Parking

She drove to work with the sharp, distinct taste of semen in her mouth. She could smell it on her breath and in her mind was still lying across the side of the bed with his cock in her mouth.

She could still feel the soft brush of his pubic hair against her nose, the musk of his crotch at her face. Her mouth still rolled around the thickness of the penis in her mouth.

It made her wet, of course, as sucking men always did. He knew this, and tried to get her off. She had to work, and was doing his best, but he was not able to do so. He had been softly frigging her and working on her nipples with his mouth, but she felt flustered, and then could not orgasm.

She craved the attention, his beautiful, dark hands against her white, creamy skin. His soft, loving doe-eyed gaze made her feel weak in the knees. His shaggy mop of black, unruly hair was oh-so-sexy, and he had such a kind soul.

Yet, for the past couple of weeks or so, she hadn't been able to enjoy sex to the point of climax. Not once. No fault of his, and she had hoped, no fault of hers.

It was just a dry spell, she told herself. Just something weird. No big deal.

The more she tried to calm herself, though, the more worked up she became.

It irritated her that she could not do this simple thing.

She looked at herself in the rear-view mirror.

At nearing forty, she was no prize. The sags of her breasts complimented her dark bags around the eyes. She wasn't thin, and did not view herself as attractive by any stretch of the imagination.

She drove an old beat up pick up truck, and worked long hours.

What was she doing with a man barely over half her age? She was old enough to be his mother for crying aloud.

Yet, he pushed his way into his life. Oh, she remembered their first discussions, the disagreements, but no arguments. Neither was the arguing type. They had only had a couple of serious fights in the four or so years they had known each other. They chalked those up to not listening to one another.

She pulled into the Family Creek Medical Plaza and dropped the antiquated Ranger into the, 'employee of the month' parking. She got out and stretched, her long, flowing brown skirt complimented her chestnut hair. The wind was soft, as it usually was in the early summer morning. This was her favorite time of the day, and she always felt it was a waste to work in the early morning. On her days off, she would just quietly relax in the early morning until he would hold her hand to let her know he was awake.

Neither one of them understood it, but ever since they had started sleeping together, when they awoke, one would wake right after the other. It was a weird, odd thing. Then again, they were weird, odd people, at least in their minds.

He was a highly successful graphic artist, and she was an office manager who wrote science-fiction novels. She was just breaking into the professional realm, and had published many short stories and had been part of several zines. She liked writing, liked what it did with her. She found that she could do a lot more with writing than she could with drawing, although she always wanted to draw, even as a small child.

As she stepped into her office, the lead customer service representative, a tall, lanky woman named Hannah, greeted her.

"Hi Elaine," She said.

"Hey Hannah," Elaine replied.

"You look tired; can I get you some coffee?" Hannah offered.

"Please," Elaine replied. She put her coat on the rack and Hannah brought in a steaming mug of coffee.

"Just like your man, dark and sweet," Hannah said, sitting it on her desk.

Elaine chuckled and took a hit off the rich Arabica roast.

"So what havoc is on today's menu?" Elaine asked.

"We have that lunch, today, remember? The in-service? It's at the Applebee's down the street in the back room."

Hannah nodded. As long as the drug reps paid, she didn't give a shit.

They talked about some of the normal office things that would go on, and then Elaine got to work. Hannah left her alone, and closed her door, as she preferred.

Elaine listened to the radio intently as she worked, getting all of what she called the, 'corporate crap' out of the way quickly. She was working on the last quarter of her latest novel when her door was knocked upon.

"Come in," she called out.

Hannah came in, with her purse in hand, and keys jingling.

"Ready to go?"

Elaine looked at her, and then at the clock. It was quarter to noon. Quickly she grabbed for her bag and they headed out the door.

The luncheon was a very informal affair, all female, and the presentation was brief, and to the point. They talked lightly over salads and the discussion quickly devolved into two favorite subjects, food, and men.

They teased Elaine just a little bit for her young man, and she just smiled her big catty smile, yet, she was still stressed.

When she drove home, she had to admit to herself that she was really, really tense. She was wrapped tightly, and frankly could not bring herself to relax enough. Once at home, she slipped into something comfortable. Her husband rubbed at her shoulders, and he had supper waiting for her.

Later that night, she told him that she was tired, and not well.

Softly he rubbed at her tummy and asked her if it was her time.

"No," she said. "I think I'm just in a slump. Maybe it's some sort of minor depression or something.

