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Driving

By: cantdog



Part One: The Real Rules 

There are so many laws of the road that people seem to be, well, confused about which parts of the code are the most important. And I do hate to see somebody, especially somebody just in front of me when I need to get somewhere, suffering from confusion. So I've prepared this little guide to help these benighted people out. No need to thank me; I hope to benefit from this as much as you do.

The Supremes

I'll begin with three rules which are unquestionably The Most Supremely Important Really Key Rules of driving. The topmost one, the mother of all rules, doesn't even get mentioned in the official manual they give you to study for your driver's test.

This may seem strange. Well, it is. Only after many years, as a citizen acquires experience with the ways of governments, does the thing become understandable. I'm over forty now. The real mystery to me at this stage of my life is how come the driving manual they give you doesn't describe the exhibits at the State Museum or maybe contain recipes or just ads from the Chamber of Commerce.

But this is really the big one: Don't Hit Anything. Don't hit the oncoming traffic on the left and keep off the mailboxes on the right. Curbs are a warning device placed there by civil engineers to wake you up when you lose sight of this rule.

The next two are Pay Attention to What's Going On, which they do mention in the manual, by the way, and Don't Even Drive in the First Place without a Destination. Many of the common problems encountered on the roads result from people who fail to obey these three simple rules.

The one about paying attention is a component of a lot of the lesser rules we'll be looking at later on. Pick a Lane and Get In It, for example, which belongs in the second group, not the top three; the thinking motorist will note right away that this is only a more specific way of saying, "Pay attention to what's going on."

My mad friend Larry would put Pick a Lane up in the top three, but he's not to be trusted when it comes to things that need a nicety of judgement. He has yelled, "Pick a lane, you ass!" out his window at the top of his lungs before. It was a beautiful thing to see, mind you. Inspiring. But you can't applaud it for its finesse or discernment.

One time, I was a passenger in Larry's car because he was taking me to the shop to pick up mine. I'd had to have it repaired after a little difficulty I'd experienced with somebody who didn't have a destination. We had gotten across Broadway during the early part of rush hour, and he was still a bit on edge. At the next intersection, which is ordinarily benign, a cop turned on his rotary roof lights and crept at a snail's pace across the intersection in front of us, followed by a hearse and maybe sixty-two other cars.

There came a noise which sounded like ush! from the driver's side. It was Larry, moaning through clenched teeth. He rolled down his window, and I pricked up my ears. It's always interesting to hear what he'll say out the window under stress.

"The crips get all the good parking places, and the dead guys get the right of way!" he said.

So much for Larry's judgement. Pick a Lane and Get In It is obviously second-priority stuff.

As long as everybody on the road is trying to get somewhere, it is very helpful if we all drive in a way that helps the traffic to flow on. Of course, you and I both know there are folks out there who don't seem to have any strong drive to arrive anywhere anytime soon. That's the reason for primary rule number three, Don't Even Drive in the First Place without a Destination.

An exception to this is a new driver learning the art, which nobody will seriously mind. Whenever I find my way being obstructed by some oblivious twit who seems not to be going anywhere in particular, my wife will say, "Probably a student driver," to make me calm down. There are an awful lot of rookies out there, it would seem.

Secondary Rules

For reference, I will list the next batch of rules out in full. Details and discussion will come later.

--Pick a Lane and Get In It (LSA's forfeit choice of lane).

--Back into places so that you can Come onto the Street Face First.

--The Yellow Light is for Left-Turning Traffic.

--Signal Before you Slow Down or Start to Turn, not After.

--You Have a Responsibility to Maintain the Flow of Traffic.

--In Case of Drone, it's Up to the First Two Cars Following the Drone to Pass.

--People "Traveling" Under Fifteen Miles per Hour are considered Parked. You can Go Around Parked Cars.

--All you Have to Do is Go By That Guy who's Turning Left.

--If you Want to Turn Left, Waiting for the Oncoming Lanes to Clear Is Supposed To Be Done Out Beyond the Stop Line.

--Close it the Hell Up.

These are in no particular order, but they're all secondary rules. That means that the primary rules override them. Don't pass the drone, for example, if you'll have to hit anything to do it. You can't go around the guy who's turning left if the lane to the right of you is full-- pay attention to what's going on. You get the idea.

Now, it's a fine point, but I want to bring it up now in order to get it out of the way. At first blush, I seem to have made a mistake and put the rule about being responsible for the traffic flow in the wrong category. Believe me, I know how important this is; I even considered putting it into the top group myself for a moment, but I did it this way because I think it is one of those rules which is overridden by the top three.

Not only that, but put it up there in the top group yourself for a moment, just as an experiment. See if it overrides any of the second group. See? It actually means the same thing as every rule in the second group! All of the second group are just specific cases of the rule about being responsible to keep the traffic moving smoothly. But we are getting lost now in the finer points of driving theory. Let's return to the discussion at hand.

Let's Discuss It

The secondary rules will now be taken up one by one. Let's deal with my mad friend's favorite first: Pick a Lane and Get In It (LSA's forfeit choice of lane). LSA stands for Lane-Straddling Ass, of course. If there's an LSA ahead of you, you should remember that if he won't pick a lane, you have the right to pick one for him. If you want him to the right, for example, pull by him on the left! Suddenly, he's in the right-hand lane, just like that.

Another little-known rule is the Roger Bannister rule. Remember Roger Bannister? He was the first man to break the four-minute mile, which stood like a barrier for decades. There were even pundits who held that it was physiologically impossible for a human being to run a mile in less than four minutes. Well, he was going fifteen miles an hour. If a car can't go any faster than Roger Bannister, go around it. People "Traveling" Under Fifteen Miles per Hour are considered Parked. What the hell, they're probably reading house numbers or something, anyway.

Some trailer parks and such places will post speed limits of fifteen and even ten miles per hour. Treat such ideas with the contempt they deserve-- there is no ten miles per hour.

For years, comedians have been telling us that the yellow light means, "Go real fast," but this is not the case. There's a problem with left turns at any traffic light, and this is one of the things the yellow light is for. If you're not turning left, give the poor bugger who is a break and stop on the yellow so that he can make his turn and clear the intersection. Otherwise, the left-turn lane progresses only one or two cars per light cycle. It's worse if there's only one lane, because then the whole line progresses only one or two cars per cycle. The Yellow Light is for Left-Turning Traffic. It's one of the ways you can do your bit for the traffic flow.

Drones. This was originally Larry's theory, and I'm almost sure there's nothing to it. I'll save it for next time, though. It wants explaining, and it'll take a little time to do it right.

Part Two: Drones

The nomenclature of drones goes like this: a drone is the guy going slow, and the drone line is the cars and whatnot piling up behind him. Secondary drones are assistants to the primary drone at the head of the line, and Larry always assumed they had to divide the total score between them, but if you watch what goes on in a drone line, you'll see that a drone with a skillful secondary drone to help him can really rack up a huge drone line. And in heavy traffic, even if they have to split it, each one's score will still be good.

I don't know whether or not this game is really being played. If you find yourself well back in a drone line sometime, though, you might as well observe the technique the drone is using, because if he's any good, you'll have plenty of time with not much else to do.

Drones understand the rule about the first two people behind the primary drone having the onus to pass. From any spot behind the first two in the drone line, it is a hazardous undertaking to try to break out. Once somebody pulls out into the passing lane, the line seems to close up, to heal itself, as it were, and whoever is passing has to canoodle somebody further up into opening up a slot for him to get into. This could result in a lot of people violating Rule One unintentionally.

Drone lines make people feel desperate and trapped, though, and you always have to keep an eye out for people who try to pass even though they aren't one of the first two. The world is full of people willing to risk not only their own lives but yours, too, in order to save themselves ten minutes' driving time.

The first two cars in a drone line can pass and re-enter the lane beyond the primary drone, in the clear. They are also the only ones with a reliable view of the oncoming traffic ahead of the drone. Because the people in the first two slots are sometimes responsible and intelligent and will pass at the first safe opportunity, drones lose points, and a drone line clears. This is where the secondary drones come into the picture. Put a Winnebago or somebody with a good big camper in the first or second slot, and the score begins to skyrocket.

If the person in the second slot really is a secondary drone playing the game, she will use drone techniques to help out the cause. She will slow down in the curving, narrow spots and also as soon as a green light comes into view. But on the straights she will neither pass nor slow down so that others can pass, but instead she'll speed up so that passing her will take longer and leave you hanging in the passing lane longer than is good for you.

Primary drones do this, of course, but if there's a good secondary, there is no hope the line will clear in a reasonable time. At that point, especially if you're back in the line a bit, you might as well smile and admire the artistry of the drone work being done, because you're going to be late if you don't have an alternate route.

Sometimes a person in the middle of the drone line will start slowing down even more, capturing the tail of the line for himself. This raiding behavior is part of the game, I think. There's quite a bit to it, if you watch what's happening.

Most times, the first and second slots behind the primary drone just become filled by timid people, people who promised Mommy they never never would pass, for example. They aren't really using drone techniques, and they will let you by if you want to risk it. This will happen sooner or later if a line persists long enough, and it's just jam for the primary drone, because he gets a lot of the benefits of a secondary without having to split the score.

See if you can spot whether or not the timid one is really an assistant drone! It helps the time go by, and also, if you do lose perpective and decide to pass, it's a lot safer to pass someone who isn't actively trying to keep you in the line, as a secondary drone will do.

This sounds like paranoia...

If the whole idea that the drones of the world are keeping score and engaging in a competition seems like one of those conspiracy ideas paranoid people keep having, well, remember, it was Larry's theory. I was his passenger again, no matter why, and we were going to Dover or someplace, a longish road, anyhow, with only a few good stretches in it where a person could pass. The drone at the head of our little drone line sped up amazingly through those places, only to slow back down again just as soon as the danger that somebody might escape him was over. They really do that, this is not paranoia, or at least not yet.

I said, "Christ, it's like the guy's trying to build up the biggest line he can possibly get."

I can't imagine why, but people often ask me to explain what the heck I'm talking about. "What the heck are you talking about?" Larry asked.

"The fella who's so goddam slow up there. He's built up this huge line, see? We come to a straightaway; you'd think somebody at least could pass him, but he speeds 'way up. Anybody try to pass him, they'd be hanging out there in the oncoming lane too long. So I said, 'it's like the guy is really trying to make sure he holds on to the biggest possible line of cars,' because he slows right down again as soon as the road closes up again."

"CB radios! They're all on the CB comparing notes!" Larry was off; the Big Idea had hit. "It's a competition, man. It's, like, a nationwide game!"

Through the rest of the trip, we brainstormed the whole thing. Or perhaps we only deduced the whole thing? Nah, it's too weird. But you can actually see them, man, behaving just as if there really was a game.

Anyway, the real discussion here is the secondary rules of driving, and the rule which applies here is In Case of Drone, it's Up to the First Two Cars Following the Drone to Pass. This is a responsibility we all must undertake to shoulder. If shoulder is the word I want.

Like all secondary rules, this one is overridden by the primary rules too. Whether you're the first car behind a major player or not, there's no percentage in risking your ass to save five minutes' driving time.

Okay, so what's left out of our list? You Have a Responsibility to Maintain the Flow of Traffic. That's a good one, and the drone thing is really, as we've mentioned, only a subset of this excellent observation. The genius of the automobile is motion.

Maintaining flow is so sensible that quite naturally almost nobody gives it a thought more often than once in a fortnight. When the motorist up ahead decides to turn left, for instance, it's reminiscent of the rule Jesus is supposed to use on Judgement Day, you remember the one: sheep to the right, goats to the left? Well, when somebody has come to the point on her itinerary which calls for her to hang a left, the people in the traffic flow behind her are immediately sorted into their two groups.

In this case, though, the sheep line up meekly behind her and sit there, but the human beings, who after all Don't Even Drive in the First Place without a Destination, try to see if it is feasible to simply go past her to her right and keep everyone moving. You get a really good view of this sorting procedure from three or four cars back. But the rule says, bleat not. All you Have to Do is Go By That Guy who's Turning Left. Be a human being.

We have come to a point of some subtlety now, and I will want a bit of space to expand the thing before your critical intelligence, so we'll finish up the secondary rules next time.

Part Three: Good Sense and Safety

"Running the prairies I have learned a thing or two, me," the Québecois said. Larry had read my article at Hamoudi's Diner, and we were discussing the secondary rules. This fellow from Chicoutimi or Chibougamou or someplace was sitting by himself at the table next to our booth, and he asked to join us. "And you know what piss me off the biggest time? Those guys, they cut you off, you know? They cut you off, out they come, you go, eh bien, this fellow he is very much in a hurry, but I am not hit him. So far, okay. At least, you know, this one fellow he will move the ass right along, eh? The man in the hurry, he will haul ass, eh? But no! No, and this is what piss me off. I don't mind so much the cut off, but Then by damn the Guy He must Haul Ass.

"Is this one in this book of yours?"

"He's got you there, son," Larry said. "You missed that one."

"Au contraire," I rejoined, "There it is at the end of the list: Close it the Hell Up.

"And the beauty of Close it the Hell Up is, it's something you can do yourself to prevent being frustrated by that guy. He risks everyone's ass to pull out ahead of you, but then forgets why he was in such a hurry and slows right down. I know, it sucks! But if you Close it the Hell Up then he won't be cutting you off to begin with. Makes you personally a lot safer if people aren't cutting you off all day long."

"Wait. So you drive right on the ass of the guy in the front of you?"

"Tailgaters annoy me," Larry agreed. "He's right."

"No, it's not tailgating, and it can't really be calculated by the car-length-per-ten-miles thing, either. It's a matter of visual distance..."

I had to stop, then, because of course they don't use miles in Québec and the car length thing didn't make any sense to him. But Larry knew it. They made a big deal of it in class. It had to do with stopping distance. The teacher told us to leave the distance of the length of a car between you and the fellow in front of you for every ten miles per hour of speed.

But at night, you really should be back so that your headlights fall below the level of the guy's rear window. And in traffic, it's really visual distance. You have to make your line of traffic look like there isn't enough room to cut in. Whatever that distance is, that's how close you follow. If you're moving right along at thirty or better (forty-five or better, in kilometers), then you can be a good comfortable distance back and still look too close for the guy to want to cut in. If you're creeping you will have to be really close in, though.

Larry says, "So if the line is creeping, you have a duty to tailgate?"

"It sounds bad to put it like that, but who made the line creep? If you drive at twenty, people are going to pile up behind you. That's just a fact of nature."

"True," Larry conceded, "And the guy going that slow has no business complaining about tailgaters. But I still don't like it."

"If you don't, though, that guy is going to see his chance and cut you off. That's okay, sometimes. But if you don't make a habit of Closing it the Hell Up, people will cut in front of you a dozen times, just going to the mall and back-- which is unsafe! Who wants to drive like that all day? It's damn risky; the risk accumulates.

"Besides, I'm going to be letting people come in from side streets once in a while, anyway. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven."

Think It Through

Now we come to the anti-stupid rules. One of these is the thing about backing into places. In my circle, it's considered a mark of intelligence to be in a driveway or a parking slot facing out. I've gotten resistance about this idea, but it's clear as crystal to me.

It's a learning curve thing, since they don't teach it. We have a street in my town which leads out of town into a bog and then into a tiny village or two. It really doesn't go to any place important, not for some while. People used to come home and just nose into the driveway. There was little penalty for it, because there was little traffic.

Then the big mall went in. Amazingly, people kept on nosing in! They had to back out, sometimes all but blindly, into a steady stream of frustrated traffic, but nothing would make them reflect. Learn, people! Every time you leave home, you have to risk your ass! You have to rely on the kindness of strangers, just to get out on the street! And they would even do it across both lanes in order to go left! That sort of suicidal stupidity astounds me, when all you have to do is Back into places so that you can Come onto the Street Face First.


Driving



The other anti-stupid thing is about turning left. There you are, turning left at a light, waiting for it to change to green. I do hope you already have a signal on? That's good.

Now, when it goes green, get over that stop line. Then and only then, wait for the lane to clear so you can turn. Why? Because the one person in the picture who really has the very first right of way, aside, of course, from the pedestrians, is the guy who occupies the middle of the intersection. If you end up sitting there through the whole green light, you will be that man. You're in the middle of the box, so you have the right of way, so you will get to turn left before Candlemas.

If you wait behind the stop line and it turns yellow and then red again, you have lost your chance to turn. If you do it that way, you must have noticed that to be true. Again, this is a learning curve. 

Do you actually like waiting to turn left for twenty minutes? Well, then, imagine for a moment how the poor people sitting behind you are going to feel. They will think you are too stupid to be let out of sight of the keeper, and rightly so. If you Want to Turn Left, Waiting for the Oncoming Lanes to Clear Is Supposed To Be Done Out Beyond the Stop Line. And I didn't make this up. This one really was in the manual.

And signal, people. Thanks. 



Driving



After my divorce I decided I needed a new life and attitude. One I have been waiting all my life for, it seems. I always grew up with the idea, try it once, if you like it do it again, don't like it, well at least you tried it. So with this in my head, new things have been bombarding me for the last few years. Some things I never thought of doing, or if I did, the person I was with definitely was not the candidate to try it on.

My fuck buddy called one day, said 'Let's take a road trip, pack a bag!' So I met him in the city, parked my car hopped in his and off we went. You never know about someone till you take a road trip. Boy was I about to be educated.

We talked small talk.... a lot of nothing, but the usual.

'Why don't you take off your shirt?' Looking at me with that lustful gaze he gets.

Never even thought twice about it; I yanked off my shirt and bra. Driving, he looks at my tits and sighs, admiring the 40 D view. His truck sits high enough that not everyone can see. I lean back and we continue talking. He then reaches for my tit and starts playing with the nipple. Rubbing on it, cupping the tit and caressing. It has become so erotic, very shortly I start squirming. My jeans soaking up my pussy juice.

'You know,' he says quietly, 'Might as well remove those pants while your at it. I'm sure they are very uncomfortable.'

'Your kidding, right?' I look dumb founded at him.

'Well it does take a woman a little more time to warm up, and you do require a minimum of five orgasms. So, just thinking ahead.' Smiling as he says this, watching my reaction.

'This is true.' Is all I could answer. I couldn't remove my pants fast enough. By this time I am extremely turned on. As I remove my clothing, I'm thinking a toy would be right handy soon. Naked as a jaybird I turn to the back seat and rummage into my bag. I have learned with him, we don't do anything without toys. I pull out my favorite Bob. As he smacks my ass.

'You expecting action honey?' As he sees what I bring forward.

'Oh yeah!' looking at him I draw up to his ear and nibble, kissing down his neck. Bracing my knees on the seat. He responds by teasing my clit. Then pushes a finger into me while I kiss further down then back up his neck. 

