment, because he goes straight for his prize; as he zips me down with his teeth. 

Thankfully, I remember quickly enough that he likes to be in control when he gives head and so I try with all my strength not to gag him. But truth be told, with his hot wet mouth on me like this, I don't think I can resist for long before griping a fist full of his luscious dark hair and using him for my own twisted desire, forcing him to take me as deep as his gag reflex with allow and beyond. 

He twirls his tongue around the head a bit and then proceeds to dip it in the slit, already dripping with pre cum. My breathing is labored, my head thrown back, and all I can do is moan at the top of my lungs. One goes even a little too high pitch for my own taste, but James seems to like it, because the chuckling from the back his throat sends me to a whole new world of pleasure. 

Sadly, he gets off of me with an audible and charming 'pop' before he can finish what he started. Yup, he just wanted me completely hard for what's next, not that I'm complaining.

He comes back up for a little more spit swapping it would seem, and knowing where his mouth was just mere moments ago makes me even hotter. He retreats soon enough, though a thin trail of saliva still lingers between us, a clear reminder of just how badly we both crave the contact of the other. 

His thumb grazes my lips teasingly; a gesture that sends sparks of desire down my spine. He wants me to open up, so I do just that. His index darts in, soon to be slicked with my saliva and then middle and ring finger follow one at a time, getting the same treatment. 

Content with my finger coating abilities, he slides down to the floor again, with all his best intentions clearly on display, gaze linked to mine. Yeah, there it is, the light tap at my entrance, and I can't help but open up my legs a little more to grant him access, because fuck, this is the first step to what we both really are here for. 

He goes straight back to nudging until he gets one in, then another and then the third and I think that that's all he can take before he explodes in his pants, tight as they are, his dick just begging to be release from its denim confinement, I'm sure.

With expert hands, he does. It's lovely you know. Just big enough, just long enough to not be uncomfortable. The right size to make you moan and cum from the friction on the prostate of its penetration alone, a talent I've manage to grasp after some well wasted time of exuberated practice. Well, that's only because I'm very demanding when it comes to finding the right angle.

He's on me again, his lean body pressing me all the way down in the passenger seat, eager for what is about to unfold, but I've got other plans. 

I gently push him back down in the driver's seat, which is funny, because I'm actually the one in control here. Somehow, my clouded lustful mind finds a way to push the seat back for more room and a better access to his body. I spit in my hand; his dick warm to the touch and gorged with desire, as I prepare his willing invasion of me. 

''I want to ride you.'' 

He only nods, too turned on to answer it would seem, but like I need his permission anyway.

I lower myself onto his rigid member, one hand on his chest, the other guiding him into me. The burn is wonderful, but what can you expect with only spit as lube. It may be hot as hell, but there's always a little more pain. In addition, our half clothed bodies speak volume about the way we need it: fast and hard. 

Now he's fully in, and he's smart enough to let me time to adjust to the intrusion. He feels so good inside me, so warm and pulsing with the arousal of a man yet to be satisfied, and I like the fact that I'm the only one in the position to do so.

I wiggle myself up and down a little to take the sting off, but fuck; I think I'm ready to go now. With both hands on his chest, holding the weight of me because I want to be able to admire the lust in his eyes, and I want him to see the need in mine. I am only slightly surprised as he starts bucking against me and the newly found friction on my prostate makes me thoroughly thankful for this turn of events. 

We seem to have developed quite a rhythm. The car is filled with the sounds of us; the smacking of heated skin against skin and the rawness of guttural moans mesh together quite well in such close quarters it would seem.

This is how I like it; cramped and so god damn hot. In this moment, all I see, feel, hear is him. I doubt there's anywhere he looks better than on his back. Only in sex can you feel this close to someone, because love can be faked, but not so much physical desire. 

I can help but to drag my short nails all the way across his chess to reach his navel after an especially hard thrust and I am quite pleased with myself, because I can already see that it's going to leave a mark on his strong body. If he didn't know that he was mine before, he will surely get the point when I'm done with him tonight. 