Softly his lips ran from her earlobe to her shoulder in tiny, soft, delicate kisses. She felt her nipples harden under the pure white camisole, and a smile involuntarily crept across her face. She turned to him, not really actually wanting to have sex, but also not wanting to not have sex. She just didn't want to become frustrated again.

His kisses became only mildly insistive, trailing across the base of her throat, back up her chin, and softly puttering at her lips. Her tongue licked his, she let it be sucked into his mouth, and tenderly his face moved up in down, as if he were giving her head.

Gently he raised himself on her, and peppered her face with his feathery, tender kisses, and she became aroused, but was afraid of her body, afraid of being disappointed.

She felt his hand softly come up her camisole, and then tenderly rolled a nipple in his hand, and she decided to try again. Her nipples were a powerful erogenous zone for her, and then felt the camisole in her face as his scratchy beard sucked hungrily at her breasts.

From the beard, to her navel, to her thick mat of dusky-brown pubic hair his face traveled. The scent of her womanhood was light, delicate, and always aroused him. His tongue was hungry, inquisitive, and insisting. Softly it rolled past the small piece of flesh that was her clit.

She panted softly, and felt the tremor in her legs, and felt, just maybe she'd be able to do it. Softly his tongue played her nether regions and pleasured her in a teasing manner, just how she liked. She growled, she grunted, and just about at the point of climax, she turned away from him, pulling her pelvis away from his mouth, making a face.

"Fuck," she said softly, growling.

"What?" He asked.

"So close, but missed it," she said. She was nearly crying.

"Aw, sweetie," he said, and came up to cuddle her.

She burst into tears, and quivered in his arms. She was upset, ashamed, and felt utterly unattractive.

He softly stroked her hair, his hard penis quickly deflating, which, in her mind, added to her shame.

As the tears dried up, he put his forefinger and thumb to her chin and pointed her face to hers.

"I love you." He said.

She could only barely look at him, and replied, "I love you too."

Exhausted, more from the emotions of the event than for any physical activity, she fell asleep with her head nestled into the crook of his arm.

The next morning saw another blowjob for him. She figured he deserved it for putting up with his hysterical self, but when he tried to pleasure her, she declined him flatly.

"I need a day or two of rest," she said.

He looked at her oddly, but replied, "I'll have dinner waiting. We'll have a nice quiet evening. Hang out, watch some movies, or play some games or something."

"That's the plan, lover." She said. She kissed him on the lips and then headed out to work.

Halfway through her forty-minute commute the tears started to fall. She shook she quivered, and bawled. What was wrong with her, anyway? Was she pregnant? Was she stressed, what was the fucking deal?

In the parking lot, she managed to compose herself and got out of her car just as Hannah pulled in. Hannah stared at her as she got out of the car.

"Uh-oh. You got some trouble in paradise?" She asked.

"No, well," she shivered again, not wanting to cry. She clenched her teeth as her emotions betrayed her again, and a few soft, weeping tears came.

Hannah got her through the door and into her office, bringing her coffee. She waited until Elaine recomposed herself and then asked quietly, "now what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I, I… wish I knew. I can't…" She gesticulated, wanting to cry, but the ducts were dry.

"You can't what?" Hannah asked. She had pulled up a side chair and was holding Elaine's hand.

Elaine blurted it out, "I can't climax. It's driving me crazy."

"Oh. OH." Hannah replied, "That sucks like a three dollar hooker."

Elaine laughed, despite her difficulty.

"You just need a change of scenery. Go to the coast, the mountains, get away," Hannah said.

Elaine looked at her and shook her head, "we're pretty tight in the cash department."

Hannah shrugged, "well then go parking. It's a cheap date."

"Parking?" Elaine said.

"Parking, you know, parking? Like you used to do when you were a teenager. Where did you grow up, a convent?"

"I never did much of that," Elaine said.

"It's fun. Just find a dark place out in the woods and make out. It's hard as hell to come in a car, and that's sort of the idea."

"Huh? That's my problem."

"Trust me, it'll work you right up," Hannah said. "We go parking almost every weekend in the summertime. Drive up in the hills pull off on some fire road; jump the old man's bones. Sometimes we'll even go out into the woods and do it like they do on the Discovery Channel."

Elaine giggled.

"Made you laugh," Hannah said.

"Thanks, Hannah." She said.

"You're welcome. Just call me the Abigail Van Buren of the Medical Clinic," Hannah replied. She got Elaine some fresh coffee and let her be.

Elaine pondered the matter and then got on the phone to her husband.

