Voyage from the Beach

Dropping my drawers in the car as I pulled away from the parking lot, I tried to make the situation look as innocent as possible: sorry, officer, I hadn't noticed my underwear nestling around my ankles like that. I mean, Nicholas R. Blank was not the kind of guy who jerked off in cars, or spent the hours he was supposed to be looking for a job in the library with his fly open reading Henry Miller, or any such deviant things.

No, Nicholas Blank was just a little horny, was all, on account of spending an hour on the local nude beach with a lovely Puerto Rican lass with a lisp and a dimpled ass and some prominent freckled areas, and he thought the wind ruffling his pubic hair might let off some steam. So my pants were down below my knees, and my member was up, being caressed by the breeze and, when not downshifting, my free hand. After a few minutes of kneading, a white bubble burst into a slow stream, and I laid off, not wanting to end it too soon.

Pulling onto the pike and immediately lost in midday traffic, I found myself embarrassed by the my inevitable visibility. I had always wanted to loose my prick before the world, but the car was not the venue I imagined: anyone could look in from any side and see my throbbing nakedness. My underwear was bunching up beneath my left foot to boot, and I feared I wouldn't be able to get it back up again, should the need arise.

But few people pay attention to anyone on the road who's not in their way somehow, and I can be almost invisible. I pulled off down a more secluded turnoff and resumed rubbing, driving slowly and steadily in the left lane. My cock was at the bursting point, sore at its tip, flesh chafed, veins pounding, and every time I came close to climax I would let it go, to preserve the sensation.

I was stopped at a light enjoying the pulsation in my crotch when a minivan pulled up alongside me and presented the genial face of a somewhat chunky cherub of a woman, chuckling. As the van halted she turned to look down into the car, only to do a double take. I scrambled for something with which to veil my cock, but only came up with a damp oil rag, which I draped over it. It was as if someone decided to put up a tent in my lap. At its zenith, the rag had become dark from the dampness. I hadn't planned on this. I turned to look at her casually, but it was nothing: her face lit up, and she beamed. Who was I kidding? I waved, and she back at me. The light changed, but neither of us pulled away. We stared hesitantly at each other for a couple more moments, but just as she turned to pull away, I doffed the rag and presented my gleaming, shuddering cock. Her smile broadened. I gave it a few tugs, and she tsk-tsked me, waving a finger, and drove off.

A close one, I thought, as I pulled my pants up so that they sat beneath me. If only that was the end of it.

I had to finish myself off. The build-up was too great, but I had nothing to hold the semen with, and I didn't feel like having to go home and clean the car out, so I pulled off at a rest area on the pike and up to what seemed to be a relatively deserted convenience store. No clerk was in sight. I could slip into the shop, nab something to sponge up the mess with, and give myself one or two perfunctory pulls and end it--as soon as my erection had diminished to the point where I could get my cock back into my pants, that is: I am a bashful boy, after all. But there was no rush. Nobody around. My prick made its descent slowly.

Then I head the tires squealing up next to me, and the bawdy laughter of two, middle-aged, too-tanned broads. I froze. My cock danced. I could do nothing.

The bleach blonde one was the first to notice my predicament. She stopped laughing, and I could feel her staring down in the car. From the corner of my eye I could see her, slackjawed, gesturing to her brunette friend to come take a look-see.

I could no longer ignore them, so I turned and flashed them as much of a innocent smile as I could muster. They both grinned back admiringly. The glass and mirrors fogged.

Blondie reached out and tapped on the window. "How you doin' in there, partner?" There was a subtle thwap as my load struck the steering wheel. I groaned.