'Mmmm, you are so going to fuck me hard later.' Moaning into his ear softly. He turns quickly and swipes his tongue across my mouth. Taking out his finger and then sucking it, as I move towards the passenger seat. I change my mind, move closer to him putting one leg behind his headrest, laying back, the other leg under his. And scoot my ass closer to him.

'Mmmm, you read my mind.' He responds by placing two fingers in me and uses his thumb on my clit. Stroking my g spot, rubbing and caressing me till I cum so quick and so hard. I've never done this and can't understand why not.

'That's' one.' Is all he says, while still stroking. Making my cum last a little longer. My pussy clenching on his fingers.  He continues to stroke and rub. Making me drip. All you can smell is my juices flowing freely all over his hand. I cannot stop moving with him, building an even stronger cum. Three cums later, breathing heavily and squirming from sensitivity. I feel the truck bump. I try to lean up to an elbow. I have been so engrossed I didn't pay attention as to where we are. I see out the window we are at a park and ride. I know what he wants. I lay back, moaning , he still has not stopped stroking.

'Ahhhhh.' I scream out as I cum hard. Pulling his fingers out, my pussy feels empty as it contracts. Leaking my cum onto his seat.

He pulls the door open, unzips his pants. I untangle my leg from the headrest as he grabs my hips and pulls me to the edge of the driver seat. His cock is hard and throbbing. He never even hesitates as he slams me into him. The sensation of his cock filling every void in my pussy makes me scream out his name. He pounds into me as I reach up his shirt and pinch his nipples. Holding my hips stronger he slows, backing his cock out slowly to the tip then back in hard and deep. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, moving with him as he pumps into me all his cum.

He lays forward onto my chest as we are both panting.

'I really didn't think you would agree. But am so glad you did.' As he tenderly kisses across my chest and nips at my tits. Laying his head down, with my legs wrapped around him still, I massage his head and back with my nails. He moans deeply.

'Watching you, feeling your cum's, made me so fucking hot.  I couldn't help it.' He murmurs in my tits. 'And we have another three hours to go. I can tell your going to kill me.'

'It was your idea.' I chuckle. 'Besides who is going to kill who here.' He stands up and steps back, releasing both our cum's from me.

'Clean-up, then back on the road.' All business like. As he re-button's his jeans, I grab his shirt and pull him forward, kissing him passionately. Rubbing my tits to his chest and moaning. Pulling back he grabs a towel from the back, pushes me down and cleans me up. Kissing my pussy lips as he works his way up, giving my tits proper attention and pulling me up to him, kissing me deeply.

'Okay, back on the road. But do not get dressed.' He demands. I turn to crawl back to the passenger side as he slaps my ass. I am fine with this. Mmmm. We pull back out onto the freeway. My pussy has to settle back down anyway.

We talked small talk, a lot of nothing, but the usual, again. Yet again, he plays with my tit as he drives. It is unreal how erotic this has all become. Our talking starts getting more graphic, about what will really happen in the hotel room.

'You know, once your naked on the bed, I want you on your back, so I can slowly lick up from your balls to the tip of your cock and swallow you down even slower. Then rise up to fuck and tease you till you explode.' I said, sultry and deeper in tone.

'Really? Then I want you on your stomach, naked, only I am going to start at your toes. By the time I reach your ass, you will be begging to have me fuck you. And fuck you I will. Laying down on your back, sliding my cock deep in and out. With you begging and screaming in the pillows, to let you cum.'

I'm not dripping cum anymore, it's just plain pussy juice.

After about another hour, he starts pinching and rubbing my nipples harder. I moan and start moving my hips as I begin playing with my pussy.

'You know I'm still dripping from earlier.' I softly respond.

'Yeah I know, but I really want to see you use Bob. I love to hear you cum.' He replies, pinching my nipples harder.

I put one leg up on the dash and lean towards him, giving him better access to work both tits. Begin working Bob, slowly in, out. Moaning and moving with my rhythm I turn Bob on with the clit tickler. Moving him in, out, deeper. He grabs my tit, and squeezing, listening to me moan louder. I'm pulling Bob deeper and harder into me.

'Oh baby, ...... your cock. Look what it's doing to my pussy. Ahhhhhh yessssss. Don't stop , don't stop. Fuck me baby, fuck me deep and hard. Harder.' Talking dirtier to him as my cum builds. I have lost all inhibitions with him. And here I thought we had done just about everything. Whole new avenues have opened up.

'Darling, my cock is so throbbing for your cunt. I can smell it. Yeah baby, fuck yourself, it's my cock fucking you. Slide him deeper baby, yeah.' Pinching my tits and squeezing them as I start to scream. He continues to coach me.

Screaming louder as I cum again. By the time we make the hotel I will be exhausted. But ohhh what a way to be tired. I look up at him, talk about a shit-eating grin on his face. I roll over, kiss his neck, then lift his shirt and suck on a nipple.

Hearing the horror stories of accidents of women giving men head while driving, ah no. However, I undo his pants and release out his throbbing hard cock into my hands. I grab the lube from the dash and proceed. He gasps as I start stoking him slowly, playing as we talk and cruising down the freeway.

He lifts his ass so I can remove all his cock from his pants. Starting with the tip I play and massage, up and down slowly, squeezing. With the other hands I grasp his balls caressing and pulling on them. Stroking from the top to his balls. Pre-cum leaks out, I lean down and lick it off, still stroking. Faster, squeezing harder, feeling him swell in my hand. I look down and watch his cock, under my spell. He moans more as I can feel his cum build. I stop as I grab something to drink.

'What the fuck are you doing?' He asks me slightly irritated.

'Waiting.' I reply

'What? Oh no you don't!' As he pulls off the next exit

Guess what he did to me then .......



Driving



How would you react if I was in your car with you and we're taking a little road trip. You have me scoot over a little so you can reach over and put your hand between my legs. You slowly move it up my inner thigh and touch my pussy through my jeans. You can feel it's hot and moist. You tell me to unzip my pants so you can reach your hand inside. What you find is a dripping wet pussy and a clit so hard. You work your fingers downward and stick one inside of me working it in and out over and over again while I grind against your hand. You pull the wet finger out and run it up to my clit. 

Not wanting you to get us in a wreck I pull your hand away and tell you to knock it off, that we can wait until you find a secluded spot to fuck. But I'm finding it very hard to wait so I unzip my pants again, pull them down with my pantie's resting mid thigh. You're watching me but you're speechless. I spread my legs wide open for you, slide my fingers in to my pussy stilly very juicy, and my clit swollen. One hand has a finger inserted, with the other I am teasing my clit (and you). You're watching me... your cock is so hard it's tight inside your pants and you have to release it.

You pull it out, it's hard and beautiful it looks as though if it got much harder it will explode. While you're watching me you stroke it. I love watching you hold your hard cock in your hand which only makes me get hotter, and hotter to the point of cumming, but I hold off. 

Finally you see a turn in the road which leads us down a dusty road ending at a grove of tree's just off the hwy. You get out, come to my side opening the door ordering me to "get out" I pull my pants up just enough to get out without tripping. Then you tell me to strip, and wanting so badly to please you I do as I'm told. 

Standing in front of you naked, you tell me to get on my knees and suck your cock. Puninshing me for being such a tease, you fuck my face hard and fierce, I gag a little bit making my eyes water. But I love the way your cock feels in my mouth and the forceful way you are fucking it. With mascara dripping down my cheeks and my mouth open as wide as it will go, you thrust in and out of my mouth. My hands resting on your hips, each time you pull out I pull you toward me. Your cock is dripping wet, taking one hand away from your hip I stroke it fast as I suck and lick. You feel you're about to cum, so you slow down allowing me to make love to your cock with my mouth instead of fucking it. I take your cock in my hand look up at you wantingly, while I slowly lick from the base of the shaft to the head. When my tongue reaches the head I swirl it slowly around and under the head. Kissing and licking it. I love sucking your cock because I know how much it pleases you.

Finally you can stand no more and pull me to my feet. With one hand on the back of my neck you tug my head back licking and sucking on my neck and that place behind my ear that drives me almost to orgasm every time. You stop and look in to my eyes, and then kiss me softyly, when you pull away, I climb up on to the car and spread my legs open. Dipping one finger in to my pussy, it's dripping wet. I put the same finger in my mouth tasting my juices. 

You want to taste me too, you slide one finger inside me, together we fuck my pussy with our fingers. We both pull our fingers out, you insert your finger in my mouth and I put my finger in your mouth as we both suck my juices off our fingers.

I can't stand anymore and beg you for your cock. My legs spread, sun shining down on my wet pussy you slide your cock inside of me but just enough to tease me with the swollen head. You do this to me several times, then drive your cock hard as deep as it will go and then slowly pull it out. You feel so good deep inside I just want you to fuck me hard but you continue teasing me slowly. Suddenly you catch me by surprise by picking up the pace, it feel so good to be fucked hard, but at the same time the way you alternate slow and fast it's like a combination of making love and fucking.

We both are at the point of climax, you can feel my pussy tighten around your cock, I can't hold off any longer. I get quiet for about 30 seconds, just watching you thrust your beautiful cock in and out of me, then the silence breaks and I start to cum, screaming and moaning... the sound of my pleasure always makes you go over the edge. 

You start to cum, half of it inside of me the other half on my pussy, then you pull out and take your cell phone out of your pants pocket and take a picture of your cum dripping down my pussy to my ass. 

We like to take a photo of your cum, that's what we do. We have photos of your cum dripping down my ass after you've fucked my ass, we have pictures of it dripping off the tip of my tongue, between my tits, in my hand, and your favorite is cumming in my mouth and then I take your cock and run it around my lips as though I was using it as lip gloss.

You taste so good.



Driving a Cousin



Everybody is 18.

*

This is the story of an automobile trip taken to my grandmother's funeral by myself and my girl cousin, Leigh. My name is Ken and I live in work in the same town as my cousin. It is purely coincidence that we live in the same town, as Leigh and I are not close, nor do we see each other often even though we live only a few miles from one another. Our mothers are sisters. We are first cousins and have the same grandmother. Oh, and Leigh is a bitch.

We are the same age and as small children we played together and were good friends. As teenagers, though, Leigh decided to turn her back on me for another crowd that had no room for me or any of my friends. 

There was one incident in particular that happened when Leigh and I were in high school that ended our friendship. We both ended up at the same party one night and she stood in a circle talking to some new friends she wanted to impress with her coolness when I walked up and stood to the side hoping to be included in the conversation. Leigh clearly did not want me in her crowd or even near her. 

I had begun talking and laughing with a couple of guys I knew when she took a step towards me and slapped me across the face saying, "Shut up you asshole, go back to your loser friends!" She humiliated me and embarrassed me in front of everybody within hearing distance. From that moment until now I have had nothing to do with Leigh. I have been polite to her at family gatherings but no endearments have been exchanged and certainly no hugs have taken place.

Now we are in our thirties and living in the same town by coincidence when my mom calls to say that our grandmother has died and the funeral is Friday. Could I please let Leigh ride with me the three hours to the funeral? My Mom had thoughts for years that Leigh and I might reconcile and she was always planning situations that could bring us together. It was only at my Mom's request that I agreed to give Leigh a ride. So, I phoned Leigh and she acted like I was doing her a favor to call and offer a ride, but we did make arrangements to ride together. 

Leigh was a tenured professor in the business department at the local college. She said she had a 9 AM meeting that would last about an hour and we could leave afterwards. I mentioned to Leigh that we had a three hour ride and leaving at 10 AM left us no time to spare. Besides, I like to arrive at least 15 minutes early. Leigh said she would be ready at 10 AM. WTF, I thought, I'll meet you at 10. 

On Friday morning I was waiting outside Leigh's building at 9:30 in hopes that she would be early, but no such luck. I sat in my new Lexus waiting for her to arrive. I had owned the car for a month and I still had the "proud car owner glow" about me as I listened to music on the Bose speakers while admiring the wood trim and leather seats. 

Leigh arrived at 10:10 AM which pretty much assured that we would have to haul ass the next three hours if we wanted to get to the service on time. She walked thru the doors of her building toward my car wearing a black business suit with a mid thigh skirt, black hose, carrying an overnight bag and a lap top computer. She must have known how gorgeous she looked as she walked with attitude, dressed in black for her Nana's funeral. I was fuming and ready to choke her before the trip even got started.

She ignored the fact of her tardiness as if she was entitled to the privilege of being late. However, she proved to be surprisingly pleasant when she got in the car and we made our way out of town and towards Charleston, the funeral and our relatives. 

"Here," she said, "I brought you something." She handed me a bottle of Gatorade and took one for herself.

"That's the nicest thing you have ever done for me," I said, "Besides, when did you start being nice?"

"Oh, I have my moments," she replied. 

Leigh had a pretty decent music selection on her I-Pod as she plugged it into the Bose system and shuffled her selection. We heard Outkast, Jack Johnson, Hendrix, Coltrane, Adam Ant, Vampire Weekend and some other artists with whom I was not familiar.

Leigh had finished grad school at Duke University and got the small college teaching job right away. At 34 years old she was a tenured and published professor with a secure future. I asked with a hint of antagonism if she still behaved like a bitch. She explained that she had turned the corner on her bitchiness and bad behavior, that she was now quite a nice person. I doubted it. But, we drove along I-26 toward Charleston while listening to music and sipping our Gatorades while we shared stories of our lives over the past 10 to 15 years. 

All was good until the traffic slowed and we moved along at about 5 miles an hour past an accident scene. The delay made me nervous and tense as we lost travel time and it was almost guaranteed that we would be late for our Nana's funeral. But pretty soon the speed picked up and we were traveling at a decent speed again. I calculated that with some luck we would arrive right on time without a single minute to spare. Not great, but it was better than being late. That's when Leigh held up the empty Gatorade bottle and announced that she had to stop somewhere to pee. We were running 10 minutes late already because of her. We still had an hour to drive and she wanted to take the next exit for a pee break - not good. Also, it wasn't going to happen.

"You know we will be late for our own grandmother's funeral if we stop for you to pee, don't you," I said. I told her it was out of the question and she should just pee in her empty Garorade bottle. 

"No," she answered.

"Piss in the Gatorade bottle," I said, pushing her buttons and getting some enjoyment out of this situation. 

"YOU piss in a Gatorade bottle, asshole. Pull in somewhere and let me pee in a bathroom," she said. It was like somebody had flipped the bitch switch on her.

There was that word again, asshole. Then a switch flipped on me as well. She called me an asshole. The difference between now and the last time she called me an asshole was that now we were alone in a car that I was driving 75 mph down an interstate highway. I was in control.

"You want me to piss in a Gatorade bottle, do you? Then watch this."

With that I twisted the cap off of my own empty Gatorade bottle, opened my pants and slipped them beneath me, exposing my dick. I sat with my naked ass on the leather seat, put the head of my dick in the wide mouth of the bottle and began to pee. Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she watched until I filled my bottle to the top and twisted the cap back on.

"That's how you do it cocksucker, now it's your turn," I said. "Piss into your bottle, piss into your fucking bottle, or you will have to sit there and piss all over yourself. This car is not stopping and we have another hour before we get to Charleston. 

Her eyes were wide as she took stock of her situation and what she had been ordered to do. 

She timidly pulled her pantyhose down to mid thigh and slid the Gatorade bottle under her skirt. This was a bad arrangement as she missed the bottle and pissed on her pantyhose, skirt, hands and my leather seat. She was a mess.

"Pull your pantyhose down to your ankles, raise your skirt and spread your legs. Put the bottle next to your pussy and piss into the bottle. And don't piss on my seat again," I instructed her calmly and deliberately.

She did as I said. When she opened her legs and lifted her skirt I saw the problem. Her labia were large and looked like a butterfly. Her piss flaps were spitting piss everywhere.

"Pull your pussy lips apart and put the mouth of the bottle on your urethra," I said.

Again, she followed my instructions but she had so much piss that the bottle overflowed and piss spilled all over her pussy, her hands, legs and my seat. I reached into the back seat and grabbed a T-shirt and began wiping up the piss from my new leather seat and everywhere else it had spilled. Then a startling thing happened. As the T-shirt touched lightly against her pussy she grabbed my wrist with both her hands and pushed her clit against the smooth fabric of the T-shirt, moaning as she did so. 

She deliberately increased the pressure on her clit while she leaned back further in the seat and rotated a little more laying one leg flat against the seat, knee bent. The other leg she rested on the dash. She tossed the T-shirt aside and put my hand next to her pussy

I now had an unbelievable view of her sweet cunt and those big pussy lips. Her clit sat up like an acorn. Illuminated by the afternoon sun, it glistened moistly as I traveled down the interstate towards our Nana's funeral.

"Watch the road," she teased. You don't want me to put your fingers in there, do you?" 

Leigh didn't wait for a reply. She just smiled slyly as my fingers found her fuzzy pubic mound, touching it lightly and softly. She eased the two fingertips of my middle fingers into her pussy, bringing them right back out to rub around her huge lips and clit. 

"Here, look." "Mmmmmmm how's that?" she asked, now sliding my two fingers again, quicker and more deeply into her.

My fingers began moving faster now, making a smacking sound, Leigh rubbed her clit madly with her protruding thumb to send herself over the edge as my fingers continued to slide in and out of her dripping slit. Leigh moved her right hand up to open her blouse and her gorgeous titties bounced freely as she tweaked her pointed nipples and grabbed my wrist, finger fucking herself into frenzy. I could tell she was close to cumming.

Soon she trembled all over and let out a loud moan. Her cum juices combined with piss to flood over my hand as she sighed and whimpered with the release. I watched her tense and tremble, going completely still for a few moments before she let her hips fall, sinking back to the seat exhausted. The smell of her huge orgasm and spilled piss replaced the new car smell of my Lexus.

We had another half hour to drive before we reached Charleston. Suddenly a car honked and I realized I had drifted into the left lane, but just slightly.

I desperately wanted to cum now. I needed to release my throbbing cock, as I was still driving with my pants around my ankles with a huge hard on. I thought about jacking off, but I didn't think I could do that while driving and fingering her.

Leigh had collapsed in the seat and leaned against me with her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, her head moving toward my cock. In only a few seconds she had put the length of my throbbing cock in her mouth, moving her mouth up and down while cupping my balls in her hand. Then she gripped the shaft while moving her lips onto the head and moving her right hand beneath me where her middle finger tickled my anus while she continued to pump with her mouth

"Oh, Leigh," I moaned, holding onto the steering wheel while threading the fingers of my right hand through her soft, fragrant hair. "I never imagined this would happen."

She squirmed a little, shifting her legs, arching her back and exposing more of her ass as she sucked me. It was like she was offering herself to some invisible man behind her, wanting to get fucked. 

