Aphrodite in Athens

And at that point the man's hand passed through the opening at the top of our rear window. It couldn't really get in past the lower forearm, but there it was, with reaching, probing fingers that twitched with desire to touch. Aphrodite shrank away from the hand. I could have slapped it away. It stopped, because it couldn't get in any further, and we looked at it there. There was something pitiful about it. It seemed to be pining with desire.

I reached for the window crank. I rolled the window down another little inch and the hand came closer. Aphrodite and I just watched it. It seemed like the hand of a ghost. Her chest was rising and falling heavily, and so was mine. Another inch, and the hand was inches from Aphrodite's left breast. She drew away. I stopped her.

"Let him," I said, "it's OK." And with that I dropped the window one more time and the man's hand surged forward and fastened onto to Aphrodite's breast. She submitted to it, with a little help from me. I thrust up into her as best I could, she squirmed on top of me, the man fondled her desperately and managed to reach her other breast as well. He was stroking his cock furiously with his other hand and brought himself to orgasm.

His groans and the thrill and danger of what we had had done triggered the same in us. I felt myself gushing and pumping up inside of Aphrodite and I could feel her strong sucking contractions all along my shaft. I know we made sounds that other cars could hear.

The man withdrew his hand. I rolled up the window. He retreated. We collapsed, naked in each other's arms.