Night Heat

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He takes you downtown for a dinner & more.
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Zachary
Zachary
4 Followers

Dear Meghan,

You thought that I was crazy for buying this old car but I think that you just do not know how to appreciate it. A pearl white '68 Cadillac Convertible de Ville is simply the very best way to enjoy an aimless drive on a hot summer evening. Let me tell you why.

We've been out for dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. You do not park a car like this on the street so we have parked in the garage at the Ambassador Hotel. We have had a very relaxed and enjoyable dinner and after dessert and more than a few drinks, cruise out onto Third Avenue at about half past nine. The radio is playing an Eddie Van Halen tune at a good clip, the bass thumping. The sun has set and dusk is rising about us. The temperature takes no notice of the sunset and after the air-conditioned restaurant, the heat of the night is as thick as fog. We have prepared for the heat with our attire. I am wearing light cotton drill slacks and a polo shirt with canvas espadrilles. You are wearing a sundress and white strappy high heels. Nothing else, just the dress and the heels.

As I drive west, you slide down in the seat and open your legs a bit to let the cool air from the fan refresh you. The ancient white leather of the seat is as soft and as smooth as a mink pelt. The ladies of the evening are lined up along the avenue and have taken advantage of the heat by wearing their briefest skirts. Many have dispensed with outerwear altogether and are showing themselves off in garters, stockings, panties and bras.

We stop at a light and you and one of the girls take a good look at each other. You are immediately struck by the similarities between you. She is a beautiful blonde with full red lips, breasts straining against the fabric of her dress, curvy legs topped by an ass that is designed to incite a riot. You cannot take your eyes away from her, nor can she take her eyes from you. You both think that you are looking in a mirror reflection that has a life of its own. The light changes. We drive away. She blows you a kiss. Your lips are suddenly dry and you wonder if she has seen you dart your tongue from your mouth to moisten them.

The next stoplight brings another vision. This woman is a different from you as the other had been identical. She has hair so dark that it reflects the headlights of passing cars. Her olive skin is contrasted by her clothing. Her shoes, see-through lace mini skirt, stockings, garter belt, panties (the kind that just has a string going up the ass) and bra are all pure white lace. Her nipples can be seen clearly through her bra, the areolae peeking over the top. Her pants are so tiny that there cannot possibly be any pubes to hide. Unlike our first friend, she pays no attention to you at all. She is in the process of closing a sale with a prospective client and she is squeezing his prick through his pants. Without knowing why, you reach over to do the same to me. As you do, she looks up for just a moment and winks at you. The light changes. We drive away. But your mind keeps going back to that blonde.

You have never seen a parade of women like this before, and this evening provides a perfect introduction. The following blocks are an album of snapshots of women, an ass peeking out of a skirt too short, a curly mane of shoulder length auburn hair, nipples through thin cotton, full pouty lips in shiny red gloss, long legs in silken seamed stockings and impossibly high heels, a pussy revealed for a moment by a wrap skirt blowing up in the hot breeze. But your mind keeps going back to that blonde.

We head south, not talking about what we have seen. By themselves your legs have opened up a bit more and you slide down further in the seat. After a few minutes you turn to me and say, "She wanted you." There is no doubt who you are talking about. I reply "She wanted you." You know this before it is said, but you do not want to say it yourself. I ask, "Do you want her?" You do not answer. But your mind keeps going back to that blonde.

We continue to head south and at stoplights we neck like teenagers. I caress you as we kiss, first your hair, your neck, your back, then your leg, your breast, your ass. As my fingers whisper up your thigh, your knees part to make room. Just as my fingertips slide toward where you are hot and just a bit moist the light changes and we are moving again. You return my caresses. You explore my ribs, my thighs, my nipples. You reach down and again squeeze me through my trousers and find me hard.

"You're so exited" you say.

"Aren't you?" I ask.

"Not like you!" you say, but you are wrong.

"Show me your cunt." You draw your skirt up and catch your breath at what you see. Your lips are full and pouty. Your clit is red, almost purple and stands up proudly, engorged and hard. Without prompting, you reach down to explore with your own fingers. Your lips are sensitive and you avoid touching your clit, out of fear. You are wet and in search of more honey you slide a finger inside. It is like opening a floodgate. As you open up, your fluid almost gushes out, drenching your fingers and seeping onto your skirt. You do not want to stain your skirt and so you pull it up around your waist so that your ass is sitting directly on the leather seat. You squirm a bit at the touch. You pump your fingers in and out a few times and then decide to wait. You push your skirt back down in front and cross your legs. At the next light I lean over to kiss you and find you more than receptive. As we kiss I feel your breasts through your dress and then tug at it to pull it down on one side. Your right breast pops free and I squeeze the nipple. You do not cover your breast again as we drive on; it is getting dark, the door of the car is high and almost nobody notices your nakedness. The cool breeze feels good and makes your nipple even harder. After a few blocks, as the traffic thins, you pull the other side down.