I loved hearing the sound of her breathing through her nose as she worked hard for her reward. The feel of her bouncing head in my hands was an unbelievable turn-on for me and Leigh seemed to be turned on by it as well. She knew I was getting close, and the idea of my impending orgasm obviously aroused her. Leigh whimpered in anticipation, wanting to make me cum in her mouth. She fucking wanted it!

"Oh, damn," I moaned, massaging Leigh's scalp. "Oh, God! Hmmmm . . . ."

Leigh moaned as my semen jetted into her mouth. She jerked back until just the spurting head of my cock was between her shiny wet lips. She sucked hard, making faint little grunting noises as my thick, creamy load filled her mouth. Her tongue rubbed firmly against the underside of my cock head, and her hands stroked up and down my shaft, lightly squeezing my balls, coaxing out every drop of my cum.

I trembled with intense pleasure and held my hands tightly on the steering wheel, letting out loud groans. I thrashed as she just kept sucking me and prolonging my orgasm. I stared down at her and saw that some of my juice had smeared around her lips making them sticky and glossy. 

As Leigh moved down mouthing and licking my deflated balls, I looked at the speedometer and we were traveling at 110 mph and approaching a long line of cars in the right lane. I immediately moved into the left lane while braking and moving again to avoid a single truck and finally back safely into the right lane.

The rush was nearly too much for me and I was lucky not to have suffered a fucking heart attack.

Leigh was dragging her wet tongue around my shaft, licking around the head a little, then easing her way upwards to kiss me, pushing tongue and the remains of my cum into my mouth.

"Who you calling a cocksucker," she said with the most beautiful smile.

"Sorry," I said.

"You don't have to be, I am the one who should have apologized to you years ago," she replied.

But we still had some work to do as we were both a mess approaching downtown Charleston. Leigh grabbed my T-shirt and wiped her mouth and face, no matter that it was still wet from her piss. But she did a good job of pulling herself together. I got my pants up and belt buckled and we looked surprisingly presentable as we drove the Lexus slowly through the city streets. Leigh had removed all of her make-up with the wet T-shirt and looked downright wholesome and beautiful to me at this moment.

We made it to the funeral home with 8 minutes to spare. The 110 mph blowjob had made up for lost time, in so many ways. All the bullshit was gone. Leigh and I were friends again. Maybe that was all we needed to do and maybe that's all anybody needs to do. Help one another cum, it pushes all the bullshit aside and makes up for lost time.



Driving Adventure



Regarding the Category: While it starts as Exhibitionist, only the first bit is... it quickly changes to BDSM. And there is no editor, so all errors are mine.

Mistress instructed me to post this, so I hope you enjoy the read! 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before I got on 64W, heading home after a week in Virginia Beach, I read Mistress's morning email about how exciting it would be if I showed my legs to the truckers as they cruised by, and to top it off, Her mentioning showing off my pussy! Well, easier said than done, I thought.

I wasn't on the road longer than half an hour before my views of the calm, cold waters of the Chesapeake Bay turned to thoughts of Master and Mistress being together back home. I envisioned I was watching Them, on my knees, my wrists bound behind me, my pussy growing wet and aching for the same fingers pleasing Mistress to the point of Her screaming as she orgasmed, which we both have shared at His hand. 

So once the road straightened, I pulled the hem of the dress up just to the above my crotch; I knew the truckers wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. Slowly, I ran my fingernails up and down my thighs, close to my pussy without touching any part of it. Immediately, and as always, the goose bumps quickly appeared. 

Looking around, I was disappointed there were no truckers around yet, so I just kept imagining Master tormenting Mistress as She lay tied to the bed and blindfolded, the tip of the vibrator resting on Her clit as she struggled to free Herself...

With that, I wanted to feel more, needed to feel more. I could feel the moisture between my legs and butterflies fluttered in my stomach from how daring I was being, how naughty, how slutty.

A few minutes later, I ventured to my clit but found it dry. It wasn't that was wasn't turned on - I definitely was - but I wasn't in the right position to explore my cunt. Regardless, with one hand on the wheel, I pushed my hand down further to my pussy, happy to find it wet. However, the position just wasn't going to work being that I couldn't gain full access to my goods. So, I put my left foot on the dashboard by the door and tried to relax as much as I could, continuing to gather moisture from my pussy.

With a sly grin, I dipped my finger in as far as I could, softly moaning as it easily entered until it was wet enough and I couldn't take it anymore. I slid my finger up to my clit - my then swollen, aching nub. Circling my finger around the base, I slowly added pressure until it felt just right.

Looking at the road ahead of me - safety being key, of course - I noticed a truck coming up in the right lane. I shivered with exhilaration at the thrill of having the driver peer down on me and watching me through the opened sunroof. I set the cruise control and continued to pleasure myself, imagining Master and Mistress whispering encouraging thoughts to me as my orgasm came closer and closer. 

Seeing the cab of the truck directly alongside my car, a soft whimper escaped my lips as I grazed my one 'joy spot' on the right of my clit. Totally aware of where he was, I used the end of my finger and flicked my clit, slowly at first, until my cries of pleasure echoed back to me. 

I tried to hold my orgasm back when the cab was right by my window, wondering if anyone was looking down and enjoying the view, possibly even holding his own cock in his hand. When he didn't accelerate and remained where he was, I knew I was being watched. 

Putting my head on the head rest, eyes still on the road, I cried out loud and came hard, not even holding back my orgasm face.

A moment later, as the orgasm faded, my breath fast and heavy, I had to slow down as the car in front of me was going slower than I was. The truck continued ahead of me, and I waited a few minutes before I purposely sped up and passed the same truck.

Still wondering if he actually had seen my Dirty Driving, my answer was soon given when I saw the trucker flashing his lights. Grinning wickedly, I stuck my hand out of the sun roof and gave him a thumbs up!

Of course I thanked Mistress and Master - although, now that I think about it, She hadn't given me permission. Well, shit. Add another punishment.

Pushing that thought of fear aside, about ten minutes down the road, no longer keeping the trucker in my rear view mirror, I had to use the bathroom badly. Luckily there was a Flying J's, an East coast gas station that also served truckers by a clothes washer and drying and showers so they could clean up.

Rushing inside the ladies room, I quickly peed and cleaned myself up, but found my clit was still sensitive and I was still fucking horny! I thought about getting myself off again, but I still had traffic in Fredericksburg to deal with and I wanted to get back on the road.

Back outside, I stood in the drinks section debating whether to get the healthy choice of water or something sweet and highly caloric. Grabbing a SunKist, I turned and ran into a brick wall. 

That brick wall turned out to be a 6'2" man with chocolate brown hair, big, soulful blue eyes wearing a smile that would wake the dead. His tight chest was the brick wall, and fortunately I didn't break my nose as I collided with it. He didn't smell bad, but by the condition of his wrinkled shirt and dirty jeans he was in need of a good, long shower. Besides, if he cleaned up a bit, I would definitely proposition him for some fun in his...

"Whoah, there," he said, his big, strong hands holding my elbows so I wouldn't ricochet off the wall. Only then did I notice a duffle bag on the floor beside him.

It was several seconds before his words even registered in my brain, being that I was so mesmerized by his intense glare. "Oh, my god! I am sooo sorry!! I was -"

His laugh was warm and inviting, and for some odd reason I felt less of an idiot. "I might need only a few stitches, so no harm done."

My eyes flew open. Maybe it was the car key I was holding that accidentally stabbed him in my surprise. "Wha'?!" I gasped, looking over his neck and chest for any seeping blood.

"Sorry, I'm teasing you. Can I buy that for you?" The more he spoke, the more I noticed how deep and sexy his voice was.

I wasn't accustomed to men drying me drinks, not in a bar or in a gas station. "Thanks, but no. I got it."

His smile suddenly turned into a very mischievous grin. "That you do, I must say," he purred.

Aside from being bought a drink, I also wasn't used to being flirted with, especially in such a brazen manner.

"Well, I have to get on the road," I started, but he didn't move out of my way.

"That was quite a show you put on."

I frowned, wondering what the hell he was talking about when it dawned on me: He must be the trucker that watched me masturbate! My cheeks burned, and I wanted to jump into the soda cooler, not from the heat but to hide from him.

"Oh, um, yeah, well," I stuttered, not sure what the fuck to say.

He smiled again, which set me back at ease just a bit. "Have you eaten lunch?" he asked.

"No, I haven't. I was going to stop by Cracker Barrel in Ashland." I don't know why I answered him, but I just stood there instead of running off screaming like a frightened little girl.

"Oh, what a shame. I've been driving all morning, and I could use the company, after I shower first. I was raised with manners, after all."

"That's a nice offer, but I don't think so." 

Besides, Mistress would never allow it. I was Hers, and she wouldn't even consider sharing me, other than with Master.

"Tell you what," he said. "I'm going to go take a shower. When I'm done, I'll look for you in Denny's. If I don't see you, I'll know you went on your way. If you're there, we'll have lunch. I look much better once I'm all cleaned up, I promise."

You don't look so bad now. Well, would it hurt to ask Mistress? All she could say was no. I've heard no more than once. I was certain I would hear it again.

I nodded but still couldn't move. 

"I'm Joe Keplar. What's your name?" he asked. 

"Jeannie Almy." Sure, it wasn't my last name, but I wasn't about to give it to him.

"Well, Jeannie, I really hope to see you again," he said, putting out his hand.

Switching my wallet to my other hand, I put my hand in his, and it immediately got lost. It was warm, too, almost like a wire that went straight to my pussy.

"We'll see," I finally mumbled and walked away.

Paying for my soda, feeling more like a moron minute by minute when I couldn't count out the right change, I went outside, lit a cigarette with a very shaky hand and called Mistress to ask for Her permission; Master was out of town and in a business meeting, so I couldn't call Him. Unfortunately, I got Her voice mail, but I still left a message for Her to call me, that a man invited me to lunch and I needed Her permission. 

Going back and forth in my mind whether I should go in the restaurant and wait for Her call, and ultimately Joe, I finished the cigarette determined not to let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have lunch with a man - a man that actually asked me, and a man that watched me masturbate.

I waited another ten minutes before I went back into the restaurant and scooted into the booth, making sure the hem of my skirt wouldn't expose my sex to him. I ordered cheese sticks, a little upset I didn't think to ask Joe what he would have wanted to drink. But then again, at the time I was leaning toward running to my car and leaving, racing out of the parking lot, leaving tire marks on the pavement.

Fifteen minutes later, I was just finishing my third stick when Joe approached the table. "I'm glad you decided to stay. May I sit?"

Almost choking, I managed to nod to tell him he could. He was right, too. Now that he was showered, his hair still damp, he did look much better. He was wearing a blue and gray checkered shirt with blue jeans... tight jeans. He even shaved his scraggly, two-day old beard, which made his smile seem even bigger and warmer. 

After the waitress left with his drink order, I told him, "I'm waiting for..." I couldn't outright tell him it was Mistress to get her approval, but what the fuck difference did it make? It was lunch and only lunch. I couldn't get pregnant or catch any STDs from having lunch with a stranger. 

"I'm waiting for my Mistress to call with her permission to have lunch, so I might not be able to stay," I blurted out.

His right eyebrow rose curiously. "Mistress? You're a lesbian?"

I smiled nervously. "No, no, but I am bi." Before I could stop myself, I told him I was Mistress's sub and that we are both subs to Master.

"Hmm. Interesting. I used to dabble in D/s back in my younger days, as a Dom."

If I didn't have butterflies before he showed up, his confession certainly made them flit in a fury then. Luckily the waitress brought his drink, but I told her we'd need a minute before we ordered, only so that it would give me a few more minutes for Mistress to call.

After she left, Joe leaned forward and whispered, "So, I have to ask: Did you come when you masturbated?"

Again my cheeks flushed, and I wasn't going to answer him. It was none of his business. So I stuffed another cheese stick in my mouth to keep me from rambling again, like I do when I'm backed in a corner or extremely nervous.

Thankfully, my cell phone rang. It was Mistress. At this point, though, I was ready to walk out the door and never give meeting Joe a second thought.

"Hello, Mistress," I answered. 

I was beginning to slip out of the booth when Joe gently grabbed my wrist and mouthed, Stay, please. 

The loneliness in his eyes made me cave in and relax. "Mistress, I called because I wanted to know if I... I was, um, playing with myself and a trucker was watching, and I'm sitting with him now. He invited me to lunch, and I want to ask if it would be okay."

"Well," she replied, her strong, sexy Australian accent made the butterflies practically fly out of my throat. "It wouldn't hurt, I suppose. Do you only want to have lunch with him?"

Again I blushed and tried to avoid Joe's eyes, which I could feel searing directly into me. Hesitantly, I replied, "No, Ma'am. You know about the... you know."

"I see. You want to fuck him, my pet?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Oh, you are my dirty little girl, aren't you?" She never gave me a chance to answer Her. "He is there with you now?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Give him your phone," she ordered.

Again, I had no choice in the matter. I handed Joe my phone and took a long pull of the SunKist, thinking it would wake me up from this obvious wet dream I was having. It didn't work. It should have been Whisky.

"Hello... yes, Margaret... My name is Joe Keplar. I work for Miller Shipping... She was definitely hot, and she's a very beautiful woman..." 

There was a long pause, and I squirmed uncomfortably, hating not knowing what Mistress was saying to Joe.

Giving me a wicked grin, he told her, "I would love to. I'll take good care of her."

He didn't end the call but handed me the phone. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Pet, I give you permission to have lunch with him and allow him to pay. As a thank you, you will fuck him in his cab."

I wanted to protest, scream into the phone that She was crazy! But that would surely be the death of me if I ever disrespected Her in such a manner, so I bit my tongue. I had to be honest with myself, my pussy was dripping wet. 

"Yes, Mistress," I croaked, avoiding my eyes with Joe again.

"Get My collar and wear it to remind yourself you are still Mine. Do you understand?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes, Mistress. It's in my purse."

"You will listen to all of his instructions. I will call you shortly. You may not come until I command you to. Do you understand?"

I hate when She holds back my orgasms. With Master, He'd make me come over and over and over again, never allowing me to stop to catch my breath. With Mistress, I was learning She had to have complete control over everything that my body did. I gave them to Her willingly and happily.

"Yes, Mistress. I understand."

"Good. Do you trust me, little one?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

With me, as it was for Master, trust was a very difficult issue for me to deal with at first. Thankfully, They were both patient and understanding, and it became natural and easy to trust Them.

"Good. Enjoy yourself."

Before I could say anything else, She hung up. Still avoiding Joe's stare, the waitress returned, and we quickly gave her our lunch orders. 

When she left, he said, "She has a very sexy accent, doesn't she?" I nodded anxiously. "So, she's given you permission to eat with me. She's made my day."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that.

"Jeannie, look at me," he said.

No one ever talked to me like that, much less order me around, but Mistress and Master. I had to build up my courage to look at him. Reaching across the table, he took my hand again and held it.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I want you just as badly as you want me. I will be honest with you. I've never picked up a woman and had sex with her in my cab. But it has been a fantasy of mine since I started trucking."

I was embarrassed as hell, that was for sure. Again, I couldn't think of a damned thing to say.

Once the food came and we started to eat, we talked quite a bit, him more so. He was 36 and from New Jersey, though he seemed to have lost his accent. He'd been trucking since he was 21, found the traffic aggravating, but the driving itself was a way for him to find the meaning of life. He had yet to find it, though. 

He and his sub married when they were just 19, but she'd cheated on him while they were in college. They divorced by the time he was 25, and he'd been trucking ever since. 

Overall, as the discussion carried on, I was slowly beginning to like him, and I couldn't bear to look away from the intensity in his eyes.

"So, tell me, have you ever gotten in a car accident while driving and masturbating?" he asked flirtatiously.

I had just taken the last swallow of the SunKist, and this time I did choke on it. Hitting my collarbone, like that would clear it, I squeaked, "I've done it once before, but it was late at night and no other car was around me to watch."

"Do you like to be watched, Jeannie?"

At this point, I'd totally lost my inhibitions, and it didn't matter what he did or did not know about me. "Yeah, I do. On a website I'd turn the camera on and masturbate for them. I never had more than 50 in the room at the same time, though. And then you'd have morons that would tell me what to do. I'd think, 'Hey, I was doing it for me, not you, you assholes.'" I laughed. 

"One man, and only one man, I watched him while he... stroked his cock and I played with my... clit. Right after he came he ordered me to come, and I did, hard. He was shocked I'd actually come when he told me to. It was... exciting as fucking hell."

He laughed. "I bet it was. Do you automatically come when told to?"

I nodded. "After four years with Master, I come every time He tells me."

"But I can't tell you when to come?"

I shook my head. "No. Only Mistress."

He leaned forward and whispered, "So, I can tease your body and torment you any way I want, and you will not come?"

Again, I shook my head. I knew it was impossible not to come, depending on what his definition of 'torture' was. 

He looked away briefly, just as the waitress came by to check on us. We'd finished eating, so he asked for the check. 

After she walked away with the money, Joe asked, "Jeannie, are you ready to go?"

My mind went in a million directions. I shook my head and said yes at the same time. 

In response, he shook his head and said seriously, "No, Jeannie. I want to hear you say you want me, that you want to fuck me. We won't do this if you don't want to."

Now was the moment of truth. Yes, I wanted to fuck him, but this was so against everything I believed in. I also had to remember that I had to trust Mistress, and if she thought Joe was safe, then I'd have to trust her... and Joe.

"I... I do want to fuck you, Joe."

He smiled, slipped out of the booth and reached out for my hand. Taking it, I hated that my hand was shaking, but it wasn't from nerves. I was so ready, horny and wet that I was afraid I'd left a spot on the bench, not to mention a wet spot in the back of my dress.

Putting his hand in the small of my back, he led me out of the restaurant and into the noon-time sun. I prayed he had A/C in his cab, then I prayed he had condoms. When I asked him, he reassured me the A/C worked properly, and that he'd bought condoms before he joined me in the restaurant. That made me relax a lot.

Approaching his truck, he got up on the two steps leading to the driver's door, unlocked and opened the door, then stood beside me again. "Ladies first."

Knowing exactly what he was up to - waiting for the view of my ass as I climbed inside - I gave him the show he wanted, comforted in knowing Mistress allowed me to be with him.

As gracefully as I could, I took hold of the bars and pulled myself up, at the same time looking where my next step would be. The thing was, he never laid a hand on me, but I knew he had to be looking up the dress. That alone made my pussy tingle, and then the thought occurred to me that I was probably dripping down my legs from being so fucking wet.

"Head between the seats to the cab." His voice was right behind me, and my heart fluttered knowing that we were actually doing this.

