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As told by Michelle…
“Michelle, wake up,” I hear you quietly say. Your hand feels good rubbing my ass. To get comfortable, I had slid the seat back, sleeping on my side without a seatbelt. I’m still merrily sedated from the finger-fucking you’ve given me but the massage is a welcome wake-up. The mutual exhibitionism has left us both feeling very trusting. I would be quite content to let you caress me more.
I roll over, happy to see you. It’s a little silly, since I was only asleep for about forty-five minutes, and you couldn’t have gone anywhere but it also just feels natural. I even had a little dream about you but I won’t mention that right now. I’d rather explore our fantasies than talk about them, for the moment.
“Where’s here?” I ask, dazed beyond remembering the itinerary.
A little surprised by reality, I sit up quickly and pull the seat back to an upright position as you get out of the car.
“Aren’t you coming?” you tease from a few yards away.
The Alamo is a really small building to be so important. It was just a small Spanish mission, and the shot holes from muskets are still on the walls. It was never meant to be a fortress. Still, the Texans defended it in their struggle to win freedom from Mexico before defeating Santa Anna four months later. Almost 200 men were defending the Alamo, and none survived the battle. Not that Texas History was ever my strongpoint in college, but you’ve told me about it before when we were planning this trip. I am a little impressed as I get out of the car and shut the door.
A soft breeze runs through my pubic hair, tickling my body, and I remember my lack of undergarments. The door, however, locks. Darn key remotes!
“Phillip? Could you open the trunk? I want to get something out of my bag.”
You keep walking towards the site, “Can it wait? We won’t be here long.”
“It’s a surprise for you.” I say, trying to seduce you into doing my bidding without sounding concerned.
“Hurry up Michelle, the tour’s about to start.” I can’t decide whether you’re just being stubborn, or even a tad insensitive. If I weren’t without my panties, though, I suppose I could be accused of over-sensitivity. I’m a big girl though, so instead of fussing more, I hustle up to you to whisper the truth. As if other people could tell my condition, I hustle while holding my legs close together. Was that a little smirk on your face?
“Welcome Everyone to San Antonio. My name is Mitch, and I’ll be giving your tour today, let’s start by going around the group telling everyone where you’re from.”
I rush to your side and act normal as I loop my arm through yours.
“Phillip,” I whisper, as quietly as possible, “could you please open the trunk real quick?”
“No,” you whisper back. “Hi, I’m from Kentucky.”
I stop thinking about the cool cross breeze evaporating the heat of my pussy and remember there’s a tour. “I’m from Upstate New York.”
“Phillip, ” back to whispering. “Please? I’m not wearing any panties.”
“I know, and no,” you whisper back, grinning mischievously.
I’m shocked and I think the little old Asian man behind us overheard me. The group starts moving around the historical building.
The walking, along with the realization that I’ll be commando for a while, starts to reheat my hips.
“You know?” I whisper again.
“Over one hundred men fought here, including former Tennessee Congressman Davy Crockett and…”
“Why do you think I locked the car doors?”
I reply to your witticism with a sharp, but hidden pinch to your arm.
“Ow,” you quietly whisper back, a little irritated even if you deserve it. “I’m really not into pinching Michelle. Besides, your dress is long enough that no one will know but us.”
It takes me a minute before I decide you’re right. All I can think of, despite the tragic and noble deaths of American heroes, is my exposed ass and front but no one seems to notice. Towards the end of the twenty-odd minute long tour, which of course ended in the gift shop, I actually get a boost of self-confidence from our little secret.
“Hey Phillip, how do you like me in this cowboy hat?” I ask, posing. I imagine posing for you with just the cowboy hat on, and the pressure in your jeans is noticeable. In fact, it’s just the response I was looking for.
“What about these bandolier rounds?” you ask, wrapping two cheesy belts of fake bullets across your chest while wielding plastic tin guns in Mexican outlaw fashion.
“I like them,” I flirt, sidling towards you. I lean up to your ear and whisper, “you know, I’m not wearing any panties.” I ease the bandolier loops off you, and saunter ostentatiously to the counter, picking up a gaudy sombrero on the way.
“Weel this be all, miss?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Michelle, I can get that.”
“No, it’s okay, it’ll be my treat for you doing this for me.” I can tell I have you a little confused again.