We continue to head south and, by and by, you ask where we are going.

"To Lakeview Park".

"Good", you reply.

It is fully dark as we enter the park but the stars are brilliant and the moon is full. We both can perfectly well see what we need to see. I park the car in a spot overlooking the lake and shut off the lights and ignition.

I slide the seat all the way back and right away you climb on to my lap facing me, one knee on either side of me. All of the tension on the past half-hour is expressed in your kisses. You hold my face as you kiss my lips, my cheeks, my chin. You bite my lips and ears gently at first and then more roughly. You then slide your hands to the back of my head and press my face to your breasts. You throw your head back as I suck your breasts, lashing your nipples with my tongue. You are rocking back and forth on my lap, dry-humping against the erection in my pants. You lean forward and tear my shirt from my pants, and then up over my head. Pressing my face back to your breasts, you reach down and caress and pinch my nipples. My hands are around your waist and I knead and stroke your ass. I reach up and find the zipper's tab and start to pull it down. There is a rustle of fabric and the dress comes off over your head; you are naked but for your shoes. You lean back and rest your elbows on the dashboard to let me see your body. I run my fingertips from your collarbones down to your ribs, up to your tits. Your nipples are so erect that they are almost painful. I spend just a moment teasing them before moving my hands down to your belly, your hips, your ass and your pussy. We kiss for the longest time. As excited as each of us is, we want the feeling to last; we have plenty of time. As we kiss, you excite us both by swaying back and forth with your upper body to lightly rub your nipples against my chest. The hair on my chest tickles you and makes you squirm. This grinds your cunt down against the bulge in my pants and the coarse fabric stimulates your clit.

You reach down and start to unfasten my zipper. The zipper jams in the folds of material and you tug harder at it, frustrated. I ease you off my lap and pull the zipper down the rest of the way. You kneel on the seat and reach forward into my pants and take my prick out. You stroke and caress it and your hands feel very good; neither too cool nor too warm and very soft. You unfasten my belt and the waistband of my pants and start to slide them down over my hips. As my ass hits the leather of the seat my hard-on wilts just a bit. You lean over and gently suck it into your warm, wet mouth and it quickly regains its hardness. As you suck, I stroke your back with my right hand and slowly work my way down to your ass. After kneading your ass for awhile I reach further still and slide my middle finger into your pussy. You are very excited by what you have seen and felt and done this evening and you are very wet. I slide first one finger and then a second in with no trouble. Without taking your mouth from my cock, you make a sound that is half groan and half squeal and spread your legs farther so that I can stroke your clit. We are both very excited by this but it isn't enough. We want to fuck.

You give my prick one last bite and straighten up. Your body is so beautiful in the moonlight. The soft light puts your curves into shadow and your skin seems to glow. You slide your right knee over my lap again and sit astride my lap. You lean forward and take your weight on your knees. This puts your breasts right in front of my mouth and I cannot resist the temptation to reach out with my tongue and tweak your nipples. You reach down between your legs, grasp my prick in your right hand and guide it into you. As you slide down my pole a soft sigh escapes your throat. You start to ride me, sliding me in and out of your quim, rocking back and forth on your knees, holding the seat back behind my head for support. As you rise up on each stroke your chest presses into my face, pushing my head back into the seat.

You are using me like a tool for your own satisfaction, but I do not mind one bit. On the contrary, I grab your ass on both sides and help you rock back and forth. You lean back and again rest your elbows on the dash and your body is before me in all its beauty and glory. I take in the vision from the ecstasy and tension on your face, down your slender, delicate throat, to your beautiful smooth shoulders, to your breasts bouncing with each stroke, to your belly, rounded with the curves of a real woman, to your hips with your pelvis giving shape to the curves of softer flesh. And finally to your cunt, your lips almost hairless, your clit hard and red.

You know how visual I am. With a vision like this before me, it will not be long before I lose control. But we are both the pawns of our passion. There is no pacing of this race, no slowing down to savour the moment and make it last. We are both giving each other all that we have. I think that it is I who starts to come first. My hamstrings flex, my back tenses, the tendons in my neck stand out and my hips rise up off the seat. I begin to shoot inside you and my orgasm ignites yours. Every neuron in your body fires, every muscle contracts. You throw yourself forward onto me and crush your body onto mine. Your hands go to the back of my head and press my mouth to your breasts. You squeeze me as though you cannot let go. You slam harder and harder onto me, thrusting me deeper and deeper into you. Your head is thrown back and you cry out in a guttural moan. Your body is frozen in passion for the longest of moments and then collapses, spent.

I do not know how long we rest together. Sooner or later, we know, we will have to compose ourselves, get decent and be on our way. But there is no rush.

I'd like to know where you would like to go after this experience. Any time you would like to tell me some of your own stories, I'd love to listen. If you'd rather put them in a letter as I have, you know how to reach me.

Zachary
Zachary
4 Followers
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