I jumped a little when the door closed behind him, but a light in the cab came on so I could see where I was going. My mouth dropped a little when I looked around the space, which was no higher than six feet. Everything was gray, from the walls to the blanket on the twin-sized mattress of the daybed and the plentiful small cabinets over it, even a small sink and fridge, but it still had style and it wasn't drab at all. There was a TV in the corner adjacent to a small table. "Make yourself comfortable, Jeannie," he said. 




Driving Adventure



As I sat on the daybed, I told him, "Wow! It's much nice than I ever pictured them."

"Thank you. I did the work myself," he replied as he sat down beside me. 

"It's great, really. It almost feels like camping."

He smiled. "That's what I thought too."

Looking at him nervously, I wasn't sure exactly what to do at this point. "Jeannie, "There's no need to be nervous. I want you to relax and enjoy this."

I hadn't realized I was so easy to read.

"I will ask you one last time: Is this something you really want?"

With the tone of his voice, he sent me instantly into submissive mode, but I felt like I was being a traitor to Mistress. But She had, after all, given Her okay, and this was something I really, really wanted to do.

His laughter caught me off guard. "Good. I'm glad to hear you want this as badly as I do." 

I looked at him dumbfounded, not even realizing I'd said the last part out loud. 

"I do not want you to feel you are betraying your Master and Mistress, so I do not expect you to address me with any title. But I do, however, expect you to listen to me and follow my instructions. Your Mistress wants this for you, as well. Do you agree?"

"Yes, Sir. I do."

"Good. Not even a sir. You may call me Joe. What is your safe word?"

"With Mistress and Master, it's asparagus. But I'd rather use... um, spinach with you."

He smiled. "Fine. Put your Mistress's collar on."

I stumbled in my purse for the collar and put it on. As always, my nipples erupted from anticipation of what we were about to do, and the knowledge that I still belonged to Mistress.

"Remove your sandals and stand before me."

Gathering as much courage as I could, I kicked my shoes off and stood in front of him, not really sure what to do with my hands. Considering I was to give him the respect of a Dom, I put my hands in the small of my back, spread my feet hip-width apart and bowed my head.

Scooting to the edge of the daybed, he leaned forward and ran his hands from my calves to the back of my thighs, then up and under my dress to my ass cheeks. The hem rested on his forearms, so he kept raising his arms until the dress was over my head. Pulling it off, he threw it to the floor and looked over my body with a crooked grin. This time I kept my arms beside me.

"No bra?" he asked as his hands explored my stomach down to the outside of my thighs.

"No. Master doesn't like me to wear them."

"Good man. Your tits are exquisite." 

He cupped my breasts in his huge hands but didn't pinch my nipples. Having the contact felt good, and I wanted so much more - patience isn't one of my strongest traits. He finally ran his thumbs over them, making them perk up more than they were before I even got in the cab.

"No undies?" he asked as his hands moved to my hips and caressed my skin.

I shook my head. "Mistress won't allow me to wear them."

"Good woman. How wet are you?"

My words caught in the back of my throat.

"Let me find out for myself. Put your left foot on the bed, over my thigh."

Hell! I knew if I did that I would surely leave a puddle at my feet. But I did as he said, exposing my pussy and giving him easy access. Excruciatingly slowly, he ran his left hand up my thigh until his fingertips grazed against my cunt. 

"Fuck. You are sopping wet."

Nodding like an idiot, I held my breath as he skimmed the pad of his finger over my pussy until it silkily slid up to my clit between the folds of my lips. Circling at the base, my knees buckled under the intense sensation, and I could feel my clit throb. 

Moaning softly, I whispered, "Suck my nipple, please."

He looked up at me with a sly grin. "Bossy, aren't you?" 

He then attacked my nipple, and at the same time he inserted his fingers inside me and hooked his fingers directly over my g-spot. My body, like a magnet, was drawn to him, and I put my hand on his shoulder. In response, he growled and bit the hard nub with his teeth, pulling back a little until there was a 'pop' from his lips.

"Hmmph. Fuck. Oh, fuck! Don'... don't! You're going to make me... hmmphgh... come!" I whined, holding my breath, as if that would hold back my orgasm.

He kept his fingers still, tilted his head back and planted the hottest, heaviest kiss on my lips, his tongue trailing along my bottom lip. Our lips flittered together, his tongue circling the tip of mine. Being so close to him now, I reached down and grabbed his cock through his jeans, pressing up and down a few times until he grunted.

Our lips parted, and his lips skirted over my jaw to my neck; I eagerly angled my head to the right to give him better access. I shivered, but I wasn't cold. His warm, moist lips felt so good on my skin. He then kissed me between my breasts to my stomach, and I sighed heavily.

At this point, I cursed out Mistress in my head for taking her sweet time in calling me with permission to come. I wouldn't last another minute!

"Lie on the bed, bitch," he snarled.

Normally, I hate that word, but when I'm in the right frame of mind, as I was then, it always makes my pussy tingle with excitement.

As he stood up, I sat on the daybed - my arms behind me, which accentuated my breasts, my knees parted - and watched him as he swiftly unbuttoned his shirt. He had a nice chest, just a little hair, and not overly tight muscles. Throwing the shirt on the table, he quickly unbuttoned the jeans, and in one hasty motion, pulled them down, along with his tightie-whities. Stepping out of them and pushing them aside, it took all I had to keep my mouth closed. He was a good seven inches and very thick. 

"Lie down," he said.

I laid down on my back and put my right foot flat on the mattress and spread my legs, leaving my left leg straight. 

"I need that hot mouth of yours around my cock."

I grinned bashfully as he came closer. When he was within reach, I took his cock in my hand and ran it up and down his shaft a few times before I opened my mouth to take him. Gratefully, he didn't ram his cock in my mouth but allowed me to take him slowly and as deeply as I could.

He groaned then ran his fingers through my hair over my forehead to the back of my head, where he intertwined his fingers through my short, cropped hair. "That feels amazing, Jeannie. Hmm, yes, that's it. Look at me."

With just my eyes, I peered up at him and trembled by his expression. It was so full of lust that I took his head to the very back of my throat. He groaned again and ran his flattened hand over my crotch, his middle finger flicking my clit. I moaned at how good it felt, but I knew I would come at any minute. Working his cock over really well, I fucked his cock until I tasted his pre-cum in my mouth. 

Gratefully, my phone finally rang. "Don't stop. Keep doing what you're doing." 

He picked up the phone and read the name. "It's your Mistress." Clicking a button, he answered, "Hello, Margaret." He paused. "She has her lips wrapped around my cock at the moment... Oh, she definitely feels good. She knows how to handle my dick very well... No, she hasn't come... Alright."

He pressed another button then set it on the table. "Jeannie, can you hear Me?" Mistress asked.

"Hmm hmmph," I replied, keeping Joe's dick in my mouth.

"How close are you?"

Unfortunately, I had to slip his cock out of my mouth to answer Her. "I'm very close, Mistress," I told Her breathlessly.

"That she is. She is dripping wet," Joe said.

"Oh, you've seen nothing yet. I suggest you put a towel underneath her ass, then will you eat her out for me?"

He looked over my face then grinned. "I would love to."

He hesitated a moment then set the phone beside my hip so Mistress could hear us, grabbed a towel from the cabinet overhead, placed it under my hips then got on his knees facing me. Grabbing my ankles, he turned me around and threw my legs over his shoulders. Hungrily, he licked my cunt up to my clit, flicking his tongue over it with a little pressure, nibbling, suckling it.

"Oooh, ggggod!" I whimpered and threw my hands against the wall.

"My little naughty slut," Mistress started, "Does it feel good what he's doing?"

"Hmmgph, fuck, yes, Mistress."

"I can tell. I want you to talk to me while Joe's going down on you. Tell me how good his tongue feels as he laps at your clit," Mistress instructed.

"Yessss, Mistress," I grunted as he put his fingers inside my pussy. Groaning, barely able to speak, I said, "He's got his... fingers inside me and... hmmmph... they're right on my... ohh, ohhh, my g-spot."

"Good. Good, my pet. I've got my own finger on my clit. I'm as wet as you are."

I smiled. "Oh, Mistress. I wish it were... mmmmph... Oh, oh! Don't stop!" I suddenly screamed and pressed against the wall harder, pushing me closer to him.

"Don't you dare come, Jeannie! I'm going to count to five. Then, and only then will you come for me. Understand?"

Her words barely registered in my ringing ears as I fought with all of my might to hold back my orgasm. "Yyyess, Missstressss," I finally answered.

"Good girl."

It was a moment before she started counting, and Joe hadn't let up one fucking bit as he teased and licked and sucked my clit while his fingers tapped my g-spot, alternating between finger-fucking me. 

My whole body shivered and jerked in ecstasy, and I was on the verge of coming, and coming hard.

"Two," I heard Mistress say.

I groaned, barely able to hang on. "Hmm, Joe, Joe!" I screamed. "Please, Mistress! I... Please! I need to come now!"

"Hold it!" She demanded. "Three."

I tossed my head back and forth and let up on pushing my pussy into him, but he only got a firm hold of my thighs and held on tight.

"Fuck. FUCK!"

"Oh, Jeannie, I'm close too. Four."

Mumbling and moaning, barely able to catch my breath, I put my hand on the back of Joe's head, my orgasm coming closer and closer. My tits were electrified, as if I'd stuck my finger in a socket.

"Are you ready, pet?" She asked.

Knowing full well she was being sadistic, I panted, "Yes, yes, Mistress! Oh, Joe! Please! Please! Say five. Say FIVE!"

I think I heard her chuckle before I heard her say, "Five. Come for me, Jeannie! NOW!"

I felt Joe's fingers dig into my inner thighs and he finger-fucked my pussy, hard. My orgasm shot through me, and I screamed like I'd never screamed before, panting heavily and hard as I came. 

I also heard the phone crackle with Mistress's own scream, as she always does when she comes. 

I was mortified when I felt tons of cum squirt out, but I heard Joe say, "Give it to me, Jeannie." 

Listening to the both of them made me orgasm again, but it wasn't as strong. "Oh, shit!"

"Jeannie, that was incredible to watch. Mistress should be proud," he told me.

Trying to catch my breath, I could only nod my head. 

"Oh, I'm very proud of my Jeannie," Mistress said. "That was wonderful. I came with you."

"Hmm, good, Mistress. I'm glad."

"Thank you, Joe," She said.

He let go of my legs and gently put them on the mattress, so I laid on my side as he picked up the phone. "It was all my pleasure," Joe said.

"Joe, she is all yours now," Mistress told him. "Jeannie, I want you to call me before you leave his cab."

"Yes Mistress," I muttered. "Thank You, Mistress."

"Oh, thank you. Well done. Have fun, you two."

"Oh, we will," Joe replied and ended the call. Looking at me, he said, "Scootch over."

Smiling, I was able to press myself against the wall, then he laid down beside me, his arm under my head and his other over my waist; he wrapped his leg over mine. 

"I'm impressed," he said as he brushed my bangs.

Breathlessly, I mumbled, "I always come like that. You were... great."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm not done with you yet, but for now, just relax."

It was hard to relax when he started to run his hand up and down my body. While my body was still a little numb from the orgasm, it was slowly waking up again from his touch. I might have come, but I was definitely ready for more. But I took his advice and allowed him to touch me for several minutes.

When I couldn't take it anymore, and I was breathing relatively normally, I sat up and asked where the condoms were. He pointed to the table, and as I looked there were three by his shirt he'd laid on there earlier. I reached over for it, and my breast just happened to be right at the level of his mouth. 

He lifted his head up and took my entire nipple, aerola and all and sucked hard. I gasped, but managed to grab the package and open it. "Okay, I need that back," I teased.

Groaning, he let go, so I took out the condom and slipped it over his long, hard, throbbing cock. Then I threw my body on top of his, placed my legs on either side of his hips and slowly sat down on his still-hard cock. I groaned his name as he filled me completely.

"Ohmygggod, Joe. Your cock feels so fucking good," I managed to whisper.

He sighed heavily and grinned wickedly at me, which matched my own grin. "And your cunt is so hot and tight."

I nodded and began to rock my hips back and forth, but his cock stayed inside me the whole time. I did it more for the fact his pubic hair rubbed against my clit, and it helped get my juices flowing again. Tightening my PC muscles, I pressed my breasts against his chest and kissed him, still moving my hips back and forth.

"Don' let go of my cock."

Shaking my head, I sat up, put my left hand on the cabinet beside my head and put my hand on his chest to steady myself. Then I rode him for several minutes, the orgasm ever so slowly building up inside of me. My heart was racing, my breathing raspy and heavy.

"Oh, baby, fuck. Keep that up and I'll... come before you," he groaned.

Being on top, I was in control - of how fast I fucked him, how deep I took him. Smiling down on him, I gave him the sluttiest grin I could imagine. "I want to make you come. But not yet. I love feeling your cock inside me."

He furrowed his eyebrows, tension lines grew on his forehead. "Shut up and fuck me."

With that, I fucked him with abandon, lifting my hips up until just the tip of his cock was inside me then sat back down on him, my moaning growing louder and louder. He reached up and took hold of my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples.

"Hmm, yes," I murmured. "Don' stop."

My torso was burning, yearning for a climax, one that I needed while I was masturbating only a few hours earlier. As I came down on him, he thrust his hips up, forcing his cock even deeper inside me. I screamed his name and threw my chest against his, so he wrapped his arms around my waist.

For several minutes, our hips crashed together in a fevered passion, both grunting and breathing heavily into each other's ears. Our lips kissed and licked and lapped at each other's neck, both lost in what we were feeling.

With a throaty growl, he beseeched, "I'm almost... there."

"Hmm, so am I. Fuck me, Joe. Fuck me!" I screamed.

He thrust his cock inside me over and over, and I met each one; I took all of him, every inch of his cock throbbed against my pussy walls.

"Yes, oh, yes! I'm... I'm almost... ohhh, OH! FUCK ME!"

Suddenly, he grunted into my ear, clearly in the throes of his orgasm. I could feel his legs kick out from under me as his body tensed the same time. His face tightened into his orgasm face, or so I assumed, and his jaw dropped.

"Yes, Joe, come. I'm right behind you."

Feeling his dick expand as he climaxed, mine quickly followed. With him grunting repeatedly and me moaning loudly, we rode out our orgasms together, our chests flush against the others. 

"Oh, crap," I murmured as I collapsed all of my weight on him and buried my face in the nape of his neck, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Joe, oh, that was..."

"Fucking fantastic?" he chimed in.

I chuckled. "Better. Much better orgasm than my car. Thanks."

Now it was his turn to laugh. "I would hope so. And you're welcome."

Then my words struck me rough. "I didn't... I don't know why I thanked you. That sounded -"

"Fine with me." Taking my face in his hands, he kissed my nose. "I should thank you. I haven't been with a woman in... eight months."

I kicked my head back and looked at him. "It must be lonely on the road."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It is. But I do love the road. Now, I've got to get this condom off me."

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Right. Sorry," I stuttered and lifted my hips then rolled against the wall again, putting my head in my hand.

I watched as he stood, removed the condom on his semi-erection and threw it in the trash. He stepped to me, and at first I thought he wanted me to give him another blow job, but when I heard the cabinet above me open and he pulled down a washcloth, I calmed down. 

He went to the sink, and I could not help but look at his tight, abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous ass. If I didn't have to get back on the road, knowing for sure I would get stuck in traffic in Fredericksburg, I would have fucked him all afternoon.

I had just put my legs on the floor to dress when he turned back around and shook his head. "Oh, no. Lie back down."

"Joe, look, I've got to get -"

He smiled. "Shh. I will not let you leave my humble cab without cleaning you up. Can I at least do that?"

I couldn't believe how incredibly sweet he was. "Sure." I smiled then laid back down. 

He wet the washcloth, waited a moment for the water to get hot, then got on his knees in front of me. Gently, yet with affection, he ran the cloth over my inner thighs. "Is it too hot?"

"No. It's fine. Thank you, Joe."

"Oh, honey," he said, continuing to clean my thighs. "Again, it is all my pleasure." 

After he cleaned me, he sat down beside me and took my hand. "Jeannie, you have no idea how glad I am I met you today. You are an incredible person. Margaret is very lucky to have you as her sub." 

My cheeks did not blush that time. "And you've been kind... and sweet." 

I no longer had any shame or embarrassment sitting naked beside this complete stranger... but then again, he was no longer a stranger.

Reaching for my dress on the floor, he handed it to me. I slipped it on over my head as he got on his own shirt. Then he handed me the phone. "Call your Mistress."

Nodding, I looked up Her number and dialed. "Mistress, Joe and I are... I'll be leaving in a few minutes."

She told me to put Her on speaker. After I did, She said, "Did you have a good time, Jeannie?"

Looking up at Joe, I gave him a smile. "I sure did. Thank you, Mistress."

"Joe, did my sub treat you well?"

"She absolutely did," he replied as he put on his jeans. "I wish I had all afternoon with her."

I was thrilled he wanted more time with me. I sure would have enjoyed a few more hours with him.

"She has a few hours' drive to come back to me. Thank you for allowing her to have her fantasy."

"Oh, she gave me mine," he replied and winked at me.

"Email me when you get home, Jeannie."

"Yes Mistress."

"Joe, I'll see you in October at George Mason's Homecoming game?"

"Oh, you definitely will," he replied as he looked over my face.

Mistress knew him! She'd set me up! I'd totally forgotten she'd called me right after I'd gotten on 64. Standing up with my hands on my hips, about to blast the fuck out of him - and Mistress, Joe said, "Oh, Margaret. You'd best explain yourself, now," he said urgently.

"Jeannie, calm down, little one. I remembered your fantasy, and since we won't be able to get together for a few weeks, with me to be out of town and all, I thought I'd... surprise you."

I had no idea what to think. I sat back down heavily on the daybed and gripped the edge. "You two... know each other?" 

"Yes," Mistress answered. Joe sat down beside me as She continued. "We went to college together, graduated the same year. But we were never together." "Are you angry, Jeannie?" Joe asked, his voice tense.




Driving Adventure



I looked at him dumbfounded, confused, hurt. Then I looked over his face. It was soft, gentle, caring. Yes, Mistress set this up, and Joe did not hurt me. What She had to do to set this up. I couldn't be angry with him because he had fulfilled my wild fantasy. And I couldn't be angry with Mistress because I now had 100 percent trust that She would never, ever put me in harm's way. 

"Well, shit," I mumbled. "I have to say I'm flabbergasted. But... no, Joe, Mistress. I'm not angry."

"Oh, sub of little faith," Mistress snickered. "Joe? Make sure my pet gets off in one piece. We have a lot to catch up on in a few months."