From my new position, sitting straighter on top of him than before and looking down, with my hands now caressing his strong abs, the angle of penetration is much deeper. It makes me go wild; riding harder, wanting completion from this act. He's close too, I can tell in the way he tightens the claw like grip he already has on my hips. So maybe I like the pain a little, sue me.

My orgasm takes me a little by surprise though. I didn't even notice when he started pumping my erection. Hands-off is more my thing, but no matter, his hands on me were wonderful all the same. The rhythm picks up again, a tad gentler that before, as to not disturb my temporarily spent form, but not for long, because he releases in me soon after, my convulsing canals having egged him on when my half limp body was completely against his own.

Our second go is much smoother, after a small recovery period filled with gentle caresses, what with his cum as lubrication and all, but that's just fine with me. The slow pace and deeper trusting does not take away from the urgencies of the moment. In fact, the passion is only intensified, as the radiant heat of time well spent lingers in the form of slowly dripping sweat and clammy tangled limbs, and pleasure that cannot be worded, but instead grunted as the sole part of a mismatched whole.

Then the moment of clear oblivion comes again, though none the least less appreciated then the first. Muscles constrict, a deep jolt from within, begging for release, as breath becomes heavy, panting in anticipation, ready to take the fall. And all the effort is finally paid off, not that the road wasn't paved with delight as well: tingling and white hot fire behind closed eyelids.

I kiss him a final time before clumsily rolling off and back to my seat. We take a moment to compose ourselves and clean crevices in any way possible before taking back to the road. The literal bumps along the way remind me of what we've just done and I smile in spite of the pain. My grin widens when James turns to me and tells me that the mess of cum staining his beloved car now was totally worth it. We will see if he still feels that way tomorrow, when he's scrubbing the black leather seats to take off the specks of crusted white pigments.

We stumble into his apartment, giggling and still happy from the lingering contact high of sex, because what could ever be more of a feel good drug than sexual gratification? Oh dear, in the heat of the moment, that last part may have come out as a question, but trust me, getting fucked sideways always takes the edge off.

.

A.N: Thanks for reading.



Radio Radio



DJ, "We'll start when the light turns green. Adam, is Kayla a looker?"

Adam, "She is, she's pretty dang hot. She's wearing some little shorts and a short t-shirt, it doesn't cover her tummy. She's not leaving much to the imagination."

DJ, "Her shorts, are they sexy?"

Adam, "Yeah, VERY sexy. I think they're called 'Daisy Dukes.'"

DJ, "What color is her hair?"

Adam, "I'd call it dark blonde, long-ish, past her shoulders. And, no, I don't know if it's 'natural.'"

DJ, "So she's not your girlfriend."

Adam, "No, we're friends from the old neighborhood, back to the second grade. All right, we're off, the light turned, and we're rolling."

(off mic) honk - honk - honk

I wasn't expecting the first honk to come so soon. Even though I was thrilled to be doing this, I was hoping for a little extra time. Ready or not, I guess I'm going to do this crazy thing.

DJ, "There's our first honk. Kayla, what are you taking off?"

Kayla, "My shoes, Buddy."

I managed to get them off despite trembling terribly. Adam didn't seem to notice.

DJ, "Describe Kayla to us, Adam."

Adam, "She's slender, has a great figure. I'm kind of an as-, um, well, I was about to say something I'm not supposed to on the radio. I'm kind of a hips man-"

DJ, "I think we get your drift, Adam. How are those hips?"

Adam, "Really nice, I'm looking forward to getting a better view in a few minutes."

I barked "Adam!" at him, and he looked embarrassed.

Adam, "Sorry, Kayla. Buddy, we're coming up to Belt Line Rd., I'm going to turn right. Okay, we're turning."

(off mic) honk - honk - honk

DJ, "There's our next honk, thank you listener. Kayla, what are you taking off?"

Kayla, "My shirt, Buddy."

DJ, "Tell us what you see, Adam."

