stationary traveller

I woke, clambering slowly but surely up and out of the darkness of a deep sleep. Cars often make me drowsy when I’m just the passenger, especially so when I’d tilted the seat backwards earlier to a semi-prone position.

My eyes were still closed but I was aware that I could no longer hear the sound of the wheels nor the lowly hum of an ever-so quiet engine motoring down a road,. There was no motion, the kind you feel even when without seeing, and I’d been eyes wide shut for who knows how long, long enough to have made it home I guessed being that I’d worked out we had stopped.

Not only was I aware of us not moving I felt very tangibly a hand moving along my leg, my right leg, the one closest the driver, a driver who had offered me a lift home, an old friend I’d known for ages. I found my attention squarely focused on the hand, the way it moved, like water lapping me, gentle, rhythmical, and realised it was edging up the hem of my blue-print dress. It became quite hypnotic in its way, brushing as it did my bare leg from knee to hem and back again and back to hem which I was sure was slipping higher up my thigh.

I have to confess I was enjoying the feeling, it was soothing, tantalising, I even began following it like a slow melody and imaging tunes to soundtrack its progress.

And it progressed for several minutes, though I wasn’t sure when it started. I felt a cool breeze, my side window was open, I was certain of that; further proof if any was needed we were stationary.

Its touch made my skin fizz and shiver but only on the inside as the hem slipped higher now to the point I knew it had reached my knickers. This should have made me open my eyes; instead I chose to stay as I was even though surely he must have known I was awake. BY now I was fully aware we’d stopped but where I had no idea, and the hand belonged to him, my friend who wasn’t my boyfriend but nevertheless felt emboldened enough to be touching me so seductively here and now without even asking.

He was taking advantage, for sure, but then I wasn’t objecting was I? Instead I realised I was kind of revelling in the attention and the softness of his touch. My dress was higher now, very, in fact I felt him cunningly flick up the hem so that I knew by the coolness of the breeze now he exposed my pink underwear: how horny must I have been, or crazy, to be still here, eyes closed and letting him do this.

His hand slipped between my legs and I had to squirm, move my hips as he forced me an inch apart, anther inch with which he cupped my sex and rubbed his fingers into the cotton at which I unavoidably heard myself moan. It was becoming an almost out-of-body experience, as though I was watching myself being seduced in this car wherever we were parked, which I still didn’t know.

His other hand lifted my dress higher as he rubbed my inner thighs firmly, but within seconds his hand was over my breast, playing across both, squeezing and teasing then slipping one thin strap of the dress from my closest shoulder and pulling it down to reveal my black bra. Across my neck his hand cruised to finger the strap off my other shoulder and lower the top of the dress. His hands once again moving in time with his breathing that I heard up close and personal now across my breasts until he was tempted to slip down the cup closest him and edge out my breast. I felt the cool breeze through the window again this time licking over my nipple which he freely pinched and rolled making me man again and again, quietly. I was so tempted but also wary to open my eyes as though if I did this dream would suddenly end, even though I knew it wasn’t a dream, it was very, very real.

The hem around my waist and the top of my dress underneath my bra and one breast bared and at the mercy of his playful and insistent fingers.

For a few moments I had been distracted he’d moved the elastic of my knickers aside allowing him to touch my naked sex and urge me open a few more inches slipping inside me a single finger, my wet folds allowing him easy access. His fingering pushed me further into the reclined seat, my clothing in as much disarray as my mind now was.

Two fingers eased me wider diving deeper as I his lips wrapped around my bared nipple sucking, biting, pulling. His fingering became more vigorous at which I finally opened my eyes and adjusted my hip to accommodate his fervour. I glanced out of the window to find we were in a car park somewhere. There were trees; it was a mid-summer’s evening so still plenty of daylight with a sun not ready yet to give up the ghost. I realised anyone passing would clearly see what we were doing. A tiny panic flashed into my mind but was soon overcome by his fingering becoming even more vigorous that I grabbed the seat and flung back my head.

His teeth bit deep into my nipple though not breaking flesh just as I had to close my legs onto his encouraging hand and fingers still working their way into and out of my hips.  This just made him go all the faster, fucking me with his fingers until my body could no longer resist and imploded, every sinew contracting to a single vanishing point.

My orgasms was intense, so much so I was no longer concerned where we were, who might have noticed, or that it was even him who had clawed it to the surface. Time stopped as I curled up feeling his teeth slip for my nipple and his fingers pushed clear of my now ever-so tender thighs.

The mist cleared from my eyes, I was staring at the roof of the car, I could hear him beside me and felt his eyes on me. I could even feel his smile without seeing it, orgasm always for a short time afterwards seem to give me a kind of sixth sense that I can’t explain. My fingers felt like they penetrated the upholstery as I relaxed them one finger at a time. My own breath began to find its feet again as the breeze continued its innocent trails through the open window, almost embarrassed as to what it had just witnessed.

I felt his hand again, adjusting my dress over my bra once again and lowering the hem back down concealing my pink knickers and my thighs still feeling the shockwaves. On turning to face him he was beaming, this made me smile also and for a moment I thought one of us was going to say something but neither spoke, the smiles seemed to say it all. I was still in the reclining position when he buckled my seatbelt then his and started the engine and turned out of this car park.

He’s still not my boyfriend but he certainly is now on my list of friends with benefits.

© Emmaleela


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