Joe finally smiled. "That we do, Margaret. That we do."

As he promised Mistress, Joe walked me back to my car. I threw my purse on the passenger seat and turned to say goodbye. But it was his turn to surprise me.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and gave me a huge hug. Pulling away, he kept his arms around me. "You will make this trucking route much, much easier. All I'll be seeing is your smile and hear you laugh."

Once again, I blushed. "I have to admit, I'm glad Mistress chose you. I hope you had a good time."

He nodded and kissed my forehead. "Oh, Jeannie, this wasn't about me. It was about you. I hope you had a good time."

"I did. I did, three times." I chuckled at my stupid comment.

"I love your sense of humor. Drive carefully."

"You, too."

Placing his hands on my neck, he kissed me gently, and believe it or not, I was getting hot all over again. Groaning, I pulled away. "Joe, if we keep this up -"

He smiled so warmly it touched me. "I know. I know. We'd never leave this parking lot."

I laughed again and gave him another kiss. "Take care of yourself."

"I will."

Getting in my car, giving him one final peek at my crotch as I let the hem slip up, he closed the door behind me. Shaking his head, he said, "You are such a tease."

I nodded then started the car. "Master and Mistress tell me that all the time."

"Bye, sweetie."

"Bye, Joe."

Driving away, I watched him in the rear view mirror until I hit the exit ramp and got back on 64. Oh, what a long drive home it would be.



Driving and Dreaming



********

I was driving today, to meet a friend for lunch, and daydreaming about my lover as I drove. When I got back home, I tried to describe that dream in writing, intending to send it to him in a note, and the following is the result.

Like some of my previous works, I don't consider this story to be a poem. This format is just my way of talking directly to you. I hope that by reading it slowly, one line at a time, you can hear my voice speak to you.

********

I was driving today, to meet a friend for lunch, about an hour away.

I had a series of romantic melodies playing on the car stereo,

the sky was blue and the sun was shining off the fresh snow. 

Life was good, and I was content.

My mind started to wander as I thought about much I longed to be with you.

I started thinking about how nice it would be to take a shower with you, 

in one of those large stone-tiled stalls, complete with a bench seat,

and multiple showerheads spraying us with warm water from all directions. 

In my mind, I saw a skylight in the bathroom letting in a ray of sunshine,

and I could almost smell the tropical heat building in the plant-filled room.

I imagined entering the bathroom and being greeted by a waft of steam,

and the sounds of you humming under the spray.

I could see the silhouette of your naked body, your back to me,

your head tilted back as you let the water beat down on your chest.

I pictured myself silently and slowly stripping off my clothes,

folding them neatly and placing them on the counter,

and then undoing the knot that held my hair, to let it fall around my shoulders.

I then saw myself opening the door to the shower and slipping inside,

grinning at the look of pleased surprise that flitted across your face.

My hands caressed your shoulders, touching you gently,

and I let my breasts graze your back, 

my hardening nipples dragging across your warm skin.

My fingers trailed down your arms and intertwined with your fingers,

as I moved my pelvis up against your warm buttocks,

and I nuzzled the crook of your neck.

For a moment I just stood there, molding myself to your back,

circling my arms around your waist,

tracing my tongue across the tops of your shoulders,

enjoying the firmness of your back against my front.

But then I disentangled myself, 

and reached for a pair of sea sponges hanging from a hook on the wall.

I squirted generous dollops of fragrant soap on the sponges,

and began running them over your upper arms, 

across your shoulders, and down your spine.

I imagined that while I wriggled my chest against your back,

my hands reached around your sides, 

sliding the sponges across your chest,

their texture a pleasant roughness against your nipples. 

I dragged the sponges south, over your abdomen,

across your hips, and back to your navel,

before descending into your curls,

and swirling the sponges around the base of your cock,

and over and around your tightening balls.

Then I had this vision of suddenly spinning you around,

so that you were facing me, and pressing myself against you,

pushing you back against the wall,

sliding my soapy breasts over your chest as I kissed you.

I used my body to pin you there, making you stay still, 

as I slid my hands down your waist,

and I sank down to my knees in front of you.

I thought of how I'd let the warm spray rinse away the soap;

and then I'd take a bottle of baby oil and coat my hands, 

and dribble some around your thighs, 

and through your pubic hair, letting it run down, 

so that my hands could glide over and around your body.

I'd start from inside your thighs, 

sliding my hands up and across your pelvis, 

over your hip bones,

around and down your buttocks,

along the crease of your cheeks,

before sliding back to the front, into the curls of your groin.

I'd use one hand to cup your scrotum, 

rolling its warm slipperiness in my hand,

while my other hand would wrap around your shaft,

pulling it downwards, pointing towards me,

so that as I stroked you, I could also taste you.

I would use my tongue to lick the underside of your cockhead,

finding the bottom of your slit, 

running my tongue along it,

over the top, and around the ridge,

until I could wrap my mouth around the head,

and draw it deep inside of me, gently sucking,

as my hand continued to glide up and down your shaft.

And I imagined looking up at you, 

seeing you leaning back against the wall, 

eyes closed, 

your fingers tangled in my hair, 

and I could feel the water running over both of us.

I thought of how your cock would feel in my hand,

as it started to throb and twitch,

the way your balls would begin to tighten in my hand,

and how your cum would taste as the first drops oozed onto my tongue.

Then I thought of letting go of your scrotum,

and pushing your thighs apart,

so my hand could slide up behind you,

and gently part your cheeks.

With one hand still stroking your shaft,

and my mouth still caressing the head of your cock,

I could then slide a finger of my other hand up along your crease,

teasing that crinkled rim of your anus,

moving in slow, insistent circles.

I would then push inside...slowly....

and curve my finger just so,

before moving it in...and out...and in again,

in rhythm with my hand stroking your shaft.

By this point, I think I'd be moaning,

and eager and soooooo excited,

as I listened to you groan and squeak,

and I watched the muscles in your legs tense.

I would feel your hands tighten in my hair,

as your cock began to swell,

and I'd cry out when I felt you begin to pulse.

I imagined drawing back to watch your seed erupt,

letting it splash over me, dribbling down my breasts,

to be washed away by the shower.

I would feel my pussy tighten and spasm,

and I'd find my own release just by witnessing yours.

I thought of how I'd rise from my knees, 

sliding my hands back up your chest,

pressing myself against you once more.

Wrapping my arms tightly around you,

I would kiss you again, smiling against your mouth,

and whisper "Good Morning".

Needless to say, by the time I arrived at my lunch date, I was rather flushed, but man, what a pleasant way to pass the time while driving!

*******

I hope you enjoyed this. As always, I welcome your feedback, good or bad. 

*******



Driving Companion



My name is Bill. I'm middle-aged and married. My life is as conventional as you would expect. Nothing exciting. 

I'm a senior manager in my company. Most of my work is in an office, but I sometimes travel to visit certain places relevant to my industry. Unfortunately the travel is not glamorous; just tedious and sometimes stressful. I'm usually just moving from one point to the next and can barely catch my breath.

Recently I needed to visit a facility in a small town a few hundred miles away called Brownville. The work looked interesting but getting there was a challenge. Normally I fly everywhere, but Brownville was remote enough to require flying the other way first, a long layover, another flight, and then a couple of hours in a rental car - almost an entire day lost. It was almost as fast to drive there directly. So I decided I would treat myself to a solo road trip, something I hadn't done for a long time. Like most men in my situation, my life is very busy with responsibilities at home and work. I rarely get time to myself. 

The day of departure came. I left very early to beat traffic, and was soon cruising out of my own city. It was going to be a warm sunny day and looked great for a drive. I rolled down the windows, turned up the radio, and enjoyed the freedom of the road. 

The first hours went fast, and by nine o'clock I was passing through a well-known college town. I was starting to feel the effects of my early start, and thought it was a good time to stop and have some coffee and more breakfast. I turned off the interstate and soon pulled into a funky-looking place that looked good. I ordered bacon and eggs from a friendly waitress and was soon enjoying them while checking my phone for the messages that were already piling up.

The restaurant was busy with students and others just waking up at nine in the morning. Nearby was a booth with three women in their twenties, laughing and talking away. They were attractive but half my age, so I didn't pay too much attention to them. But as one of them got up to use the restroom, I noticed her shirt said "There's Lots of Color in Brownville."

It caught my eye. If you haven't already checked, there aren't many Brownvilles.

As she was coming back, I called over to her, pointed at her shirt and asked if she was from Brownville. She warily said yes. I explained that I was headed there, holding up some papers to prove it, and that I just wanted to mention the coincidence. She smiled and said it was indeed quite the coincidence, and returned to her friends.

They kept talking but sounded quieter. A few minutes later she came back, accompanied by her friends, and asked, "Are you really driving to Brownville today?"

I confirmed it, again showing the papers She asked why, and I explained my work and where I was from. She kept looking at the papers with my name, company and destination, and finally spoke again.

"Would you be able to give me a ride?"

She started her own explanation. She lived in the college town but was going home to Brownville for a wedding. The bus connections were no better than the planes. She was planning to leave that afternoon, but had to change buses and travel overnight to get to Brownville the next day. She was not looking forward to it. But if I was going there anyway, and could get her to Brownville that evening...

I certainly hadn't expected this and had been enjoying my solo ride. But who was I to say no? 

Her name was Kate. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties, about 5'5 with shoulder length brown hair. In most ways she was quite ordinary-looking, but I immediately found her very attractive. Perhaps that was just a dirty old man's thoughts after getting any attention from a young woman. And I'll admit that her Brownville T-shirt was on the tight side. 

But I what really got me was her face and expression. It radiated an unusual calmness and confidence. She was appropriately cautious about requesting a ride from a total stranger, but not nervous - or flirtatious - about it. She seemed very mature, and certainly was no goofy college girl.

I had no problem saying yes, and she smiled and thanked me.

Her friends were more skeptical, interrogating me to ensure I really was legit, but eventually gave their assent to their friend going off with a strange man almost twice their age. In fact my age was probably the tipping point - I exuded responsibility and maturity. At least on the surface. 

We left and I followed their car back to the house they all shared. Kate said she was mostly packed, so I waited outside, checking emails, and she soon emerged. I helped put her things in the trunk, and soon we were heading back to the interstate.

So my day had suddenly changed. Instead of the silent highway, I now had a driving companion on my road trip - a young woman. 

I thought after a few initial words Kate might ignore me and bury herself in her phone. But she kept chatting. For a moment I thought I had made a bad mistake and was doomed to have my ears talked off for the rest of the day. But I quickly realized my original hunch was right and that she was worth talking to. In short order I learned she was indeed 25, a graduate of the local college who had never left, and now worked for herself as a photographer and artist. She missed Brownville and rarely got back because it was too far. I told her a bit about myself, my family and job. The conversation was easy. 

Watching the road, I couldn't look much at Kate directly. But I couldn't help but keep thinking about how attractive my travelling companion was. As I said, she was rather plain in some ways and not an obvious hottie. But she had that striking presence and confidence that made her very appealing. 

Admittedly, the tight-fitting shirt helped, as I could clearly see the outline of her breasts, along with a pink bra strap peeking out on one shoulder. I had gotten some better looks at the rest of her earlier and knew she had a well-proportioned body and a nicely rounded ass. I actually felt my cock growing a bit as I thought about her tight jeans.

I had certainly lucked out. My life doesn't have a lot of excitement or surprises, and certainly not cute 25 year-olds jumping into my car. I have employees around that age, but try to keep them off-limits, even in my mind. But Kate was just a stranger, and exuded that unusual maturity and presence. She felt more like an equal than someone about half my age. So I felt a bit more free to wonder what she looked like with that tight T-shirt off, and maybe the pink bra and jeans as well. 

I certainly wasn't going to try anything. The whole reason she was with me was because she trusted me - a responsible older businessman. However, I wasn't going to tell my wife or anyone else about this either. It was just an exciting secret bonus for my road trip. And if I wanted to think about Kate with her clothes off, well, those were private thoughts for me to enjoy.

I asked about her work, and she promised to show me some of it when we stopped for lunch. She seemed passionate not only about the artistic side, but also the business aspects of trying to make a living from it - though it obviously wasn't very lucrative if she relied on buses and strangers for travel. But I got the idea she liked a challenge and being responsible for herself. 

I felt there wasn't much to say about myself, but she surprised me by asking a lot of good questions about my work and career. At first I gave the superficial, non-committal answers that a life of business networking trains you to make. Lots of cliches, forced optimism, and occasional lies. But she kept asking. And so soon I began to surprise myself by giving deeper and deeper answers. 

She was a very good listener, responding back in a way that showed she understood and was curious to know more. So I felt unusually relaxed with her. After so many years in the corporate world, disciplining myself to control everything I said, it felt good to open up so freely to someone about my choices, dreams and doubts. She was a random stranger, but again, there was just something about her...something that made me feel I could say anything without feeling guarded or defensive. So eventually I was quite comfortable telling her all kinds of things about my world, including how disillusioned and frustrated I sometimes felt. 

She asked if I regretted my career path. 

"Not really," I said. "But I always wonder if I'm really being true to myself. Rather than just trapped by the money and needing to provide for my family and all my obligations." 

"I think I understand," she said. "But you have to make choices, right?"

"You do. And live with them. Which I can do most of the time."

"You just sometimes wonder what else could have happened," she said.

"Exactly. You can always wonder," I replied. It felt good to say these things out loud.

After a while we started to talk more about families and relationships. I had assumed she was a small town farm girl, but her parents sounded more like latter-day hippies who had relocated to Brownville to follow their own passions. I began to understand Kate better. She had grown up in a loose but affirming environment that gave her confidence but also a remarkably grounded self-awareness. She was very curious about other people, but also had a strong sense of herself and who she was. So she felt no need to compare or justify herself with anyone else. Nor did she feel a need to judge others. I noticed that she only talked about people in positive ways.

I was really impressed. Most 25 year-olds I know are either narrowly focused career types, very judgmental and fixed in their own ways...or just immature and drifting. Kate was neither. Frankly, in many ways she was more mature than me. I never really grew out of the judgmental career type myself.

I mentioned I had married young and we had been together for many years. She continued her probing questions, though carefully, and again I surprised myself by opening up. I was soon telling Kate things I had never said to anyone else about my wife, my marriage and some of our struggles. Somehow I didn't feel like I was betraying secrets or saying anything inappropriate. It just followed from the openness that she radiated herself. Just like with my career, I wanted to tell her these things - things I never said to anyone. She was so patient and, like I said, never judgmental. 

I gently asked about her own romantic relationships. She said she had never had a "serious" relationship, though she had had "friends." She said the word slowly.

I mulled that over, staring out the windshield. Then, feeling totally open with her, I asked, "You mean like 'friends with benefits'?"

She laughed, "I think that's what the media calls it." 

I replied, "You don't?"

She said, "Why call it anything? It just feels right to be with a guy sometimes. But it would feel really weird making a commitment...like, potentially saying you would be together forever. I couldn't imagine doing that...yet."

"I did...and way before I was 25." I paused. She was quiet too. Then I continued, "It just seemed to be the right thing to do back then."

"Does it still?" 

I couldn't believe this woman. We had known each other less than two hours but were having incredibly personal conversations. I confessed, "I don't know. But it's like my job - even more, of course. I can't really change things now." 

"But again...you sometimes wonder," she said. I looked over at her. She was looking back at me with open, piercing eyes. 

"Yes," I said. "Though it's hard to admit to anyone."

She asked, "Do you ever tell anyone this stuff?"

"No," I said. In fact, I was getting embarrassed. I figured I had crossed the line a while ago and was just feeling sorry for myself. But in the spirit of our open conversation, I told that to Kate. She just smiled. So I went on to say I had even tried talking to a counselor once but it was just too hard to open up. 

"You seem to be pretty open with me, though."

"I guess because you're a stranger who just got in my car." She smiled again.

***

The miles flew along. It was getting close to noon when we arrived in a small town I'd never heard of. We stopped at a roadside diner for lunch. It was an unqualified greasy spoon but appealed to both of us. Going inside, I held the door open and saw flashes of pink above her low-cut jeans, suggesting her underwear matched her bra. 

As we settled into the booth, I finally got a good look at her again. After hours of talking while looking at the road, rather than face-to-face, I felt I had a pretty good sense of Kate as a person. But I wasn't used to actually looking right at her. Now I could, and I was so fascinated that it was hard to look away. She just had that warm, grounded presence.

Kate brought in her laptop, and while I spent time catching up on messages, she set it up to show her pictures. She was bent over looking at the screen, and I couldn't stop stealing glances at her exposed cleavage and her...well, her tits. Her pink strap was still showing, and now I knew there were pink panties to match. I knew that was no big deal for her generation, but I suppose I was trained in my own youth to get excited by the sight of a bra strap. I thought of the rest of it, holding in the firm breasts that were perfectly evident, and then about her bum shifting around in the seat, wrapped in matching pink. 

I was definitely being a dirty old man, but it was hard not to look, especially after our intense conversation. We no longer felt like strangers and I was fascinated by this woman who could make me so unguarded and open. I don't know if she knew what I was doing. But I couldn't imagine Kate being naive that way. Probably she was just playing it cool and was used to men, older and younger, checking her out. 

I hung up, put the phone away and looked at the laptop. The images were great. She had photographs of landscapes, people, everything. She had enhanced many of them with different effects and things that I didn't really understand, but it just made them more compelling. I could see they were much more than just iPhone shots. I told her that I didn't know much about art, but she seemed to have real talent.

She showed me some portrait shots. She hesitated over one and said,"I maybe should warn you this is a little different." She opened it. It was a shadowy silhouette of a naked woman. "Very, um, artistic," I said. I hoped for a second it was Kate herself naked, but I could tell it was another woman.

She smiled. "Does it bother you?"

"That's not exactly the right word," I replied.

"What is the right word?"

"Maybe 'fascinated'...but also maybe 'guilty' at being a bit too fascinated," I answered.

She smiled. "I know you're wired to feel that way, but you don't always have to. Have to feel guilty, that is."

I may have blushed. "I guess I am pretty wired that way."

"But you still like to look?" She was still smiling.

"Yes."

She was quiet for a moment. "With some guys it definitely gets out of hand. But I don't think that's the problem you have, Bill." 

I looked at her. "What is my problem?" But then our food suddenly arrived, and Kate closed the laptop. She never answered my question.

We talked about other things. I got over my obsession with her breasts and managed to keep my eyes focused up top. She looked around at the other greasy spoon diners. I just saw a bunch of truckers and small-town people with nowhere much to go, but Kate mused about how each one of them probably had an interesting life story. She wasn't naive or flighty - just curious and deeply interested in others. I was ashamed at my own judgmental dismissiveness. I realized she was right.

