Back from the Wake

Me: Driving still?

Her: Still awhile to go.

Me: So your kid had to miss school today.

Her: Yeah, all the events were yesterday. And it's too long a drive to make. So it's Monday on the interstate.

Me: I'm sorry.

Her: Thanks.

Me: Send me a pic of a body part. Anything. A knee. Just put me there.

Her: Still driving

Me: You are driving? Or X?

Her: He has a name you know.

Me: Not to me.

Me: He's just the guy who houses you while you think about fucking me.

Me: Again.

Her: Sigh.

Me: So who's driving?

Her: X

Me: Ok, send me a pic.

Me: I know you can be smooth about it.

*You have received a picture*

Me: Wow. You outdid yourself. A+++!

Me: Those tits look great in that sweater.

Cold weather favors you.

Her: When you are an Irish redhead it's the only good season.

Me: In other news Notre Dame Cathedral is burning.

Her: Yes. I find myself thinking that while I realize it's a significant development, I didn't know it was this important to everyone I know on FB.

Me: People always act like these things affect them personally.

Her: Exactly. Wtf people. Go back to your TPS reports and stop faking relevancy.

*You have received a picture*

Her: WHY?

Me: What? Dresses on Instagram? You don't like those?

Me: What's wrong with them?

Her: They look like they were patched together from Willy Nelson's used dew rag collection.

Me: I sent links to the wife. She is thinking of buying one. Looks very European.

Her: If Willy is from Europe, sure.

Me: Those look Italian countryside.

Her: Well, you would know. Not me. Not us.

Me: You guys should travel more.

Her: Not our thing. Crowds. Heat. Ick.

Me: You can take the girl out of the trailer park...

Her: Stop it. Be nice.

Me: Ok.

Me: So. About your tits.

Her: Here's another one!

*You have received a picture*

Me: Meh.

Her: You don't like them now? You just said you did?

Me: You've ruined those dresses with your Willie comments.

Her: hahahaha

Me: Getting back to your breasts...

Her: Still in car...

Me: Yes. I just wanted to discuss them.

Her: Ohhhh. Okay. Well they are still here, perched on my chest.

Me: Wish I was in the seat behind you. Friends on a drive.

Me: I'd blow on your neck.

Her: That's fire.

Me: I'd slip my hand up between the seat and the passenger door.

Me: Caress your side breast.

Her: Careful...

Me: Slide my hand a little more forward, tips of my fingers teasing your areola.

Me: Slide my hand back to your side, sliding down to the bottom of your shirt.

Her: Wet now.

Me: My fingers slipping under your shirt. You feel my cool fingertips against the warm skin of your side.

Me: They slide up and down, from the top of your jeans until they stop at your bra strap, then on back down again.

Me: Each time my hand travels down it slides a little bit lower. You feel my nails just barely under the rim of your panties.

Her: Mmmmm.

Me: Each time they slip down slightly lower, stretching the elastic a little more tautly as my fingers caress the skin between your thigh and your lower torso.

Me: As my hand slips out, the elastic pops a little louder and X turns his head towards you.

Me: You smile and shrug your shoulders as my hand hides against the small of your back.

Her: 

Me: He turns back to the road and my hand slides back down your pants.

Me: I push up closer to the back of your seat and you feel my hot exhalations on the skin under your ear...

Me: My hand can now go even further.

Me: It's reach now easily reaches the full front of your panties.

Her: Jesus.

Me: You know this because you can feel all of my fingers under your jeans, over the front of your underwear.

Me: My fingers can sense the increase in humidity.

Me: You feel like the car is speeding up as my hand slides under your panties.

Me: The small hairs on the edge of your orangey patch bend under the advance of my hand, which is starting to perspire.

Me: You feel my fingertips press through your forest, finally finding their goal, clumsily dipping into your suddenly slick crevice, feeling your heat as your liquids coat them.

Me: Now that my fingers have found their treasure they line up in a tight line and slide up and down , feeling the ridges and valleys within you.

Me: My fingers slide up and press tightly against your clit as you feel my thumb gently caressing your milky inner thigh.

Her: Soaked.

Me: Suddenly you are aware your breathing is growing noticeable and you struggle to bring it under control as your swelling clitoris battles for space with my index fingertip.

Me: The index finger is winning. You feel my nail against your clit like a knife against your throat. Everything pauses.

Me: X turns and sees your chest heaving and his eyes dart to the undulating surface of your jeans.

Me: Your eyes are wide open and you turn to him, scared and urgent.

Me: You open your mouth to explain but the next voice your hear is mine.

Me: "X, buddy, I'm going to need her back here for awhile."

Her: I'm going to slide off my seat.

Me: I'm sure you know how it goes from there. Sweat. Tears.

Me: One of my favorite memories is that time you swallowed me in that motel room. I'll always remember you popping up and trying to say "ta-da."

Me: But the cum in your mouth making it "ta-ra."

Her: Good memory.

Me: I can still see those tits bouncing as you rose up.

Her: Then I swallowed and drove straight to a parent/teacher conference.

Me: You've always been a good multitasker.

Me: By the way, every time I try to type tits, spellcheck changes it to toys.

Her: Kind of the same thing, really.

Me: Spellcheck knows us.

Her: My town. Almost home.

Me: He's going to get a good fuck soon.

Her: I'll only be thinking of you.

Her: As usual.

Me: Have fun. Wonder who he thinks you're texting.

Her: Joys of cell phones. He's two feet away.

Me: People sitting so close together and in completely different worlds. It's a great big beautiful tomorrow.

Her: Yes it is, baby. Yes it is.

Her: Bye.