Adam, "She's lifting up her little shirt, pulling it over her head."

DJ, "She have on a sexy bra?"

Adam, "Oh, wow, she's not wearing a bra, she has on a tight little tank-top. Wow, Kayla, look at you!"

My nipples were on full display, so hard they looked like they were going to slice through the fabric.

DJ, "This is K Country 101 and you're listening-"

(off mic) honk - honk - honk

DJ, "I heard that. Adam, just to confirm, that was a different car than a minute ago, right?"

Adam, "Yes, it was, Buddy."

DJ, "Good. Thank you, listener. Kayla, what are you taking off next?"

Kayla, "My shorts."

Adam didn't know it yet, but this was the moment of truth. I was so nervous, time slowed to a crawl. I took a deep breath, and in ultra-slow motion, popped the snap, lowered the zipper, and lifted my hips. I wiggled the shorts off my hips, down my thighs, over my knees, all the way to the floorboards. Adam then got to see my little secret - I was commando. His eyes almost bugged out of his head.

Adam, "Holy schnikey... um, I mean-"

I held my finger to my lips in the universal "shhh" symbol. The moment felt unreal, my skin glowed so hard it felt nuclear. I reached into my purse and pulled out a thong, draping it over my thigh so Adam could see it.

DJ, "What'd you say, Adam?"

Adam, "Oh, uh, she's got on the tiniest little thong I've ever seen. It's, um, I mean, wow."

DJ, "Describe it to-"

Adam, (interrupting) "Um, Buddy, we have a problem."

DJ, "What is-"

Adam, "A police car just pulled in behind us."

DJ, "Okay, just stay cool. Is he pulling you over?"

Adam, "No, not yet."

I couldn't think of any way to get my shorts back on without looking like I was doing something suspicious, so I sat there, naked from the waist down.

DJ, "You both have your seat belts on?"

Adam, "Yes."

DJ, "And Kayla has on a top and a bottom, right?"

Adam glanced at me, panicked. I nodded at him. He didn't answer, so I did.

Kayla, "That's right, Buddy."

DJ, "Okay, then no one's doing anything illegal. Listeners, if you see Adam and Kayla, hold off honking for now. You're in the right lane, approaching Midway, right?"

Adam, "Yes."

DJ, "Let's have you turn right on Midway."

Adam, "Okay. I'm turning. Crap, he's following us."

DJ, "No worry-"

Adam, "Easy for YOU to say!"

DJ, "What do you see to your right?"

Adam, "A liquor store, a restaurant, and a cell-phone store."

DJ, "Okay, everything's cool. Pass the liquor store, but turn into the phone store."

Adam, "Alright, I'm signaling, slowing, and turning in."

He was silent for a few seconds.

DJ, "What's happening, Adam?"

Adam, "He, he didn't turn in behind us. He's gone."

DJ, "Alright, we're good."

Adam, "Just give me a second."

DJ, "Sure, Adam, no problem. How's traffic on Midway?"

Adam, "Light."

DJ, "Then it'll be easy to turn left back onto Midway - let's have you do that. You ready?"

Adam, "Let's do it. Okay, pulling out, left on Midway."

DJ, "Then turn right back onto Belt Line. Listeners, this is Buddy Scott on K Country 101, and you're listening to Traffic Strip. Today we have Adam and Kayla, and it couldn't be easier to spot them - they're in a yellow and white '66 Chevelle hot rod, turning east onto Belt Line at Midway. When you see 'em, let's hear you honk three times. We only need two more honks to finish getting Kayla down to her birthday suit. Adam, you were going to describe Kayla's thong."

Adam, "Oh, yeah, it's, um, it's..."

I held it out for him to see, but my hand wasn't where he was looking. I closed my knees, to hide what was distracting him - he told me later he had never seen a shaved one in person before. I shook my thong to recapture his attention.

Adam, "Yeah, her thong, it's white, lacy..."

DJ, "Is it the kind of lace you can see through?"

