The day you spoke to me was one of the most magical days of my life. I was so hoping you'd notice me, and I knew you were looking at me more and more, but I was too shy to do anything about it. Who would have thought that a day that started out with brilliant sunshine would turn to shit so quickly with torrential rain, flooding and all the rest of it?
The day went from bad to worse and all the buses and trains were cancelled. I was standing at the bus stop dripping wet, and your car drove slowly past. I was soaked to the skin and shivering and ...oh....you stopped. You opened the messenger door and called, "Get in." Your car....that new BMW...I was worried the rain would soak the leather, but you didn't seem to mind. I fiddled with the seatbelt while you reached into the back seat, rummaged in your gym bag and produced a towel. It smelled of you. I got the worst off my hair and dried my arms and legs, but the dress.....ohhh fuck! Wet beyond any hope of a towel drying it, my summer dress had also betrayed me by turning transparent! My bra-less boobs were only covered by a thin, and now almost transparent piece of cotton. And my nipples and areolas.....unusually dark.....well....talk about being on display. But you, the complete gentleman, managed to cop an eyeful but without looking as if you did. I noticed the slight adjustment of the interior mirror though....and the passenger side door mirror. A quick glance and you got to see my boobs any time you like. The traffic eventually thinned out and the highway was moving quite quickly. I began to stop shivering as the vehicle's air con warmed me. That was good news in one way....at least my nipples weren't sticking up like little hat pegs any more. You chatted to me easily and told me about your wife and family, I told you.....what did I tell you....not much really. Live with parents....no boyfriend.....boring. When did we end up in this car park though? Oh, don't get me wrong, it was by mutual consent, but it was one of those wordless things. We both knew.....we both wanted the same thing. You because you find yourself with a girl over half your age, sitting next to you in an almost transparent dress.....me because a) I'm desperate for a fuck and b) I've always wanted to fuck a married man. You lean over and kiss me. I smell expensive cologne and damn....you're a good kisser. We tongue wrestle for ages and it sends shockwaves through me. "You're so wet," you say. I suddenly realise that you don't mean my dress. Your hand is between my legs which have opened freely and willingly to your touch. A little wriggling and my black panties are off and on the floor. When did the seat recline? I don't remember that happening, but maybe I was lost in the feelings your fingers are giving me. Oh, and wait....when did I open your trousers? Fucking hell! That's some cock! Your wife is a lucky woman. Fortunately, I bite the words back before I say them. Somehow, I don't think talking about your wife now will help matters along....and I do so much want them to move along. These cars must be bigger than I thought. You're between my legs now and kissing my vagina. Damn....you'll make me cum doing this. I cum so easily when someone's licking me. No. I don't want to cum like this. I pull you up on top of me. Your cock rides my pubic bone and your balls tickle my clit. Ohhhh shit.....this could do it as well. I wait until you're pulling back and I pick my moment to tilt my pelvis upwards. Your cock, as slippery as I am slides between my wet folds and the next thrust......ohhhh fuckkkkkkkk. I cum the moment you embed that monster inside me, but I'm not done yet. I look deep into your brown eyes. Somehow, I know that now I can mention your wife. Don't ask me how or why but there is something you want, something you need, something you are too much the gentleman to ask for unless I lead. "I want you to fuck me in every way you wish you could fuck your wife. Do whatever you need to do, say whatever you need to say." You stop dead in your tracks, but since you're buried deep in me, that doesn't bother me at all. "Do you mean it.....even.....even if I want to talk.....dirty?" I tell you that talking dirty really does it for me in every way. What good Catholic girl doesn't like a bit of dirty talk now and then? You resume your deep languorous fucking. Full length strokes that alternately fill me and leave me almost weeping for more. It takes you a moment or two to relax. I help by begging, "Fuck me. Fuck my cunt." My words are rewarded with the kind of slamming I love. It almost bruises me, and it does hurt, but in a nice way. I feel you take a deep breath. Your mouth opens, but then you chicken out. I hold your face between my hands. "Say whatever you want, call me whatever you want. The dirtier the better. Make me cum in your lovely new car." You ram inside me, making me gasp. Is it my imagination, or has your cock grown still bigger. Is that even possible? I feel that it has. "You horny fucking bitch." The words course through me and seem directly connected to my clit. "You fucking whore." Oh my, yes, that's going to do the job. "Take my cock up your cunt, you fucking slut." I reply, "Oh shit....yes....fuck me....I'm your whore." The whole car rocks as you ravage me. There is years of pent up frustration in what you're doing to me. "I'm going to cum.....soon." I seize the day. "Cum inside me. Shoot it up my cunt." It's all you need. I feel you stiffen, thrust inside me as deeply as you can and hen.....jerk....jerk....jerk.....jerk.....I feel each and every pulse as you fill my cunt with your cum. I cum for a second time, my contractions milking your cock. Time seems to jump again. You're back in the driver's seat and we are sharing a cigarette. You're talking. "I don't know when it stopped, the sex, I mean. We just seemed to be too busy,too tired. We used to do everything a man and woman can do. Oral, conventional sex, even anal. But not for years now. Certainly not since the children. I miss it....a lot." As well as the words, I hear in your voice a deep, deep love for your wife. "Do you still love her?" Your response is immediate. "Oh yes. So very much, and she loves me too. It's just....." Your voice trails off, but I know what you want to say. A moment's silence before I speak. "You know, she will be feeling your frustration which will make her worried, guilty, uncertain of how to break it. Maybe after....this.....you will both find a way to re-learn your desire for each other." I notice your eyes are moist, almost full of tears. You cough. "Well, I'd better get you home." But I stop you. "No. I want you again. Just once more." I have noticed that you are still rock hard. When you go to climb on top of me again, I stop you. "No. Not like that. Like this." I roll over onto my tummy. You're between my legs again and inside me. I love being fucked from behind so I don't object. Anyway, I need you to be as slippery as possible. I let you have half a dozen thrusts inside me before I reach around and take your cock, guiding it to my bum. The thought of how....IF....I can take such a big cock up my arse hasn't even occurred to me. You push slowly, just the right amount of pressure, and I will myself to open for you. Yes, it stings, but it's a nice feeling and as you slip inside me I feel that familiar full feeling. And, of course, it's anal. "Sex of the Devil," as Sister Assumpta used to say. I have one last gift for you as you begin, with utter tenderness, to make love to my bum. You're not fucking it, you're making love, reliving a memory from long ago, and I know in an instant that you're not thinking of me. And it doesn't matter. I want to complete the illusion. I roll my head to one side. "Call me her name." You kiss my neck. "Oh Heather. I love you so much." Your movements, your gentle kissing. For the first time in my life, I'm not being fucked, I'm being made love to. The difference is amazing, and even though you're thinking of your wife, I know, truly know, the difference between a fuck and making love. I don't feel I want to slip a hand under myself and rub my clit as I would normally do when being bum fucked. No, this is different. This is for you. I reply to you, "Oh Mark....love me.....take me...." It doesn't take you, it doesn't take US long. I feel you cum in my bum and despite myself, I cum with you. We drive home in silence, but it's not an awkward one. Something special has happened in this car. We both got something we needed, and we both know, wordlessly know, it will be the only time. You drop me at my gate and I turn to you. "Now go and love her." You smile and nod. Only as you drive away do I notice I'm not wearing panties. They are crumpled up in the footwell of your car. I hope you find them before Heather does.
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