On our way back to the car, you get the door for me and I sit down with an air of control. As escort numaraları eryaman we head out to lunch, I decide to remind you again.
“Phillip, I just want to let you know,” I say before leaning over to whisper in your ear with every bit of drama and seduction. “I’m not wearing any panties.”
My lips and tongue glance over your ear. The pressure building in your cock is a bit of a game to me right now, and I think I am earning a high score.
We spend most of lunch staring at each other at a nice but inexpensive cafe on the river walk. You stroke my calves for the duration with your toes. As we’re waiting for the bill, you extend your foot up to my thigh, and I can feel goose bumps start. When we get back to the car, you ask if I want to get anything out of the trunk.
“I’m fine.” I reply airily.
“As soon as we get to an area a little less populated, I’ll drive naked again as promised.” We can both smell the exotic tea brewing under my dress. It’s a shame we’ll both be brewing longer than we’d like.
“The road will be littered with highway patrol cars from here to San Antonio, you’re going to have to keep your seatbelt on,” you say as we settle into the car.
It sounds a little like a challenge to me. Whatever will we do?
“Okay,” I say demurely.
We get back out on the highway. You’re busy maneuvering the car as I fiddle with the radio until I find a good station. I start chatting away as if we are taking any old car trip.
“You’ll never guess who I ran into the other day in Austin…”
“Who?” you ask, looking confused. I had said before that I didn’t know anyone in Texas.
“Susan Wittig Albert. She writes this sweet little mystery series set in a fictional town called Pecan Springs, Texas. The main character is China Bayles, she owns an herb shop, of course they sell all sorts of other things, but she used to be a lawyer and her husband is a cop who retired early and teaches at a college now. She looks into things for people occasionally and he sort of backs her up from time to time, brings in the muscle.”
I glance over and see you are looking slightly stunned by the babble and have to suppress a grin. I stretch, “Wow, it’s turning into a hot day!” I reach down and slowly pull the hem of my skirt up until the fabric stretches across my upper thighs, just shy of my naked pussy. I glance over at you and can see that realization cross your mind.
“Have you ever seen Grey’s Anatomy? The television show?” I ask.
You shake your head, looking a little dazed. “I might have caught part of an episode or two. I’m usually busy studying.”
“There’s four really main characters that start out but there’s some others that are very central to the show. Izzy, George and Meredith share a house. Izzy is a gorgeous tall, willowy blond who worked her way through med school as a lingerie model. George is this incredibly sweet and funny guy who is totally in love with Meredith but she has this ability to go out, get drunk and fall into bed with totally inappropriate men. Within the first two shows, she is in bed with the neurosurgeon where she is an intern, we call him McDreamy. To be fair she didn’t know he worked at the hospital when she slept with him.” You’re looking more and more dazed as I take a breath and continue.
“Christina is the Asian babe who is part of this group of four and she is sleeping with a cardiothoracic surgeon. Anyway, currently, Izzy fell in love with a heart transplant surgeon and he has died. Meredith found out McDreamy was married though he’d left his wife because she cheated on him with his best friend so Meredith said buh-bye! Then she slept with George on the re-bound and now they are both getting over that, George with a gorgeous Latina orthopedic surgeon. By the way, the four are surgical interns. My two favorite characters are George and Bailey, Miranda Bailey, she’s a short black woman they call the floor Nazi, I think she’s chief resident or something. Oh and Christina’s surgeon, Burke, is recovering from a gun shot that may cause him to lose the use of his right hand.”
You are looking totally dazed now so I switch gears. My voice lowers so that you have to strain to hear me and I slow down.
“There is this constant sexual tension that hums and vibrates whenever McDreamy looks at Meredith. It reminds me of the time I when I was in high school and I locked gazes with this guy I liked. I felt like I’d touched an electric fence. Neither of us could look away. It was a palpable exchange. Every time we were alone together, it was like he was daring me to touch him. I wasn’t that brazen back then though. Now, if I wasn’t strapped in over here. I’d reach out and touch you…” I reach over and stroke a finger down your arm. “Somewhere other than your arm.”
You shudder a little as my fingernail slides down your arm. Emotions slide across your face, one after another; curiosity, lust, happiness, confusion, and a little frustration combined with a lot of comfort. I’m not sure your poor brain can handle sex and a conversation at the same time, but ankara bayan escort I know you like a challenge.