Adam, "Yeah, you can. Whew! It's a tiny strip, two or three inches wide in the front, max. The strings are also lace, maybe half an inch-"

(off mic) honk - honk - honk

DJ, "Thank you listener. Kayla, that was another honk. What are you taking off?"

Kayla, "I'm wearing a tank-top instead of a bra, so I'll take that off."

I took a deep breath. I was thrilled, and I was terrified.

DJ, "Adam, tell us what you see."

Adam, "She's crossing her arms, she's taking the bottom of the shirt, she's lifting it, it's hanging on her, um, her, um..."

DJ, "Her chest, Adam?"

Adam, "Yeah, her chest. Okay, now she's pulling it over her head, only from the back. It's off, in the back, but still covering things in the front. She's pulling her arm out of it, now the other one, but she's still holding the dang shirt in front... s-w-e-e-e-e-e-t, she dropped it on the floor. Damn, Kayla, those are NICE!"

DJ, "Language, Adam, we're on the radio."

Adam, "Yeah, sorry, forgot there for a second."

I shimmied for him, watching his eyes track the wiggling.

Buddy Scott and the radio audience were picturing me topless, but Adam knew I was already naked. My mind was spinning - Traffic Strip was far more public than anything I'd ever done before. Adam had the silliest grin on his face. He and I were both brought back to the here and now by Buddy Scott.

DJ, "So what do we have there, Adam, grapefruit, oranges, lemons, or fried eggs?"

Adam, "Oh, oranges for sure. Definitely oranges. And the areolae, they're nice and pink, a little bigger than quarters. Um, the other parts, let's just say that she seems to be a bit chilly."

DJ, "Any sag there, Adam?"

Adam, "Oh hel- I mean, no, not at all."

That's me, everybody, having my naked breasts described to thousands of people on the radio!

DJ, "You're listening to Traffic Strip here on K Country 101. We have Adam and Kayla, in a yellow and white hot rod Chevelle, going east on Belt Line Road. Adam, where are you on Belt Line?"

Adam, "We just pulled up to a red light at Inwood."

DJ, "We haven't had a honk in a while, we need to get you surrounded by different cars. Let's have you take a right on Inwood."

Adam, "Not much traffic on this part of Inwood."

DJ, "You want to get that last honk, don't you Adam. Yeah, I guess you do. Kayla, why do you think that is?"

Kayla, "I think it's pretty obvious, Buddy."

Adam, "Okay, I'm turning on Inwood."

DJ, "Go ahead and turn into that strip center there on the right, and circle back through the parking lot to where you can get back on Belt Line."

Adam, "Okay, I'm there, but it'll be a minute before I can pull out, traffic's backed up from the light."

DJ, "Listeners, this is Traffic Strip, on K Country 101. We're riding with Adam and Kayla, they're in a '66 Chevelle, yellow and white, pulling out of a parking lot onto Belt Line, eastbound, at Inwood. Who's going to be our hero and honk three times - we only need one more. Adam, tell us more about Kayla. She have any tattoos?"

Adam, "None that I can see."

I nodded in agreement.

DJ, "How about tan lines?"

I stretched my thong across my hips, to remind Adam that as far as Buddy Scott and the audience knew, I hadn't taken it off yet. He nodded.

Adam, "Let's see, I don't see any tan line around her hips, but maybe they're hidden by her thong. She has some faint triangles on her, um..."

DJ, "Bosom?"

Adam, "Yeah, her bosom, but they're barely there, and I don't see any strap lines."

DJ, "So Kayla, it seems like you must sunbathe 'au naturale' most of the time."

Kayla, "That's for me to know, Buddy."

Adam, "Okay, someone's letting me in, we're-"

(off mic) honk - honk - honk

DJ, "All right, that's the one we've been waiting for. Kayla-"

Kayla, "I know, I know, off they come."

Adam, "That was the car that let us in, he must be listening."

DJ, "Thanks listener, you're our hero. Adam, tell us what you're seeing."

To give Adam something to describe, I pantomimed taking off my thong. Somehow, pretending made me feel more naked.

