Auto Erotica

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I was in my early 20s when I discovered that jacking off in the car, while admittedly not the safest thing to do, nonetheless proved to alleviate even the worst case of blue balls, a condition with which I regularly found myself afflicted. It was brought on by making out very vigorously and as often as possible with my girlfriend who was justly proud proud of her 36-C boobs, among the largest to be found anywhere around the college campus.



At first calling herself 'Agent 36,' it wasn't long before she proudly made it known to anyone who showed even the slightest interest (a group which included just about every male around) that she had just qualified for a promotion and now wished to be referred to as 'Agent 38.' I found this to be a request with which I could easily comply, largely due to the way she always made a point of wearing clothing whenever we went out for a night on the town which she had intentionally selected based its ability to place her magnificent endowment on display. It wasn't long thereafter that she expanded this practice to include short, tight skirts which resulted not only in heads turning wherever we went, her long, firm legs instantly grabbing the attention of men and women alike (and making me feel exceedingly horny as well), but also provided me much easier access to her nether regions later on during the all-important portion of the date which we euphemistically referred to as 'saying goodnight.'



Unfortunately, while I was able to satisfy her with some heavy duty petting which began with kissing and culminated by my massaging her clit, she never managed to summon up the courage or the strength to reciprocate. Naturally, this resulted in my being left with a hard-on so intense as to be painful. That, coupled with the fact that my nuts by that time had been stimulated far past the point normally required to get them to release their load, invariably left me in a painful state known far and wide as blue balls.



Since a major case of blue balls is quite painful, as anyone who's ever experiencd it can attest, quite often I found it necessary to alleviate the discomfort on the drive home. It was in such situations that I found blessed and much needed release by using skills I'd developed ever since my accidental discovery of their basics so many years before. What follows is the story of the first time I had found it necessary to seek such relief.



Fortunately for me, the rural roads I took were completely free of any other traffic that late at night, because soon my mind would be occupied by urges far more primal than are consistant with the safe operation of a motor vehicle.



When I was finally able to do so without taking any unnecessary risks, I began my self-administered treatment by freeing my boner, which by now was painfully stiff, from the restraints imposed upon it by my trousers which were clearly never designed to be worn by anyone in my present condition.



However, it was still never enough just to take my dick out and give it some fresh air. Once it had been freed from captivity and allowed to grow unrestricted to its full size, the pain caused by its captivity eased a bit, only to be replaced by an overpowering need for the release which only a good, hard ejaculation could provide.



So being urged on, not only by the relief promised by finally dissapating the pressure which by now had reached critical levels, but also by my increasingly painful balls whose condition I knew from past experience would only deteriorate without immediate attention, I began the final phase of treatment. Without any hesitation, I started stroking my cock, slowly at first in order to minimize any damage which might result from being caught on my fly.



Once I was satisfied that my cock was free to move as the situation dictated, I started stroking faster, by now desparate to find an end to the misery caused by my need to ejaculate. The faster I stroked, the harder my grip became, contributing its own sensations and by doing so, bringing me ever closer to climax.



Faster and faster I continued stroking my aching dick. Tighter and tighter became my grip on its shaft. Faster and tighter, faster and tighter, faster and tighter, I continued stroking, knowing that with every stroke I was bringing myself ever closer to an orgasm which had been building all night. It was going to be one to remember.



In very little time, my hand was moving so fast that, had I been able to see it, it would have been just a blur. I knew that I was just about to come when my legs started to stiffen, causing the pressure on the accelerator to increase. The closer I came to coming, the harder I pressed the gas pedal.



After what seemed an eternity, my relief finally came in the form of an orgasm unlike any I'd ever experienced before. As wave after wave swept over me, I was oblivious to everything but my cock, which was by now completly out of control, as it proceeded to soak everything in the area with one of the biggest loads it had ever delivered.



Eventually, my cock's ejaculatory spasms began to subside, having done their duty by emptying my still-aching balls of every last drop of of their contents.



As my orgasm began to ease its grip, I slowly became aware of the effect it had had on my driving, which was normally characterized by a strict compliance with the posted speed limit. Howewver, these were hardly normal circumstances in that I realized I was now doing nearly 100 mph, due largely to the involuntary stiffening of my legs as my orgasm approached.



Not wishing to spoil my perfect driving record by earning a certificate recognizing my achievement from any highway safety speed monitors, to say nothing of the hazard of driving down a two lane blacktop at such a speed while in the throes of one of the most intense climaxes I'd ever experienced, I slowed back down to the posted speed limit of 45 mph.



Once I'd slowed to a more reasonable speed, I became aware of the true volume of semen my climax had produced. It was on the steering wheel. It was on the seat. It was on the floor, where it had already begun to form little puddles of cum. Some even had been shot far enough by the intensity of my cock's orgasmic spasms to land on the speedometer, with some making it all the way to the windshield. But it seemed as if the vast majority had ended up on my pants, which by that time had become one big cum stain. This left whatever they couldn't absorb to drip on to areas of the seat which had thus far managed to escape being inundated despite the prodigious amount of ejaculate produced in the greatest release of sexual energy I'd experienced since my first time so many years before.



After that, I took extra care whenever I found myself once again to be the victim of blue balls. I never wanted to take the chances I'd taken the first time. Then again, I never again experienced as intense orgasm as I received from my first experience with beating off while driving.

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