“You sure are shifting gears a lot. You know, it’s still Friday, we might be able to watch Grey’s Anatomy together if you’re not interested in… other things,” you say, conveying your suggestiveness by sliding your left hand down to unbutton your shorts. They’re unbuttoned smoothly with only your thumb, giving the palpable impression that they want to be undone and your fly is struggling to not unzip itself. But that’s silly, shorts don’t think.
You place a hand back on the wheel, and then use your right hand to reach out and hold mine. It feels warm and soothing against my cool upper thigh. You open my hand free of yours to place it flat on my left thigh. You push it down to my knee, then back to the raised hem of my dress, as if ironing my leg. Taking my hand back in yours, you look up from our hands at me with those smart blue eyes.
You stare at me for a second before stating bluntly, “I hope I give you that spark,”
I’m stunned and touched at the same time. You said that without a trace of seduction, almost politely, as if it were a request for permission rather than a bold-faced desire. Without giving me time to reflect, though, you switch conversation topics, talking quickly.
“So what is it about these characters that you like? I mean, why do you like George and Bailey so much even though it’s this McDreamy guy and Meredith who have the sexual tension? And what are the interesting shows? Maybe I can look them up. Oh, and I stopped at the restroom before we left, and neither of us is wearing underwear, just so you know,” you say, not skipping a beat for that last sentence.
You let go of my hand to reach back and pull your boxers out of your back pocket. My eyes follow them as they’re thrown to the backseat, and with every bit of grace, as if our conversation shouldn’t be interrupted for what you just did; you place your right hand back on my thigh, raising your middle finger a bit to stroke my leg inattentively.
You look from the road back to me with a sweet, kind face. The brief time between now and Austin won’t be so uncomfortable.
There is a shift in the atmosphere, a little less teasing and a little more honesty seems called for. I relax into the seat, holding your hand.
“Well, we’re on equal ground for a bit, huh?” I smile over at you. “What do I like about George and Bailey so much, even though McDreamy and Meredith are more the central focus of the show? I love George because he’s sweet, kind and funny. He’s handsome too. But, the sweet, kind and funny make him a lot more interesting than other characters. I guess that’s the point, he has character.
In the old days they used to refer to actors as leading men/women or character actors/actresses. The character actors were always more interesting to me. They give things color and life.”
“Bailey is a tough, strong, intelligent, (kind shines through at times) person. She’s just the type of person I admire and strive to be like, a little less on the tough side maybe. Whoever writes for her does a great job of putting things in an interesting way. She’s kind of the conscience of the show. I don’t think there is anyone else on the show with her integrity. But, she’s also human.
When her husband is on the way to the hospital because she is in labor, she shuts down. George has to help her. And he does. That is a part of the show with the guy who has the unexploded ammunition in his chest, it really was their best two shows. I think it is a pretty emotional show and that appeals to a lot of women.”
“So you’d rather watch the show than do… other things?” I look over and see disappointment warring with chivalry on your face. I raise your hand and brush my lips over your knuckles then turn it over to press a kiss into the palm of your hand.
“No, but let’s see what happens. Maybe we could do both. The show is only an hour long. I think that is a good amount of time help us get used to being very close to each other, maybe get a little more comfortable, focusing on something outside us. Maybe we’ll see the end of the show, maybe we won’t.”
I’m enjoying our relaxed chat but the feel of your fingers brushing my leg, as we hold hands is making me a little warmer. There is a bump in the road and I gasp lightly as it reverberates through me. I bite my lower lip a little. One corner of your mouth turns up as your guess at what just happened. You wonder… and edge the car over a little so the right tire catches the rumble strip along the edge of the road for a few seconds, making the whole car vibrate then pull back fully onto the road and glance over to see the pink suffusing my face. You untangle our hands to brush your fingertips up and down the top of my thigh then reach just a little further over so that your fingers are between my thighs. I pull my legs together, lightly trapping your hand.
“Watcha gonna do now?” I tease, grinning. Then I gasp once more as I feel your pinky teasing along my pussy elvankent escort lips. I wonder if we are sitting close enough together for me to reciprocate. I reach over and slide my fingers over the bulge in your shorts; it takes just a gentle push for your zipper to slide open. I push the flaps to either side; I don’t want the teeth of the zipper in the way. You glance down to see my hand working its way down to cup your balls for a moment and I feel you shudder.