We finished. I sent a last email and we got back on the road. Kate nestled back in her seat and raised her knees up to the dash, looking very comfortable. "We've got a long way to go, Bill. Let's pass the time - tell me more about yourself," she said.

I said there wasn't much else to say. I had told her so much already, and that frankly it had felt like I was having a pity party for myself.

She smiled and told me I was being silly. "There's a lot more to you, Bill. And I don't think you get to tell your own story much." I said that was probably true. 

So I kept my eyes on the road rather than on her raised legs beside me, and started talking. It was rambling and I can't really remember all of it. Some of it was just silly, like telling her my favorite foods. But much was intense and personal, about career, family, my health - anything that came to mind. 

I told her how my career seemed to have flatlined. That I had never slept with anyone but my wife. That I had lost much of my religious faith. That I had no close friends. I can't believe how much I told her. She just listened, sometimes asking a small question but nothing more. Yet I felt she understood everything I said. I felt listened to - and never judged or dismissed or told to get it together or to stop feeling sorry for myself.

After a while, I fell silent. Kate asked me, "Bill, are you lonely?"

"Yes. But isn't everyone sometimes?"

She said, "That doesn't make it okay." She reached over and rubbed my arm gently for a few seconds, then took her hand away again. We were both quiet.

I asked, "Are you ever lonely, Kate?"

"Only when I want to be."

I told her what I was thinking - that she seemed to have her life together much more than I did at her age, and for that matter at my age now. Now she was the one to blush a bit, but said "It's just how I feel, I guess."

I told her it was now time to say more about herself. She snuggled back in the seat and told me more of her own life. She had done far more than I had at her age, and yet her life seemed so uncomplicated. She told me about a happy upbringing, about exciting college years, and her choice to stay and pursue her creative side and just see what would happen with it. She mentioned mistakes and problems, but always in a positive light. She never complained. She seemed to learn and grow from everything. 

She talked about friends, including ones "with benefits, as you call it". She seemed to have a core of good friends, both male and female, though she was clearly only attracted to men. She had been with a number of guys, but each sexual relationship was a bit different in its intensity. None were really boyfriends or committed relationships. She even confirmed to me another thing I had wondered about - that some sexual acts were not really considered a big deal. A handjob could be almost a friendly courtesy. A blowjob was more intimate but didn't signify a deep commitment, though it was polite for the male to reciprocate. (She winked when she said that.) Intercourse itself, or "fucking", as she put it, was more serious but again could still be a totally casual thing.

Naturally I was fascinated and my mind was aflame with thoughts of Kate sucking some lucky guy's cock and getting...fucked. It was so different from anything I had ever experienced when I was young. She seemed so casual about sex, yet not slutty or teasing either. She even admitted some encounters were perhaps mistakes, but it didn't seem to bug her or give her regrets. 

As she talked, her legs still raised and ass almost off the seat, I thought about how exposed her pussy was right there in my car. I imagined slipping those pink panties off and eating her out - reciprocating, the way she wanted. And I was jealous, thinking of guys who had their way with this gorgeous woman. My cock was swelling again as I imagined myself penetrating and fucking Kate. I was sure she was an on-top sort of girl and thought about her riding cowgirl and grinding on top of me, moaning and taking my cock deep while I licked her swaying tits. My mind was getting overwhelmed as I listened, fantasized and drove all at once. And of course I felt guilty about my thoughts. 




Driving Companion



I remembered our earlier conversation about the nude photo and thought it would be a good time to pick up that thread. "Kate...at lunch we were talking about my problem. Did you mean being lonely?"

She answered, "Sort of. I shouldn't have called it a problem. That wasn't right." Wow. She always had to be positive.

"Okay...then...my issue?"

She laughed. "Okay. Your issue. Your issue is that you obviously keep a lot bottled up inside. No counselors or friends or anyone you can let it out with."

"I do. At least until today." I glanced her way for a second. She smiled. I focused back on the road. "Men always find it difficult to talk about things."

"True. But in your case, I think it's especially hard to talk about sex," she said. 

I nearly drove into the ditch. It took me a few seconds to recover, though it wasn't too hard since we had already talked so deeply and privately. "What do you mean?"

Kate laughed. "Well, you know. You said don't talk to anyone about all this stuff...work, family, everything. But I'm thinking sex most of all. Did you ever talk about sex with those counselors? Do you ever talk about sex to anyone? Especially things you don't want to tell your wife? Or can't?'

"No," I said. 

"But you think about it all the time?"

"Well, not all the time," I said. "But yes, a lot."

"Including today?" I didn't say anything. She continued, "It's okay, Bill." She turned to face me more. "This T-shirt is pretty tight anyway." She laughed while I blushed for the second time that day. 

"I'm sorry, Kate."

She was still smiling. "It really is okay, Bill. I mean, it's not always okay to stare at a girl's breasts. But you're pretty well-behaved."

"Thanks...I think."

She was still turned toward me. "Do you like looking at my breasts, Bill?"

Part of me thought I should give a complicated answer and explanation. But instead I just said, "Yes."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

I looked over at her. "I guess not." 

She smiled. "I'm glad. You just really looked like you never got to admit that sort of thing - even to yourself. But it's bursting to get out." 

I wondered if there was a double meaning there but left it alone. "Thanks. And maybe you're right."

She smiled. "I think I am."

*** 

It was now about three o'clock. We were approaching a junction where we would turn off the interstate and take a smaller highway to get to Brownville. We stopped at a gas station to fill up and take a quick break. I automatically got out my phone to check emails and texts yet again, but then hesitated and looked over at Kate. I thought about all the things I had just unloaded. 

"Should I?" I asked.

She shrugged. "That's up to you, Bill. The important thing is not to worry too much either way." She was right. I checked. I answered a couple of easy things and left the rest for later.

The small town gas station made our greasy spoon diner look classy. There were a couple of guys hanging around outside who watched Kate's every move. I didn't like that but couldn't exactly object. And I couldn't tell if she noticed or cared. I bought two sodas and she began drinking hers right away, standing outside the car and stretching her muscles while I filled up the gas tank. 

There was a commercial years ago with Cindy Crawford drinking Pepsi at a gas station. I think I might have already been married - I remember watching it with my wife and her making me change the channel. But later I would watch TV just hoping it would come on again. 

And...well...Kate drinking her soda, leaning against my car in her snug T-shirt and jeans, with the sun shining down on her, sure reminded me of that commercial. Though Kate was far sexier than any supermodel. Not only was she was right there and real, but she had an amazing mind and personality to match her beauty. She made me feel so good. I wished I could just stare, but didn't want to fall into the same category as those guys. At least not at that particular moment.

We got back in the car. I pointed at the guys and said, "They seemed to enjoy us stopping." 

Kate agreed, "They weren't exactly discreet."

"Doesn't that bug you?"

"Sometimes, sure. But I'm not going to let it get to me." She smiled. 

The two-lane state highway we were taking looked pretty remote on the map and Kate told me there wasn't much on it. We hardly even saw another car as we rode along. The afternoon sun was intense and we were quiet for the first few miles. 

Then Kate spoke. "Bill, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"The sun is really warm on my side of the car." It was true. My side was more in the shade.

"Want me to turn up the air conditioning?" 

"Well, no." She paused. "I actually hate air conditioning. I was wondering...how would you feel if I took my top off? There's no other cars and I could be cooler and still enjoy the warmth on my skin."

I swear I did everything I could to stay in control of myself and the car as I tried to be nonchalant. I didn't really know what to say. "Well I guess I feel that's up to you."

"Okay," she smiled. "Let me rephrase. Bill, would you like me to take my top off?"

I knew she'd appreciate a direct answer and replied quickly before I could think better of it. "Yes." Kate promptly reached down and pulled her shirt over her head. 

I took my eyes off the road to see the pink bra in its entirety. It was bright and contrasted nicely against her smooth tanned skin. Kate's breasts were a nice size, not too big but with plenty of that cleavage I had seen at lunch. Having gulped what I could with my eyes, I focused back on the highway, half-wondering if that had really just happened. 

Kate leaned back in the seat again. "This feels nice. And I thought it would be something you might like. A sign of appreciation for giving me a ride." 

Though lost in soda commercial thoughts again, I was troubled by that. 

"Kate, you didn't need to take your shirt off just because I did something nice for you. I'm not that crude." I thought a little more and continued, "In fact, maybe you should put it back on." It was painful to say that but I felt I had to. 

She looked intensely at me. I had trouble looking back at her face rather than her chest. "So it makes you uncomfortable?" 

I answered. "Well, I did say yes. But I''m a married man. And even more, the idea that I made you feel obligated or that you owed me anything like that at all. I don't need gas money. I certainly don't need you to take your shirt off." 

She smiled. "That's cool, Bill. Don't worry. I wouldn't do it unless I wanted to. And I don't think it's healthy for you..or maybe even your marriage...to keep all that stuff bottled up. You need to give yourself some permission sometimes."

I relaxed again. Had it been a test? I wasn't even sure and didn't care. Everything she said was affirming...like the warm sun now glowing on her bared skin. We had been so honest for hours that I decided to say what was on my mind. To give myself permission, I guess. "Kate, you are a very attractive woman." 

"Thanks." 

"Though what if a car comes along?"

She thought. "Not a big deal. But I might hunker down a bit." I laughed. She did too. "I'm not a nudist, in case you were wondering. I think there's a reason clothes were invented."

"Too bad," I joked. She laughed and winked. 

We kept rolling along and talked about the unfolding scenery for a bit. But naturally I kept glancing over at Kate. She knew it but didn't say anything. Her skin was cool and smooth looking. Her breasts looked beautiful and firm and so exposed despite still having the pink bra on. 

"Enjoying the view?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. There was no point in lying, of course. But even more, it just felt good to confess things to Kate. 

"Were you imagining me with my shirt off earlier?"

"Yes." What the hell.

"And now..are you imagining my bra off too?"

"No comment." Okay, that was getting too intense.

"Hmm. And do you often undress women in your mind?"

I hesitated. But then I said, "Sometimes, sure. If I'm in the right mood and maybe depending on how she's dressed. But not if it doesn't feel right."

"What's an example of not feeling right?"

I explained, "An employee, for example. Someone I have power over. Or if I feel it's just intrusive. If she's not in a good mood. If I feel I'm taking advantage of her...even if she doesn't know I'm doing it." I wondered if I'd get a "good for you." Or maybe a sarcastic "bullshit." But Kate was quiet. She never judged, either way. 

She still didn't say anything, so I thought I'd turn the tables. "Do you undress guys in your mind?"

She probably knew that was coming and answered quickly, "Sometimes. But I don't think it's quite as intense as how guys undress girls."

"You're not quite as focused about...well, seeing things," I said.

"You mean imagining their penis?"

My own cock swelled, just because this pretty young woman said penis. I was such an easy mark. "Yes."

"Exactly. Cocks are interesting, but it matters a lot more about who they're attached to. I'm usually focused on the full package. With some exceptions," she said. 

"Exceptions?"

"Well, the college rugby team - their butts, for example." I laughed.

"Their butts, not their...cocks?" 

She smiled. "Butts are nice because they usually mean the guy takes care of himself and is fit all over. A cock is...just a cock." She winked. 

"Though they can still be interesting to you," I said. "Depending on who they're attached to."

"Exactly." She smiled. I was drawn to her serene face. I almost forgot her top was off and that we were discussing penises. But I could feel my own swelled cock.

It felt like I could say anything to her. "So how does that work? Deciding on the attached part?"

She thought for a moment. "I guess if I think the guy is cool and interesting. And obviously that he thinks I am too. And...I just feel comfortable with him. That he's trustworthy. And just wants to have some fun too." 

"And then...things just casually happen?"

She laughed. "You just think I live in some sort of casual sex orgy?" She punched my shoulder lightly.

I probably turned a bit red. 'No," I said. "But honestly I really don't know how it works. It just seems so different. From when I was young. And how handjobs and blowjobs and maybe sex itself just all seem much more casual."

"I'm not sure it's totally different," she said. "But it might be from how you were raised and what you learned to expect about sex."

"That could be," I said.

*** 

We kept moving. Occasionally a car came the other way and she shifted down a little. I glanced over occasionally to drink her in and admire her exposed smooth skin and cleavage. She usually caught me and smiled back.

It was getting later in the afternoon and we were about an hour away from Brownville when Kate recognized a sign for a state park. She told me it had a nice lake and trails but was otherwise undeveloped. I told her it sounded nice, and she asked if we had time to stop and see it, since she hadn't been there for years. I said yes. We had been making good time and I wasn't in any hurry. Of course, I would have done anything she said anyway.

It was a few miles off the highway and we drove through nothing much until we got to a thickly forested area and the park boundary. Soon I could see the lake glimmering in the afternoon sun. It had a sandy beach and small dock, but nothing else and no one in sight.

We parked and got out. Kate didn't bother putting her shirt back on and walked down to the water. She took off her shoes and socks and began wading. She looked gorgeous in the sunlight wearing nothing but the tight jeans and bra. I took off my own shoes and socks and joined her. 

"Nice," I said.

"It's beautiful just like I remembered," she said. She walked back up the beach and sat down in the sand. I stayed in the water but looked back at her. 

She patted the sand beside her. "Come join me, Bill. It's just so nice." I came up and sat down beside her. It was much like being beside her in the car, except that I no longer had to watch the road.

She looked at me. "It's still so hot. I wish we could go for a swim."

I agreed. She kept looking at me. Something dawned on me and I took a chance. "Why don't we, then?" I asked.

"What are you saying, Bill?" she asked, winking. She knew where I was going.

I repeated myself. "Why don't we go for a swim, Kate? You're already half-ready. You'd just have to take those heavy jeans off."

She smiled. "Look who's getting more confident at saying what's really on his mind." I smiled back. 

She unzipped her jeans quickly and slid them off her hips. It was fast and suddenly Kate was in nothing but her pink underwear. The panties were a nice fitting bikini style. I was mesmerized by all her exposed skin and curves, and just the knowledge that Kate was with me right here, right now, with her clothes off.

She pointed to me and said, "You're behind."

I had dressed for my drive in business casual - ironed khakis and a white shirt. I carefully took them off and was left in my tight boxer shorts as I folded them on the sand. I was self-conscious about how I looked. I am in reasonable shape for my age but there's no ripped abs or muscles to show, and more body hair than I'd like. And my butt..well, I'm not on the rugby team. But she smiled and watched me undress. I was flattered. 

We held hands and ran into the water. It was cold and I became preoccupied with the temperature rather than Kate in her underwear. She fell first into the water and dragged me down with her. I landed on top of her and our bodies were briefly in full contact. I quickly got off her, and we both sank back down into the water and let ourselves float. After a long day in the car, it did feel really good.

I hadn't had much chance to check out Kate in her panties, and now she was mostly underwater. But I could see the outline of her skin and the flashes of pink. I hoped I didn't look too pathetic myself. We splashed each other and laughed. A couple of times she turned over and dove under, her ass rising high out of the water. It looked magnificent. I leaned back and floated on my back. My penis and balls were shriveled up from the cold, but there was still a clear bulge in my boxers rising up above the water. 

Kate moved closer to me and said, "I hope you're having fun. I think you deserve it." Her nearly bare body was just inches from my own. I was so relaxed I could only agree.

After a few minutes we were ready to get out and dry off in the sun. I had a blanket in my trunk and retrieved it, spreading it out on the sand. We lay down side by side in our underwear, and she stretched out like a cat in the heat. I tried not to ogle her, looking out at the water instead, and then down at my soaked boxers. They were tight against me and my penis was growing again and clearly outlined. I felt very exposed.

We were quiet for a bit, enjoying the sound of birds and water lapping. Then Kate said, "Is this a little crazy for you?"

"Yes. More than a little."

"Why?"

I confessed. "Well, mainly because I could never explain this to my wife."

She said, "I understand. That's between you and her. But other than that?"

"Well, I've just never done anything like this."

"I didn't think so." She smiled. "Does it feel good?"

"It does."

She moved closer to me, with her smooth skin and pink underwear. "I think it's good for you." I looked at her. She kept looking at me. Her hands moved to touch my arm again, and she began to stroke it.

"Bill, give yourself permission to just be yourself sometimes. Not what you think others want or need."

She began to stroke my side more. Her hand moved down to my waist and boxers. She stroked back and forth. My cock was growing enormous.

Kate rolled over so she was on her stomach right beside me. Her pink panties were thin and soaked tight against her ass. I could see through to her skin and bare butt. She was still stroking against the side of my boxers. Then she moved her hand over to the bulge. She began to stroke my cock through my boxers. Kate was stroking my cock.

It felt incredible, and even more when she looked up at me and smiled. Then she moved her other hand to my other side. And began to pull. I lifted my butt to help.

She pulled my boxers down and soon the tip emerged, peeking out. I thought about our conversation about penises. Now Kate was seeing my penis. She kept pulling and soon uncovered the full length of my cock, which sprang out to greet her. She kept pulling until my hairy balls were revealed as well.

Kate took me in her hands. The cool touch of her hand directly on my cock was like a hot jolt. I probably felt wet and clammy, but she began to gently stroke. I was getting a handjob. I was getting a handjob from Kate.

"Does that feel good, Bill?"

"Yes."

"Remember," she winked. "A handjob is just a courtesy." But she smiled warmly.

Kate's hand on my cock was incredible. My wife never touches my penis, but Kate not only seemed to be enjoying it, but clearly knew what to do. She spat on her fingers to lube my clammy skin, until my precum took over. She stroked up and down with one hand, and held my balls in the other. I worried how ugly and hairy they were, but she gently massaged and fondled them. I started to close my eyes, then opened them again so that I could watch every second. 

Her own body was grinding against the blanket as she played with my cock. I watched her ass moving and shaking in the thin wet panties as she concentrated on her hands and my cock. I thought again of her tits and how I had spent all day watching them, seeing them more and more revealed. Her eyes alternated from looking at my bare cock to looking up at mine. I looked back at her and she smiled as she continued to stroke my cock. She still had the same calm, mature bearing I had seen all day.

After a little while she stopped, taking the hand that was on my balls and moving it to my boxers, tugging them further down. She kept pulling and I realized she wanted them off.

"Hey," I said. "Getting me naked?"

She smiled. "Maybe. Better access." She pulled them right off. I was naked.

I replied, "Hardly seems fair."

She smiled. Yet another wink. She took her hands away from me and rose back up onto her knees. My cock stood alone at attention as I eyed her tanned pink-clad body. She smiled and reached back to undo her bra. I knew what was going to happen but I couldn't believe it. With some quick moves, the bra fell to the ground, and her breasts were bare. The breasts that I had been ogling all day. 

