tagExhibitionist & VoyeurThe Long Ride Home

The Long Ride Home

byjustjohn1013©

Mmmm, such an unseasonably warm night, I'm so glad you wore that dress. We were really lucky to get those great seats up front for the concert. The crowd is alive, swaying to and fro, we're all losing ourselves in the music. What is it about watching musicians play that's so intoxicating, seeing their expressions as the rhythm flows from their fingers?

Bumping against you, my arms circling you, my desire is so very evident. Kissing your neck as we move to the beat, I feel the humming in your throat. If it weren't for the crowd, I'd take you right here. I love to whisper your name in your ear, telling you just how good you look in that short, sexy dress. My hands are everywhere, searing your skin as I touch, the heat that you know will warm you as the night grows cooler. I love it when you grind your ass against me, grinning back at me letting me know that you know my weakness.

Of course the show is over too quickly, and hand-in-hand we jostle our way to the car. It's such a warm night, we pop the top off the car and relax, sitting down for the first time of the night.

Damn this traffic is miserable, bumper to bumper and a sea of red brake lights as far as the eye can see.

One of your hands is in mine; we're not speaking much, just coming down from the high of the show, and thinking of the pleasure still to come.

Your other hand is doodling on your leg, small circles travelling higher and higher up that velvety thigh; the cool metal of your rings sparkling with reflections of the moon, acting like some kind of beacon for the sensuous trip your fingers are taking.

The hem of your dress has ridden up very high on your thighs as you slide down lower in the seat and your hand continues on it's journey. Oh how I wish it were my hand on your thigh, or better yet my tongue, soaking up the smoothness. But there is something to be said for watching you, your hands knowing that path so well. And as good as the hands of a gentle and caring lover might feel, let's face it, one's own hand always knows just the right touch.

I'm struggling now, a constant battle between watching the road and watching the sexy scene unfolding right next to me. Thank god for the traffic! Such a serene look on your face, your eyes gazing at mine. You're laughing at my uncertainty of where to look....I want to see your face, I want to see your hand, I need to see the road. My eyes are drawn back to your lap, your fingers have finally reached your silk panties, oh fuck they look so good, and as soft as they are, they're not nearly as soft as the hot wetness that lies beneath.

A finger disappears under the silk, and a moan can be heard escaping from your lips which are forming a smile of relief.

Just then a big pickup passes slowly on your side, the guy inside can't believe what he's seeing, trying to look casually so his own girl doesn't notice. As he drives on we can see his face in the mirror, furtively glancing back....now he slows down, wanting another peek, but only getting honks from the cars behind.

You look back at me, smiling, enjoying the attention, but the look on your face lets me know this show is all for me, and for you.

Your fingers are now stretching the silk of your panties, burrowing under as they drown in your slickness. Your hips have started moving, and your ass slides on the leather of the seat.

Traffic on your side has slowed, and just as we come up on the truck again, you take out your hand and place your glistening fingers into your mouth...we laugh as our new friend's mouth gapes open.

But you quickly turn back, and your fingers resume their place on your flesh. I love watching your face as you touch yourself, so obviously in delight. Your other hand still holds mine, our fingers dancing together.

I see your nipples pressing against the thin material of your dress, your brow becomes creased and I feel your pulse pounding through the fingers of your hand. The music has primed you, you're already so close, and your fingers have definitely worked magic. Your head flings back as your hand squeezes mine and a loud growl pours from your lips.

Slumping down lower in your seat you take my hand and place it over yours, letting me feel the heat and the slippery wetness that'll soon be mine. And now the night is almost complete, the worries about traffic melting away, promises of that sweet gift filling my mind.

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byjustjohn1013© 1 comments/ 21361 views/ 2 favorites

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