God, I can’t wait to be in a bed with you, completely free to satisfy our every appetite. I lick my lips, kick off my sandals and spread my legs, bringing my right leg up to prop my foot on the dashboard. We share another smile as I lightly brush my fingertips along your erection, slowly teasing you.
You seem somewhat hypnotized by my smooth white hands against your rigid cock. You’ve been fingering my labia in tune.
My looped fingers stroke up and down your cock as it sits still for me. When I occasionally slide my hand down over your scrotum, initially you tense, but I’ve been so gentle and so slight in massaging them that it only makes you more comfortable. When I scoot over the seat and put my head on your shoulder, I enter a mind-emptying state of comfort. Your fingers feel warm and press hard against me, perpetually massaging my vulva.
This natural truth serum seems to be working all too well on you.
“I really want to lick your pussy. God, I want to suck your delicious pussy and make you cum. I want to do that all weekend.”
I act playfully shocked by the blunt passion in your statement. After all the tempting and teasing, I wasn’t expecting such a blunt and immediate response. “Is that all you want?” I inquire coyly.
“No, I want to fuck you in the shower too. I want you to suck my dick before I slide it in you. I want you ride me on the bed, your cunt squeezing my dick to make me cum.”
“The more you play with me, the more I want to take you savagely. I want to ram my dick inside you and hold you still while I fuck you with animalistic carnality and passion, moving our bodies around the bed, shifting positions. I want to raise your leg up pointing toward the ceiling so I can lick your ankle while I fuck you. Then I want to roll your body over to hump you like a dog, your body lifted so I can fondle your breasts and finger your clit while I thrust madly inside you.”
At first, my hand stills as you talk. I am lost in picturing the scene, the interior of the car disappears for me. My lips part a little. As your fingers gently slide into my pussy to masturbate me, my hand resumes the strokes up and down your dick, which is now lubed with precum. You continue.
“I want to lift your body up and fuck you against the wall. I want you gasping for air at the energy of our passion. I want our connected, entwining bodies to fall on the floor, pressing me deeper inside you. I want you greedy for my cock as we roll around fucking. I want my body chasing after your rocking, twitching orgasm. I’m on top of you, seizing as I shoot my cum a foot deep into your body, screaming and moaning as I transform my dick into a vibrator with the intense shaking. I want you to scream my name as you orgasm, your body pulling hard against my dick, squeezing the life out of it as we echo each other’s ‘Yes-oh-God-Yes’s. Then we collapse, exhausted, and I kiss your neck and shoulders as you kiss me and mine.”
I awaken to our energetic bodies, or unconscious hands enacting our mutual desire to please one another. I’m free to be active now about masturbating you and you reciprocate. You push your ring and middle fingers into my hot, wet pussy. As I squeeze against them in pleasure, your index finger begins feverishly clicking my button. I moan with enjoyment that we’re able to satisfy each other, if only incompletely, once again.
My hand wraps around your cock as I stroke you quickly. We’re trapped. I lean forward, wanting to suck your cock, wanting to taste it, but with your arm against me to keep your fingers in my cunt, I can’t lick your cock without breaking our electrified circuit. The story and the constant texture of your hand on me has me so close to orgasm. You sigh in my ear as my hot breath caresses your dick.
“Mmmichellllllllle!” I have you on the verge of orgasm. I squeeze as I can feel the internal pumping of your body.
“Ooooh,” I reply quietly, as your hand works my body with the same intensity. I’m close to orgasm, too. Seeing you orgasm would put me over the edge.
“Don’t stop, keep going, baby” you command, unable to control the pitch of your voice.
“Michelllle!” Semen fires out, hitting your nipple, although I wish it had hit mine. Another shot fires onto your bellybutton, then another, which falls back to cover my hand. Your cock keeps ejaculating as my precise stroking turns to shaking as I get closer to orgasm. It’s my turn to whine and scream.
“Mmm… Ooooohh.” I release your softening but still erect cock as the pulses quiet. My cum soaked hand presses against your abs and thighs, smearing your cum against you before I wipe my hand against my own thigh and lick my fingers. Your cum tastes so good, but your fingers have all my attention. Your orgasm hasn’t stopped them one bit and you’re intent on them mimicking our future sexual trysts as accurately as possible.
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