Kate's tits were so firm and perky it took my breath away. They were neither small nor big - just wonderfully natural and nicely proportioned to her the rest of her body. They stood very proudly on their own, and were almost as tanned as the rest of her, suggesting that she sunbathed topless or nude. Her aerolae were faint and blended into the rest of her skin, but her nipples looked out bright and proud. Her breasts kept their perky shape as she lay back down in front of me. She propped herself up so that her nipples were still fully showing as she returned her hands to my cock and balls. And she had nothing else on but those thin wet pink panties over her ass.

She turned her full attention back to me, stroking and fondling again. After a day of constantly ogling her and the building sexual tension, it was amazing. Every little touch felt like magic. My cock had never had so much attention. Kate rubbed and held me, making little murmuring noises. Her pointy, perky tips swayed slightly. Her butt kept shifting back and forth as she ground her hips into the sand. 

She moved closer to my cock and began to flick her tongue. Oh, man, I thought. Please. 




Driving Companion



Kate kissed my penis with her soft lips. Then she began to lick it. She kept one hand on my balls, slowly playing with them, while the other held my cock firmly for her mouth. She was totally and completely focused on my cock and pleasing me. And I was so stiff and hard for her. She kissed me again, and looked up at me.

"Is this good, Bill?"

"Yes," I groaned. My eyes flickered over her nearly bare body. She watched me watching her. 

"Do you want anything else off?" 

Oh yes. I was too overwhelmed to be subtle. "I'd like to see you nude, Kate." 

She smiled. "Okay." 

She took her mouth and hands away from me again. This time she stood up, topless in just those pink panties. Her legs looked extra long from below. She put her thumbs in her panties and they drifted down slowly, revealing her bare pussy high above me.

Really bare. Kate was shaved, as I had expected. Another thing that seems to differ with the generations. I had never seen an actual shaved pussy before, except in pictures, where I usually found it kind of weird. But seeing Kate's bare pussy for real was totally different. Her genitalia were so distinct - outer and inner lips, and her clitoris peeking out from the folds. Her tan lines were more distinct, suggesting her sunbathing was mostly topless. 

I wanted to lick her, like she had licked and sucked me. So I started to sit up as she was getting down. She knew I was staring unabashedly at her pussy.

She crouched beside me. "Ever seen a girl shaved?" she asked. I told her no, confessing my fascination as I moved my hands closer to her. She moved back and sat down on her bare ass. 

I kept moving toward her as she began to spread her legs. "You said it was polite for the guy to reciprocate."

"True," she said. Now she was wide open, her mound right in front of me.

I touched her hesitantly near her clit and she gave a little moan. I wondered if it was just for my benefit but I didn't care. I began to finger some more and moved my mouth closer. I wanted to eat her out, and kiss her like she had kissed me. 

I put my lips and tongue to Kate's pussy. She made more moans and groans. I could feel her so intensely. I began to lick and kiss her. She made more nice noises. I buried my head between this young woman's legs and breathed her scent in deeply. My cock was now mashed against the ground but it didn't matter.

I kept my head between her legs while moving my hands around her hips and stomach, feeling her buck and push. It just kept getting better and better. She lifted her bum off the ground and I put my hands on it, feeling her push toward me. I kept licking and flicking and she kept moaning. 

As amazing as her pussy and ass were, I also badly wanted to feel Kate's bare tits. So I began moving my hands up to her chest. She responded immediately, taking one hand and moving it directly onto her bare breast and nipple. They were so firm and so perky. They felt so, so good. I put my other hand on her other breast and began to caress them both. My face was still buried in her pussy and my tongue was now beginning to push into her between licks of her clitoris. 

She kept moaning. "Uh, huh...uh huh...mm, nice, Bill..." In my doubts, I thought she was maybe just putting on a show for me. But it sure sounded real. And she reacted more and more as I rubbed her nipples between my fingers. I was awkwardly stretched but I wanted to enjoy her body and please her as much as I could.

Kate thrust her pussy harder against me and began to rub up and down against my tongue. As much as I was enjoying her tits, I knew I had to concentrate on her down below. So I took my hands away and placed them back underneath her, on her bare ass. It was fleshy but firm, and responded to my gentle squeezing as I fondled her ass and pushed it up against me. My tongue was now working full time on her clit. I moved my hands lower, spreading her ass cheeks and exposing her bum wide as she kept herself lifted up from the blanket. She was bucking now and ready to cum. 

I kept my hands on her ass as she pushed against me, spreading her wider as she began to moan and cum. There was no doubt what was happening and I didn't stop fondling and licking her. Kate came as I licked her pussy. I felt so good making her cum, and had no doubt it was real. 

She began to relax, sitting down again and relaxing her legs. "Mmm." I wondered how I measured up to other guys in pussy-eating but was pretty sure I had done all right.

"That was nice. Now back to work."

She gently pushed me back and leaned over me again. Her tits were swaying more this time. I wished I could see more of Kate's ass, with those cheeks I had just spread to make her cum. But I had plenty else to watch. I remained sitting up, leaning back on my arms as she returned her mouth to my cock and her hand to my balls. 

I watched Kate suck my cock. It had survived its mashing to the ground and was quickly returning to full strength. She was now licking up and down the whole shaft, and sometimes even kissing my balls. It was incredible. But at this point I knew I couldn't last much longer. 

"Kate, I'm going to cum soon." She looked up at me, her mouth full of cock, and smiled. I wondered where she would let me cum. Part of me wanted to cum right in her mouth and watch her swallow every drop of my creamy seed. Another wanted to unload it all over her lovely face and tits.

But then she did something I didn't expect. She reached over and picked up her wet pink panties. They were soft cotton and she began to rub them against my cock. They were soggy and soaked and not as smooth and nice as her hand, but it was still hot - after all, they were Kate's panties. Her other hand kept working hard on my balls while she kept kissing my tip and shaft with her mouth. She didn't let up. She wanted me to cum. And I wanted to cum for her.

"Mmm...yes, Kate..."

I began to spurt. Kate immediately moved her mouth away and replaced it with her underwear, holding it against my tip. She wanted me to cum in her panties! I wasn't going to watch her either swallow my seed or take it on her face after all. But I didn't care now as I began to pump semen into Kate's pink cotton panties. She kept fondling with her other hand and began to whisper to me.

"That's right, Bill. Shoot it all out. Right into my panties."

I didn't know I had a panty fetish but suddenly it was incredibly hot. I had seen that pink underwear get slowly revealed and watched her swimming and stretching in it. Now Kate was totally nude and I was shooting loads of creamy cum into her panties. I had so much hot seed after watching her all day - her tight shirt, her firm tits, her shaved pussy - and now she was watching me unload every warm, sticky drop. Right into the panties that had covered her pussy and ass all day. It was almost as good as shooting it right into Kate herself.

"Mmhm, that's right. No judgment. Just unload it all, Bill. Let everything out." 

I shot load after messy load for Kate while she kept encouraging me. I filled her panties up with sticky warm cum, all while she watched and approved. It felt so incredibly good to let out my seed, all while she watched and carefully caught it. Finally I began to relax. My cock stopped throbbing. My breath returned to normal. I was done.

Kate took her hands away and began to roll her soaked and messy panties into a ball. She was still completely nude, but I just looked at her face and told her how incredible that had been. 

She just smiled. "I wanted to give you something you couldn't give to yourself."

"Thanks."

She was still holding the panties, which were a sticky mess. She smiled. "Was it okay cumming in these?"

"I didn't know I had a panty fetish, but yes - it was hot," I said.

She held them out to me. "I want you to have them." I must have looked surprised. She continued, "If you want them, of course. But there's one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you find some way to let all this stuff out sometimes. Because you can't always depend on picking up girls in your car." She smiled. "So whether or not you have a panty fetish, these can be a souvenir. To remind you not to keep stuff all bottled up inside."

I took the messy panties. "I promise. Though I think I'll wash them out first."

She laughed. "I would too."

We both put our pants back on. My boxers were wet and covered with sand, so I joined her in going commando. She started to put her shirt on, leaving off her wet bra. Then she stopped and faced me. "Last look." I admired those wonderful firm perky tits one more time. The shirt came down but I could still see her nipples pointing out. Then I went down to the water and rinsed out the panties. She came down beside me and watched. 

We put our shoes on and admired the scenery one last time. But it was time to move on.

We got back in the car, placing the wet underwear in the back window to dry in the sun. We left the park and soon were back on the highway. The ride was quiet - we were both tired from the long day and getting hungry. 

We stopped a few miles before Brownville and Kate put her now dry bra back on. She had to take her shirt off first, letting me have one more look at her tits after all. I put the panties in the glove compartment.

We arrived in Brownville and Kate directed me to her family's home. She had texted them a couple of times in the day so they were expecting her. I met her parents and was relieved to see they were considerably older than me. They thanked me for giving Kate a ride and invited me to stay for dinner with the whole family, but I declined - that would have just been too weird. So I said goodbye and went back out to my car. Kate followed.

"Thanks," she said. No one was watching. She gave me a peck on the cheek.

"No," I said. "Thank you."

She smiled. "Just a friendly day. But I hope I made you feel better."

"You did."

"Remember your souvenir," she smiled. "It's not healthy to keep it all inside."

"I will." I got in my car and drove off. She waved from the porch.

I checked into Brownville's finest motel, put on some clean underwear, and went to the restaurant for a big meal. I called my wife and worked through the afternoon's messages. Then I was ready for bed. I brought the panties in and put them on the bedside table. I got into bed and lay there, looking at the panties, but my eyes were flickering too much. Soon my eyes were shut. 

***

When I opened them again, the three women were gone from the restaurant. 

I finished my bacon and eggs, paid, and got back out on the road. I had a long drive ahead. And a promise to keep to myself.

The End



Driving Daydream



It had been a long shift, at the end of an even longer week. Shift work had always gotten the better of him, but while the hours sometimes got the better of him, he appreciated that his job allowed him time to see his friends and the (occasional) sleep in.

Still only just beginning the long drive home, his mind was already drifting, the dark expanse of road in front stretching away into oblivion. He was already thinking about rest, and how his recent frustrations had led to relaxation by masturbation, rather than an intimate moment with his partner.

It wasn't that she wasn't willing, far from it, it's just that her sexual drive was not as high (or as refined) as his own. He needed, wanted, that physical connection more than she did. And like most men, he loved getting head. Having his partner lower her warm lips around his swollen cock and having her gently suck him off was an amazing experience, and he was always appreciative, but she would do it to please him, not because she enjoyed it herself. He had come to suspect that she actually didn't like blowing him at all, that it was more of a 'chore' for her, than a sexual act.

Which is what has led him to be thinking of that very same act as he drove home. He wanted to feel lips around his shaft, a tongue on his balls, and the sensation of his orgasm exploding in her throat. She never let him finish in her mouth. He didn't want to ask her in case she retreated in repulsion. But he wanted that now. Craved it, even.

Realizing that she would be well and truly asleep by the time he arrived home, (if she wasn't already), and that she would be reluctant to stir from her own dreams, he remembered his long lost friend. A girl he hadn't seen, nor spoken to in nearly three years, but who had changed his life forever.

Jasmine.

Jasmine had been riding shotgun on a night they had both been enjoying. They had spent it out in town, just as friends - both had partners after all - but they did have history. They had shared a short but meaningful relationship, but had stopped seeing each other because she was leaving the country, and his work at the time left little for much else. Jasmine had returned six months later, but both had moved on. This was dinner in town to celebrate their friendship, and their continued support of each other through hard times.

They had finished their meal, and walked along the banks of the Yarra River, Southbank, Melbourne, looking up at the stars, talking about life, love and where they were headed next. They had both consumed a few glasses of wine, he stopping at two, being the responsible driver, she, unrestricted, drinking the rest of the bottle. As they strolled through the night life, she took his arm, and placed her head on his shoulder.

He wasn't sure what to make of it, and stopped walking. Jasmine turned her head to him, and kissed him, softly, sweetly. To his surprise, he found himself kissing her back. Their lips parted and his tongue massaged hers gently, fondly. The familiar scent of her body filled his heart with desire, but he reluctantly pulled away, and broke the moment.

They walked in silence back to the car, the unspoken argument in both of their minds about the taboo to which they had both succumbed hanging thick in the air.

Jasmine hardly spoke in the car on the way home. It was a fair drive back out of town, especially in Saturday night traffic, and whilst she made general conversation, she seemed to be conflicted.

He asked her what was bothering her. Jasmine replied that it was nothing really, and she was just tired. She stretched in the passenger seat beside him, and he couldn't help but stare at her shapely legs contained in her sheer black lace stockings. He plucked up the courage and asked her if it was the kiss that was bothering her.

Jasmine turned to him and said, simply, "It's not the kiss. I loved it. It reminds me why I fell in love with you. You're so passionate."

"Then what is it? Have I done something?"

"No", she laughed, "I'm just, well, wondering."

"Wondering what?"

Jasmine furrowed her brow, thinking. She seemed to make a decision. She turned to him and stared playfully with her green eyes, a smile starting to curl in the corner of her mouth.

"Have you ever been given a blowjob while driving?"

He nearly lost control of the car. He corrected, slowed his speed (not to mention his heart rate) and glanced over at the girl who had peaked his sexual appetite.

"No." he replied. And then, more boldly, "Why? Are you offering?"

Jasmine licked her lips, deliberately and devilishly running her pink tongue across her mouth. He could see her newly moistened lips glisten in the night light. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across to him, sucking his earlobe into her mouth and nibbling on it. She whispered, "I'm game. It'll be our little secret, my present to you for buying me dinner."

Jasmine placed a hand on his crotch, and squeezed the forming bulge in his pants.

He moaned.

She slowly began to unbuckle his belt, and unzip his fly.

"You can't be serious?" He exclaimed, "This is a well lit area. I'm driving, people will see."

As she reached into his pants and past his boxers with one hand, fishing for his cock, she looked up at him, deep into his eyes, and said, "Let them look."

Jasmine's small, pale hand closed around his shaft and she began to gently stroke him, making sure he was complicit in her plans before taking the next step. Upon seeing the pleasure in his face, she removed his hard dick from his pants, and began to stroke him quickly, getting him to complete hardness with little effort.

"Oh, it's been so long since I've seen your cock. I've missed it. I loved the way this dick of yours felt inside me. Inside my mouth, deep in my pussy."

She opened her mouth, and lowered her head to his lap. The bright lights shone in through the windows, illuminating her in an orange glow as he felt her warm breath on his member. He struggled to keep his eyes on the road as he felt her wet tongue tickle the head of his rock hard tool, slipping and sliding as she beat him off.

"Ready, baby?" she asked. He grunted something sounding like a yes, and moaned loudly as he felt his entire length slide past her lips and relished the feeling of being totally engulfed in her talented mouth. She was a great cock-sucker, and enjoyed it because of the feeling of power it gave her, while she gave pleasure to someone else.

Jasmine's head began to bob up and down on his cock now. She wasn't one to mess around. She quickened her pace and used one hand to stroke his cock, the other to massage his big, hairy balls, and all the while she swirled her tongue around the head of his prick, slurping and sucking just like she used to.

As he continued to drive, he was aware that he was about to pull up at a red light. He slowed, and began to look around outside at the other vehicles on the road. Jasmine felt the car slowing and simply sucked him off harder, wanting to make him blow his load at the traffic lights, give the other onlookers a real show. He looked to his right, and sure enough, a carload of young hoons out for a night of mischief were pulled up along side. It didn't take them long to notice, and they began to honk their horns and yell out of the car at him, cheering them both on. The guy closest to him wound down his window, and indicated for him to do the same. He did, and as Jasmine expertly performed her oral stimulation, the guy reached over and gave him a high-five.

The lights changed and the hoons sped off, and he put the car in gear, continuing to drive as his lover pleasured him with skill. He couldn't take it anymore, and pulled into a parking space out the front of a park. He turned off the car, moved the seat back, and reclined, letting Jasmine do her worst.

Jasmine pulled off of his cock just briefly enough to say, "I want to taste you. I'm still fucking hungry, so shoot that cum deep into my throat, baby. Give me every drop." She then dropped her head back in his lap and began to beat him off with a flurry of strokes, using her hands, fingers, lips, tongue and throat.

He couldn't take it. She was stunningly gorgeous, incredibly talented, and had his cock deep in her mouth, wanting to taste his hot load. Not wanting to disappoint, he closed his eyes, and let the inevitable approach.

He felt the orgasm build. Like fire through his body, he warned her he was close. Jasmine only sucked harder. He felt his toes curl upwards as he placed a hand on her head and held her in place. She moaned her approval. His breathing became ragged and forced as he neared climax. She slurped, licked, sucked him toward the finish line. He lost control, and did what he needed to.

He exploded in her mouth.

He shot load after load into her mouth, squirting his thick seed down her throat and making sure she caught every juicy drop. Jasmine milked his cock dry, and kept a tight seal around his head as she drank his cum.

When he was finished, and floating along nicely, she pulled off his cock, and opened her mouth, to show him his own handiwork. The white spunk in her mouth covered her tongue, and she rolled it around her mouth, relishing the texture, before closing her lips and swallowing the lot with an audible gulp. She returned to her seat, smiling and happy with herself, and he just sat there, bewildered and with his pants around his ankles, his softening cock bouncing in the light.

He squeezed his cock though his pants at the memory of that night. Remembering that night had made him incredibly horny, and ready to 'relax' in his own way. He finally reached home, locked the car and went inside. Sure enough, his partner was asleep, and out for the count. The bulge in his pants wasn't going to wait. He locked the bathroom door and removed his dick from his pants, pulling back the skin and stroking himself for all he was worth, remembering Jasmine's face, her smile, her smell, and the feeling of blowing his load in her mouth.

He came, blasting his jizz all over the bathroom wall and making an impressive mess. He cleaned, changed for bed, and quickly started his iMac to check his messages. Nothing exciting, mostly junk mail, and a Facebook notification stating new messages.

He logged in, and saw the friend request icon lit up. He clicked it, and in shock and surprise muttered the words, "Fuck me".

There on his screen was Jasmine's smile, requesting to be added as his friend.



Driving Desire



Engines roared, and horns blew, as Ricky pushed down on his accelerator, preparing to merge on to the interstate. A handsome young man, with sandy blonde hair, and twinkling blue eyes, he had the face of an angel, but his tall, lean, masculine body defied its innocence. Beside him, snuggled closely, was his steady girlfriend, Riana. He signaled his intentions, and slipped into a slot easily, with the flow of the traffic. 

Riana sighed lightly, snuggled closer to her Adonis, and began running her hands gently on the firm, soft skin of his arm. Her fingers trailed and twirled the length of his arm, as he held the steering wheel. Ricky turned to her and she raised her lips to his, enjoying a quick kiss, and shared a smile with her lover. 