"Marc? We're eating out tonight. I thought we'd grab some fast food and go cruising around. Break out of the mold, you know? Maybe we could go watch the moon rise or something."

She felt his smile into the phone "sounds like a plan, Elaine. I love you."

"I love you too," Elaine replied.

When she got home, she found Marc dressed in a pair of old blue jeans and a t-shirt. She thought for a moment, went into the bedroom, and rooted through her wardrobe for a moment or two. She smiled at him as he watched her, and then shooed him out.

She pulled out a short skirt, and a white plain blouse, and stripped down. From the dresser, she pulled out her sleaziest push-up bra, and her most tattered pair of panties. After slipping these on, she put her hair in twin laid back pigtails,

She put the skirt on, dropped into some sandals, and then buttoned up the blouse just enough to hide the bra. She looked at the reflection in the full-length bedroom mirror and smiled at herself, and wiggled her hips, watching the skirt shimmy. Her basic redressing took her back over twenty years, and she smiled, feeling like a teenager again.

Marc's eyes were wide as she paraded around the living room.

"Growl," he said, nuzzling her on the neck.

"Masher," she said, play swatting at him.

He pulled her tight, and she felt his cock through his jeans rubbing at her skirt. His head dipped low, sucking, and chewing on her face.

She giggled, and then felt herself get flush. With effort, she broke free and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Com'on, you. We've got a date to go on."

He cocked his eyebrow and she grabbed her keys.

She had no idea where they were going, and once they hit the freeway, she slipped the car in cruise control and put a chubby leg up on the hump in the middle. She cranked the stereo loud and rolled the windows down, and they both sang aloud to Steppenwolf's, "born to be wild."

An hour later of long, winding turns, they were coming to deeper forested areas. The scent of pine permeated the air, but of course, the modern world intruded, and they stopped at the golden starches for take-away.

The hot, crisp fries and mystery-meat burgers filled their bellies as the car sat in the parking lot.

She leaned over and licked a couple of salt crystals from the corner of his lips. He grabbed at her head, and kissed her deeply, sucking hungrily at her lips, and tongue. She felt her wetness start to grow and realized that Hannah was right. A simple change of scenery could work wonders.

Their kissing got more feverish and then, a loud whoop was heard outside. A car full of teenagers had caught sight on them, and Marc gave them the thumbs-up. Elaine looked at him, in a cross, but playful manner.

"Maybe we'd better find some privacy." He said.

She smiled at him, threw the truck in reverse, and burned rubber out of the restraint. The teenagers honked after them.

Within minutes, she found an old abandoned fire service road and went up it carefully. The gravel was not easy to maneuver on, but when she crested the hill, she found a wonderful view of stars, and a distant oversight to a nearby city.

"Wow," Marc said. "This is gorgeous."

She smiled and leaned into him, taking it in. He opened the car door and beckoned her out into the night.

He leaned his back against the front of the car and held her hips, grinding his cock into her butt, and chewing her neck tenderly. She felt his stiffness and took in the rising moon, felt the heat from the engine and the cool breeze of the forthcoming night. All of these things changed her, and caused her to be sexual once more.

His kisses sucked hungrily at her neck, marking her as if she were a teenager, running his lips down to his breasts.

Bodily, he manhandled her onto the hood of the truck, she felt its hot engine on her ass, and it nearly burned her. Roughly, he tore at her panties and flung them on the ground.

She quivered needfully, and felt her tension rise, but this time, she had no trepidation at all, and had no pre-programmed recipe for failure.

He knelt down and stuffed his stubbled face into her crotch, the prickly-pear sticks of his young beard rubbing against her tender, purple mons. Long swipes of his tongue caused her to moan lewdly and he even trailed down to her tart, pert, asshole.

She gripped against the truck as she felt her passion rise, her juices rolled into his mouth as she moaned again. Her legs lay to each side of his insistent face and the pursuit of her dark, musky flesh. She panted, growled, and quivered as her climax fired into his face, her cushy ass convulsing in his strong hands.

He licked at her until she was sore and pushed him away. His face glistened in the moonlight with her sex. He allowed her only to rest long enough to become calm, then pulled his thick dark tool out, and rammed into her, grabbing at both her nipples through the tattered bra.

He took considerably less time and left bruises on her hips where he had grabbed her so hard, roaring like a lion as he fired his hot seed into her wanting snatch. For her part, she came again, as powerfully as before, if not more so.

They lay together on the hood of the truck and watched the stars and the beautiful night.