Adam, "She's raising her hips. Oooh, I hit a little bump, it made her chest bounce - very sexy. Okay, she's sliding her thong down her legs."

DJ, "How do those legs look, Adam?"

Adam, "Smooth as silk, Buddy. VERY nice. Somehow she looks firm AND soft. She's gotten her thong past her knees, now she just dropped it to the floor."

DJ, "Now you can tell us, Adam, is she a natural blonde?"

Adam, "Can't tell, Buddy, she shaves. Okay, now she's holding her thong out the window, twirling it around."

DJ, "You ARE a regular listener, aren't you, Adam?"

Kayla, "I am, too, Buddy!"

DJ, "Glad to hear it. That's Traffic Strip for today - thanks to Adam and Kayla for having us along for the ride. To finish Traffic Strip and be eligible for the $10,000 grand prize drawing, they'll keep driving - either all the way home, or for fifteen more minutes, whichever comes first. THEN Kayla can put her clothes back on. I'll stay on the line with them to be sure they qualify. Be sure to join us for another episode of Traffic Strip, every weekday afternoon. Here's a golden oldie from Waylon Jennings, on K Country 101."

We heard the opening strains of the song, then some clicks and buzzes, then Buddy Scott, sounding nearer and less processed. "Good job, guys."

Adam said, "That was close, with the cop."

Buddy said, "Not really. We get pulled over once or twice a month, but no one's ever gotten arrested."

Adam said, "Good to know, but have any of the girls been topless or naked?"

Buddy said, "About half. The most recent, the on-air part was over, and they were driving home. The cop had no intention of arresting them, he just wanted a closer look."

They carried on talking. I tuned them out to enjoy the moment - riding naked, through a major metropolitan rush hour, in an attention-getting hot rod. Warm wind blew through the open windows, tantalizing all my exposed naughty bits.

Adam asked, "Would you rather that I took a less crowded route home?"

"Nah," I said, "I'm fine."

"Atta girl," Buddy Scott said. I had forgotten we were still connected to him.

We pulled into Adam's apartment complex right as Buddy Scott said, "Okay, time! It's been fifteen minutes. You're now entered in the grand prize drawing. I'd like to ask you one thing, though. It's not an official part of the contest. Adam, would you take a shot of Kayla on your cell phone, and text it to me?"

I posed, let's just say in a way that Buddy could tell I was shaved, and Adam did just that. 

"Damn, you weren't kidding," Buddy Scott said, "she IS hot." It occurred to me that the photo remained on Adam's phone, but I didn't make him delete it. Buddy continued, "Thank you both. Adam, again, good job, and Kayla, thank you, lady, you're wonderful."

"You're welcome, Buddy, it's been fun." He disconnected.

We drove past the clubhouse, toward Adam's building. "Do you want me to stop so you can get dressed?"

"What?" I said. "And have your roommates say that the whole thing was play-acting? Not a chance - drive on."

We rounded the corner at his building, and there were fifteen or twenty guys waiting. When they saw the car, they started cheering and applauding.

"Oh yeah," Adam said, "I might have forgotten to mention, we told the neighbors - everybody listened."

The crowd parted, and Adam slotted the car in its midst. Guys were banging on the hood, the roof, the trunk, the fenders. My instinctive urge was to curl up and cover everything, but I suppressed that. I stepped out of the car and struck a "stick the landing" pose: hands up in the air, back arched, chest out, feet shoulder-width apart. The applause and cheers were thunderous. 

I circled the car, giving every guy a high five. Guys slapped me on the back, several slapped my butt, and a couple groped my boobs - I swatted their hands away.

I couldn't help noticing how many of the guys' pants were tented. That got me thinking about poor Adam, and the state he must be in. I had noticed repeatedly in the car how tightly his boner strained against his pants. He must have felt like he had been hard forever. I've never considered Adam sexually, but while I didn't want him to think it was the start of anything, I wanted to "reward" him for taking the afternoon off and driving me, and I didn't think that merely getting to see me naked was enough of a prize. When I got back around to him, I whispered in his ear, "How long have you been hard?"

