My story took place some 30 years ago, when I was in the Army. I was visiting an Army post in the Western US, and had become friendly with one of the conference facilitators. We wound up alone in the restaurant after our group had gone, talking about our respective lives. She was divorced, one child, and currently seeing no one. She offered to show me some of the off-the-beaten-path places on the installation, and I accepted.
We drove around as the dusk deepened, ending up at the reservoir which served the post. She told me that young troops of both sexes often came there to get away from the barracks and 'make out'. We were alone on this particular evening; the setting was somewhat romantic, and we began flirting, eventually kissing. As we kissed, we became more passionate, and I began cupping her ample breasts. She didn't stop me, even when I insinuated my hand into her blouse and then into her bra. I lightly caressed her now-hard nipples; she just kissed me harder. I ventured my hand on her knee, then began touching her inner thigh under her skirt. She moved even closer, scooting from behind the steering wheel and slouching down in the seat. I inched my way to her crotch, lightly feeling her vulva through her panties. She was already wet, and began to moan as I touched her. I slipped a finger into the leg of her panties, and stroked her vulva with the back of my finger. All this time she was silent, save for heavy breathing and moaning. I began to tug on the crotch of her panties, an she lifted her butt off the seat to allow me to remove them. As I pulled them off, I could feel the crotch was soaked, and I smelt the slight aroma of her arousal. She was rubbing my back and the back of my neck as we continued to kiss.
I put my hand down between her now widespread legs; her skirt was bunched around her hips, and she began to push against my hand as I caressed her outer labia. I carefully inserted a finger into her vagina, as I located her clitoris with my thumb. She gasped when I touched her button, then clung tightly to me. I slowly began moving my finger in and out of her, then put the heel of my hand against her mons, avoiding direct contact with her now super-sensitive clitoris. She began rotating her pelvis against me, not letting go with her arms for an instant. She ground herself against my hand, now faster and more insistently. Gradually, she slowed her movements, making them more regular and deeper. I slipped a second finger into her vagina, and she pressed harder against my hand, slowly increasing her rhythm, until she hit her peak; she pressed herself as hard as she could against me and my hand. She raised her head, releasing my lips, and began to moan very lightly, saying 'oh, oh, oh, oh...' She then released me and sank against the seat cushion. I removed my hand, and licked one finger. She grabbed the other and licked it, sporting a huge smile.
'Wow! I feel like a teenager again!' she said. She placed her hand on my still rigid penis, feeling my own moisture on my trousers. 'I haven't enjoyed anything this much since my divorce', she said, as she slowly traced the outline of my penis. 'If you can wait, I have a nice queen-size bed at home...' The rest of the story is better, but it belongs in Whispering Lily.