Your Hot Flesh

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I'm alone with you in my car and I want you.
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While you and I are sitting here, I want to see if I can arouse you. Okay? My wife's away, and – thank God! – that bozo you call a husband is away, too. Yeah, I know that's a tough word to take, but you would agree, wouldn't you, that it's a fair word to use describing him, right? Thanks, I appreciate that.

So, look, just picture where we are: in my car, which is a nice roomy Explorer, sitting on a country road five miles outside Tulleville. We could stretch out if we wanted to. Lie down, touch each other. It's dark out, even though it's not too late at night. And there'd be nothing to worry about, because your boy's at grandma's, and my girl's over with her friend, Annie, and no one really cares what we're doing, except me and you. I was glad when you suggested that we go out and look at the stars instead of driving straight home from Bill's place, because if I took you home and had to go home myself, I don't know what I'd do. Probably – yeah – probably drink a beer and sit in front of the television and be bored silly. That or go to bed.

Many guys can get aroused by a woman really quickly. Me, I'm different. Mostly, I'm satisfied with Barb. We've been together a long time, and you know her – well, yeah, I almost forgot, you knew her back in high school, didn't you? Oh, she was a bitch, then? I'm not surprised, I can see it in her sometimes, although mostly I real dig her, and why not? She has real great tits and ass, and she sucks me sweet until I'm dry. Hey, I think you're blushing! But don't they say that all a man wants is for his woman to take his dick in her mouth and he's happy? No, don't laugh – I'm not making that up, I'm just paraphrasing something I read in a woman's mag that I was reading at the dentist's office because there wasn't anything else there to read.

If you want to, we can compare notes. I mean, I'll tell you how I go down on Barb and you can tell me how Sam takes you. No, I'm not blushing, dammit – no, I really want to tell you. I've honestly never told anyone, and for once in my life I'd like to tell someone, especially you.

You – yes, you. Really. I've been thinking about you, and probably too much. So when Barb went away, and I found out that Mr. Bozo wasn't going to be home, it started to intrigue me. I daydream about you sometime. Well, why not? I see you when I go into Stagby's and you're working behind the counter. I sort of like it when you see me and your eyes light up. Don't think I haven't noticed it. And I'll bet mine change, too. Am I right? Thank you, I sort of guessed that. I try to be discreet but sometimes . . . .

Like, last week I was at Stagby's, and you had to go up on one of those ladders and get something off the shelf. So I watched you (and I don't think I was the only guy doing it, either!) You went up there, and you reached over your head to get down that box, and I think your breasts went up almost to a point. The guy next to me, in fact, looked at me, said, "Yum!" and shook his head, then went about his business. I didn't say anything, but I could feel my crotch start rumbling (to coin a phrase).

I went home and there was no one there. Barb and I – well, to tell the truth, we haven't been getting along that great. I haven't had her in bed for about two weeks, and now, of course, she's gone off on that junket of hers. When I saw you up the ladder at Stagby's, I came home and I went to the john and I jacked off. I kept thinking about you and wishing you were right there with me and I couldn't help it. My cock's a nice size, and it fits in my hand. Sometimes I use toothpaste, because it stings and gives me a real charge. Anyway, I sat there and I came in about twenty seconds, imaging you sitting there, going up and down on my cock.

I can see you're blushing again. Do you do that a lot? Just kidding!

Look, let's imagine. I'm not going to touch you unless and until you say, "Go!" But I'm going to imagine how you go outside in the dark and pull down your pants and then you delicately take off your panties and stand out there, smiling, swinging it around on your finger. "Yes," you'll be saying, "let's do it, Sweetcakes." (That's my imaginery nickname for me which in my imagination you use). Then you come back inside and you lay the seat down and I can feel your pussy right there between your lovely legs. You reach up and look at me, and then you wink and say, "Now what?" So I lean over, and I'm smelling that hot, sweet aroma of your cunt, and my tongue comes out, and I lick it. Shit! I'm in heaven. "Let me get my legs up," you say, and then your left leg is up over the seat and your right is on the dashboard, and I can dive right into that delectable morass of flesh and smell.

I'm positively slurping, it's like all the heavenly things I love to smell and taste – pickled herring, chocolate milk shake, camembert cheese – it's all mixed up and it pours into my mouth. You're gushing. I can't imagine how you got so hot so quick, but maybe you were dreaming about my tongue on your clit and now that my teeth and lips are there, it's just too much to bear.

"Oh, God!" you groan. "Touch me! My tits, touch them." You grab them, and then as I'm still working on your pussy, you're frantically pulling at your sweater, trying to wriggle out of your bra.

"Mmmph!" I say. I come up for air. "You are one swank woman." I swoop my right hand under the edge of your sweater and your breast glides into my hand. My other hand dives down into your hot cunt and I kiss you with cunt juice all over my puss. I laugh, and nearly cry with the joy of it all.

"I want your cock, John!" you say. "I want you to bury yourself inside of me!"

"God, I don't want to stop and undress. I want my lips to suck out every drop of juice inside you!"

Are you getting hot as I tell you all this? Do you want me to touch you now?

Let's imagine what you do to me. I'm out of my clothes, and you're all over my cock. Your mouth is like liquid velvet, and you suck me right to my balls. Your hands hold me, and I'm jacked up to the moon. The head of my prick is a deep purple, and I gasp because I don't want to explode, I want to push myself into that love-pile between your legs and hold your butt and stick my finger up your ass until I can touch myself through your flesh. We're outside now, and it's frosty, but you lean against the cold steel of the car and push your pink ass out at me and say, "Fuck me, John! Oh, do it, I want your cock inside me like nothing I've ever wanted in my whole life!" So I stand there, bare-assed, but my prick is so hard I think I could lift twenty pounds with it and flick it into the air. I stand behind you, and then I slide into that steaming crack, I take both hands and cup your heavy breasts, and then I am pounding and you are screaming and not caring who hears and I am in and out and in and out and in and out and you are gushing, so your juice is streaming down your legs and I come in a gigantic steam and you say "Ahhhhh!!!!"

Your eyes are wide, do you know? You are positively panting, Babe, and I haven't touched you. So, can we do it for real? While we're both hot.

Your smile shows me. Your hand guides me. And you call me Sweetcakes.

Thank you. Thank you. I laugh. God, this is wonderful! We're not either of us going to forget this.

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