: : : : : Adam's point of view : : : : :

She totally surprised me. Was that actually sweet, innocent little Kayla from down the block asking me that? I grinned, and said, "Since that cop passed us." 

She gave me a skeptical look, and said, "Just since then?"

"Actually, since you took off your shoes, and I knew you were actually going to do this. Extra hard since I found out you were commando."

She rubbed the tent in my shorts, licked her lips, and said, "You need some relief, big boy."

I agreed, but what she did next amazed me. She sunk to her knees, lowered the zipper on my shorts, and tugged them to the ground. All the guys cheered.

My cock was already poking out of my boxers, but I guess she wanted better access, she pulled them to the ground, too. I couldn't believe it - was she really going to blow me here in front of everybody?

The soft, moist warmth of her mouth, surrounding the tip of my cock, answered that. She sucked hard, and while she did some sort of swirling with her mouth, she drew me in deeper and deeper. She started slow, pulling off me, drawing me back in, and gradually sped up, sucking heavily and continuing the maddeningly sexy swirling with her tongue. I was in heaven. My whole world consisted of my dick and her mouth - I forgot about the crowd surrounding us.

After driving her through rush hour traffic while she took her clothes off, revealing one of the finest naked bodies I had ever seen, and now with her on her knees in the parking lot, sucking my dick while dozens of my closest friends watched, it took me no time to cum. I warned her, but she kept sucking. When I began to squirt, she held her mouth open, with my dick laying on her tongue. The guys could see my jizz shoot into her mouth, and she caught it all. When I was through, she swallowed, returned to my cock, and sucked out the final few droplets.

The ovation the guys gave us was thunderous.

: : : : : Kayla's point of view : : : : :

I stood, brushed off my knees, and said to Adam, "Are we taking the Chevelle back to the hotel, or your car?" 

One of the guys said, "What? Not going in? Too far to walk naked?"

Sounded like a challenge to me. Adam said, "My car. I'll get your clothes."

From Adam's parking lot to his apartment is up some wide steps to the mailboxes, then up two flights of stairs to the third floor landing. I climbed the steps to the mailboxes, and the crowd of guys stayed where they were - I guess the view was better from the parking lot. When I reached the mailboxes, a girl about my age was getting her mail, and she glared at me like I was oozing Anthrax or Ebola. 

Looking back, I can see her point - I'm sure I seemed completely indecent to her. At the time, though, I was in a nude-in-public zone, and she seemed pathetically prudish to me. I'm sure we both thought, "What's HER problem?" I ignored her, turned to the guys, spun a slow circle to show them all the sights, and gave a stage curtsy, to another round of applause.

I climbed the steps, pausing and waving at the second floor railing, and received more applause. I climbed to the third floor and bowed, with the biggest response yet. When I returned to the parking lot, I received more high fives, and a few more butt and tit grabs. Adam pulled up in his Acura. I got in, he pulled away, and I put my clothes back on. My adventure was over.

Adam asked, "Dinner tonight?"

"Sorry, can't, we have a silly graduation banquet that's mandatory. If I don't attend, I don't get my class credits."

He looked disappointed, but I think he understood. He drove me to the airport the next morning. 

Flying home, I could barely keep a silly grin off my face. I never imagined that such a thing as Traffic Strip existed, and even when I found out, I never dreamed I'd get to be on it. 

When I got home, I had an email from Adam, with his cell phone shot of me naked in the Chevelle attached. To this day, seeing it sends me back in time to the moment - taking off my clothes in a car in rush hour traffic. It's still the most public thing I've ever done, and I still get excited thinking about it.

I also had an email from Buddy Scott, with a link to K Country 101's archive of Traffic Strip recordings. Too cool - now in addition to telling my friends about my afternoon drive, I could play it for them. I could also play it myself, relive the moment even more vividly than seeing Adam's photo. Let's just say I've done that more than once.

: : : : :