Changing hands on the steering wheel, he slid his free hand up her thigh, and began to massage her, through the fabric of her tight pants. Uuuhhhhhhhhm she loaned softly, as the feel of his caress, awakened a deep desire within her. She opened her legs further to allow his touch more freely, and slowly moved her hips to meet his searching hand. She placed her on hand on his muscular thigh, and began to rub and massage him tenderly, but firmly. His body responded to her touch, as well as the feel of her hot crotch under his fingertips, his cock swelled within its confines, pressing its hardness against them, seeking freedom. Obligingly, Riana unzipped his pants, and rescued his rock hard cock into the warmth and softness of her hand. Slowly she began to stroke his cock, up and down, enjoying its throbbing hardness clenched tightly in her hand. With her free hand she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and eased them down further, so she could see, and feel all of his wonderful maleness. Ricky obliged her by lifting his hips slightly off the car seat, as he continued to drive them towards their destination. Riana leaned upward and kissed Ricky softly on the neck, then drug her wet, hot tongue across his skin, twirling and licking, culminating in a gentle bite. Mmmmmmmmmmm, he groaned, and then whispered in a raspy voice, “Oh shit woman, you are driving me crazy.” Riana just giggled innocently, and proceeded to lower her hot mouth slowly down the thick, hard length of his throbbing cock, still held firmly in her hand. Her tongue instinctively began to lick and swirl, flicking lightly on his warm skin, circling the head of his cock, teasing, while her mouth milked his cock, sucking tightly. She released his cock from its hot captor, slowly, and ran her tongue firmly down the underside of his shaft. Riana eased her hand under his balls and cradled them gently, as she licked downward from his cock, and across the hot, damp skin enclosing his balls, and separated them with her tongue. Slowly, she sucked one ball into her mouth, and swirled her hot tongue around it. Her fingers explored the silky skin around his anus, teasing, and tantalizing. Gently she inserted a fingertip into his rectum, and began to massage slowly from within, as her hot, wet mouth continued to massage each ball softly, sucking, licking, and exploring. Mmmmmmmmmm, Ricky moaned, adjusting himself in the seat, trying to concentrate on the highway. A chuckle escaped his throat, as he attempted to separate the sensations of Riana’s wet hot mouth, from his responsibility to drive, satisfied that this was indeed, a wonderful way to put the miles behind them. Softly, she released his balls from their wet captor, and licked her way back up the length of his manhood, enveloping its fullness in the hot wetness of her mouth, and sucked firmly, stroking him within the tightness of her jaws. His cock throbbed and jerked slightly, as it came closer to exploding in a climax. Sensing his desire, Riana sucked harder and faster, stroking the base of his cock within the firm grip of her hand. Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Ricky moaned loudly. His cock could not expand, nor harden any further, in response to Riana’s sucking, yearning for his climatic explosion. He thrust his cock deep with her hot mouth, sinking completely into the silky, wet heat, as his cock spewed his hot cum, inside her mouth. Mmmmmmmmmmmm, she moaned, tasting the hot liquid that filled her mouth, swallowing and sucking until every drop was hers. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhm, mmmmmmmmmmmm, Ricky groaned loudly, as he completed his climax, with several hard, quick thrusts. 

Riana swallowed the last of her lover’s hot juice gratefully, and released his now, semi hard cock from the confines of her mouth. She kissed his mouth quickly, teasingly, and then rested her head on his shoulder. She felt her own wetness, seated warmly between her legs, and smiled, mostly to herself. Her wet pussy relaxed, having claimed its own orgasm from the rhythmic caresses of her lover’s hand. 

Ricky turned to her and smiled, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction, and said, “Damn, that felt good baby.” 

“Oh yes, she returned his sentiments. “It certainly did. I fucking loved it, and I love you.” 

Ricky signaled his intention to exit from the interstate, and steered the car onto the off ramp. Riana helped her lover fasten his pants once more, into their original position, smiling as she worked. “Wonder what mom will have cooked for dinner”, she pondered audibly to Ricky, as he turned the car into her mother’s driveway. “ Hmmmm, I don’t know”, he answered, “but I am hungry as hell.”



Driving Exam Blow Out



Alan's knuckles were white as he clung to his clipboard he wanted to close his eyes but knew if he did something far worse would happen. Alan knew he had control of the situation, all he had to do was put his foot on the brake, the car would stop and he could tell the poor girl in the driving seat she had failed her driving test. Instead he took a deep breath and started to loosen his death grip on the clipboard and said with a shaky voice "take the next right."

The girl next to him nodded and he watched her check all three mirrors, slow down and signal...this was the problem she was not a terrible driver but she was not the best either. She had come close to clipping two cars just leaving the test centre, her parallel parking had been somewhat stroke inducing and the last roundabout had brought on Alan's sudden embrace of his clipboard. He kept giving her chance after chance and he knew why. At nineteen Miss Daisy Wright was a red headed, spectacle wearing, chubby girl not on the side of plain, her full lips and blue eyes pulled her away from that crowd, but she was not exactly beautiful, the old faint scars of acne and some freckles kept that door locked. 

To Alan though at the age of fifty she was a pleasure to be around especially seeing that she had decided to wear a low cut floral print dress that showed off more cleavage than would normally be classed as decent. In twenty years of doing the job he had seen it all, he was not sexist in anyway no matter how they dressed if their driving was bad they failed, that was not to say he did not go home and spend time thinking about them while masturbating as slowly as possible to all the ideas that had popped into his head throughout the day. But for some reason Miss Wright had him hesitating every time he lifted his pen to mark her down a point or even a major fault, she would have failed ten minutes ago had she been anyone else.

"Oh dear," Daisy said her words high pitched and a little ragged, the car slowed down as she came to a junction.

Alan smiled inwardly, "it's okay you are doing just fine, just take your time, and we are going to go left," words of encouragement were not his forte, why was this girl bringing out such things. Alan's eyes slipped from the road, he turned his head to look to the right feigning interest in the traffic while actually spending more time looking down Miss Wrights top at her ample pale and freckled cleavage. Daisy hit the accelerator a little too hard and the car juddered out of the junction, the road was thankfully clear but the cars lurching brought Alan back to his senses, he scribbled a little mark onto the pad that sat on his clipboard as he did so he could see Miss Wright looking over, "Watch the road please," he said without looking up. 

Ten minutes later Alan's foot found the brake pedal on the side of his car, the lorry sped past its horn blaring as it did so. Daisy Wright instantly started to cry, not huge heaving sobs (Alan had seen plenty of those in his time) but almost silent, Alan could see them running down her reddening cheeks her chest hiccuping as she tried to maintain some semblance of order. "If I can get you to just turn down there and pull up where it is safe to do so." he said in a very soft, reassuring voice. 

Daisy drove carefully Alan could hear the little sobs that were escaping from her lips now, he knew that when the engine was switched off she would go into full meltdown. They parked up down the small side street across the way was a low wall beyond which lay a graveyard. The engine died and Alan prepared for the onslaught...and waited...and waited. He looked over at Miss Wright, she stared dead ahead hands on the steering wheel, her mouth moved as she talked in hush tones to herself.

Alan felt a deep pang of regret for her, it was clearly nerves and the lorry was going far faster than the posted thirty sign. "As you know I had to engage the brake, this is an automatic failure," then followed by something he had never muttered in his twenty years as a tester, "I am truly sorry Miss Wright."

At this Daisy turned her head, she smiled at him, her mascara had run a little leaving a greyish black streak down both her red cheeks, "No chance of just ignoring it?" she asked with a wavering smile that said she already knew the answer, she hit the steering wheel with one meaty hand, "Stupid Debbie," she said more to herself than to Alan.

Alan's brow knitted together, he had no reason to ask but felt the need to, "whose Debbie?"

Daisy sniffed and dabbed at her eyes, the wetness of them making the pale blue look almost opaque and Alan felt himself drifting off in them, "She's my stupid friend who told me to wear this stupid dress," Daisy replied grabbing the front of the dress and pulling it away enough that Alan caught a glimpse of the top of a bright pink bra, "wear something revealing, they'll spend more time watching you than how you are driving," she continued in a high pitched voice that Alan took to be Miss Wright mimicking her stupid friend Debbie.

Alan could not help but let out a small laugh, "I have seen much worse," at those words Miss Wright reached up suddenly self-aware of her clothing and what she was revealing in such a low cut, her face turning an even darker shade of red. Alan held up his hands, "Not that what you are wearing is horrible, you have been the highlight of my day so far." He sputtered out, "It has been difficult keeping my eye on the road."

Alan's heart stopped as Miss Wright's eyes went wide, her full lips opening in shock, just when he thought she was going to explode she gave a soft laugh and put her head on the steering wheel, "Oh god I am so stupid," she turned her head still leaving her forehead resting on the top part of the wheel, "Thanks for trying to make me feel better," and with those words she started to cry softly once more.

"If there was any way I could take back the marks I would, but I can't." he said earnestly.

Daisy lifted her head from the steering wheel, she bit her bottom lip then rested on hand on knee, "no way at all?" she said, she tried to look convincing and sexy but came off as if she had something stuck in her eyes her voice shaky with nerves. "I know I am not exactly a supermodel but..." her hand moved up to Alan's thigh.

Alan reached down and put one hand on hers stopping her from moving it any further, "Personally you are better than any supermodel," and he was not lying, how could he knock a girl with red hair and killer curves the likes of which Daisy Wright was displaying. "But sex won't help the matter right now,"

Daisy smiled and swallowed hard, "I was not thinking sex just a hand job maybe," and she moved her hand quickly across to Alan's crotch, she cupped him and held him firmly. Alan stumbled over his words as he tried to pry her hand away but felt himself hardening beneath her hold. "Just a quickie that has to be worth losing one little mark," she said as her other hand now joined in and started to work undoing his trousers.

"I really must insist that you stop Miss Wright,Alan sputtered out, the last word coming out in a clipped gasp as he felt Daisy's warm hand close around his old semi erect cock.

Alan's body went rigid as Daisy tugged his cock free of his pants, he closed his eyes tight and whispered for her to stop, she worked him in a blur of quick strokes sometimes painfully pulling his foreskin too far back, "Wow," she said coming to a stop and letting go of his cock which flicked back resting on his tie fully erect. "That's bigger than I expected," Daisy said, her eyes stared intently at his cock as it throbbed against his waist.

Alan looked down, unsure if she was joking or not, at seven inches he thought he had nothing more than an average cock, he had not had a lot of partners but they never mentioned his cock being anything other than usable. Yet Daisy seemed in awe of his fifty year old cock, he asked the question "You have seen a cock before, right?"

Daisy gave out an unconvincing laugh then said, "Well in pictures." She sat back in the driver's seat, "I was not exactly the go to girl for guys in school or college you know too fat to fuck it seemed." She raised her eyebrows and swatted a loose strand of red hair that hung across one of the lenses in her glasses, "I even asked a friend once to finger me, told me he was gay and could not do it, the great sexploits of Daisy Veronica Wright!"

Alan felt uncomfortable, extremely embarrassed and downright out of place sitting there in the passenger seat, his clipboard between his feet and his cock still hard and now glistening with pre cum on the fat purple head. "They don't know what they are missing," he found himself saying, she smiled at him, her eyes glancing down at his cock taking longer to come up and meet his own eyes. "This is not something I would normally do you know." 

Daisy swivelled in her seat and reach over with her right hand, her warm hand gripping a little too firmly around his cock, he motioned to her to loosen the grip and gave her a thumbs up when she held it just right, she started off slowly pulling his foreskin up and over his cock head smearing his sticky pre-cum across the purple blood filled dome. Alan closed his eyes, his heart pounded in his chest and his mind conflicted with wanting Daisy to stop and wanting her to continue and do more.

"That's really good," Alan said huskily, opening his eyes and looking down feeling unreality wash over him at the sight of his cock in the hand of a nineteen year old. He watched his own right arm lift up his hand opening, feeling the cloth of Daisy's dress underneath his fingertips then the firmness of one breast creating a barrier as his fingers closed and squeezed. "They feel really good too."

Daisy laughed and blushed at his words, she pushed forward letting his hand have the freedom to roam across the front of her dress, she shivered and giggled as his hand lifted up finding the top of her breasts her skin hot beneath his touch. "Would you have sex with me?" she asked, and Alan nodded a big grin on his face. Daisy looked around her hand not slowing down on his cock, "Will you have sex with me now?"

Alan's grin dropped and he licked his lips looking around guiltily, "Are you serious?" Daisy shrugged then nodded, her hand relinquishing the grip on his cock, she reached up and slipped the shoulder straps off the front of her dress falling away revealing the bright pink bra and the heavy breasts beneath. "Wait not here," Alan scanned outside the car again then said. "Get in the back."

Lying down Daisy took up most of the back seat of the car, she looked as nervous as Alan no doubt looked and felt right that moment. He had opened the rear car door before he realised his cock was still hanging out he covered his exposed member while Daisy crawled onto the back seat and lay down. He leaned in watching as she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, his breath caught as the bra loosened and she pulled it down exposing her large breasts. Each tit was a pale heavy weight the left dotted with the odd freckle while the right was blemish free and both were topped with large pink areola and a nipple that was hardening in the cool air.

Alan reached out and pushed up her dress lifting it up until it was a bundled mess on her chubby waist, her legs were thick and her thighs more so he ran his hands along both legs finding the waist band of the knickers beneath the mass of dress and pulling them down over her fat thighs and legs. Her pubic bush was a mess of tangled fiery red and her labia poked out shyly. He climbed into the back of the car using the rear seat as leverage as he squeezed between Daisy's legs.

Daisy put both hands on his chest, "Go easy it's my first time." She pleaded, he could see the mix of excitement and worry in her eyes and he nodded and gave her a reassuring smile. Alan wanted to put his head between her meaty thighs and taste her fiery pussy, to run his tongue along her labia and find her hard little clitoris, but they were out in public and anyway his cock was frantic to get inside her. 

Alan took hold of his cock feeling its heat and thickness in his grasp, the excitement of entering this girl for the first time making his head feel light. He nudged forward, Daisy's hands pushing a little firmer on his chest as his cock-head parted her labia and she gave a slight gasp as he pushed forward his cock sliding into her. Daisy sighed and gasped with each fresh thrust her eyes closed tight and her mouth an 'O' of pleasure as Alan began to fuck her.

Alan used his left hand to grip the top of the passenger seat leaving his right hand free to freely grope Daisy's big tits. He closed his fingers round one squeezing it, pushing the flesh upwards making her areola and nipple look like the cheery on top of the world's best ice cream. Alan closed his mouth round the nipple, tasting perfume and sweat as his tongue ran round the thick flesh. His thrusts sped up with excitement and he was met with the agreeable moaning of Daisy as he did so. 

When Daisy moved to push him off her Alan reluctantly moved. Had she changed her mind and what on earth was she going to do if she had? He felt the blood draining from his face, his stomach exploded with butterflies yet his cock remained rigid in front of him. "Too uncomfortable," Daisy said in a husky, out of breath voice, "Sit down," she said sitting up and moving over before indicating for Alan to sit next to her. He sat down and quickly scanned the outside of the car thankful that no one had yet walked by or driven past. Daisy had no need to hike her dress and so straddled Alan easily, "That's better." She said with a smile.

Alan's hands went to her thighs, feeling her heat and moist skin on her thick thighs, Daisy reached underneath and took a firm grip of his sticky cock "Much more fun than my vibrator," she whispered into his ear as she eased herself down on his cock. Alan buried his face into her cleavage, his tongue running across her warm skin his lips kissing at her two mounds of heavy flesh and his teeth finding her nipples inviting and pliant. Alan met Daisy's thrusts, lifting his bum from the back car seat driving his cock as deep as he could into her, her inner walls gripped his cock as she sped up.

Daisy's hands closed around Alan's head and pulled him firmly onto her tits, "Fuck me daddy," she exclaimed in a shuddery voice, Alan was alarmed and turned on at the same time as she repeated the mantra over and over. Suddenly Daisy stopped moving, she gasped and panted and ground down on him, their pubic bones grinding together and Daisy's inner walls rippling as her orgasm erupted. Her sex seemed to inflate around his cock,her juices flowing freely and he felt his balls becoming wet as she let herself go.

After a moment Daisy climbed off much to Alan's disappointment he was so close to his own orgasm and had lustily hoped he would be filling this young, curvy girl with his cum but it seemed not to be. Daisy's cheeks and chest flushed red, bit her lower lip and pushed her thick rim glasses up her nose and looked at Alan guiltily "Sorry about that whole...dad...thing," she looked as if Alan was, at any moment going to kick her out of the car and call her a freak.

Alan was too lust filled to care, his mind had reeled when she had begged "dad" to fuck her but he also found it an incredible turn on, he had no children of his own so he had no real reason to feel uncomfortable. He reached up with one hand and stroked one flushed cheek on Daisy's face then let his hand slip behind her head, his fingers sliding through her red hair and finding the back of her skull then said, "Daddy's not finished yet," before guiding her head down to his eager, sticky cock.

Daisy opened her mouth to say something but Alan lifted his hips as she got in close, he felt her take a deep breath just before his cock-head pushed past her full lips and entered her mouth. Daisy sputtered and coughed around his length before Alan relaxed his hold on her head and allowed Daisy to find her own rhythm. 

His fingers dug into her red hair as her mouth worked as much of his length as it could while one hand gripped the rest. "Daddy's going to cum!" Alan said through gritted teeth, Daisy made no move to pull back, in fact her lips clamped tighter around his length and sucked him harder until Alan let out his own long moan and lifted his hips as his balls tightened and his cock spasmed unleashing his first heavy load into Daisy's mouth.

She gagged, sputtered and coughed but kept his cock in his mouth as his next load erupted followed by a weaker explosion and finally nothing more than weak dribbling. Daisy bobbed her head her throat working away and Alan gasped and sat upright as her tongue ran over his now sensitive cock-head. When Daisy finally came up for air her smile beamed from ear to ear, her glasses sat crooked on her nose and she straightened them as she spoke, "well first time for everything," She leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips and Alan could taste his salty mess his flaccid cock twitching with new excitement but unable to rise to the challenge at that moment. 

They sorted their clothes out in silence, Alan watched longingly as Daisy hooked her bra before slipping her now bra clad tits back into her dress, she took her knickers off and handed them to Alan winking at him as she did so. Alan shoved them into his pocket before doing up his own trousers, noticing them mess of his pants as he did so but not caring. Daisy climbed out of the back seat smoothing her dress before taking off her glasses and cleaning them, "So do we start the test all over again?" she asked as Alan stumbled out of the back seat on legs of jelly.

He shook his head then smiled, "Why would we do that Miss Wright you passed with flying colours!"