A short road story

This story is also true. At least, the part I'm posting today is. If I decide to continue it, later parts may be embellished.

So one of my favorite things is doing naughty things, not in public exactly, but in places where I could easily get caught. And it didn't take me long to realize that one of my favorite places was in car. You're exposed, but not really. You're safe. When you're moving, sometimes you make eye contact with other drives and they thought of what they would do if they knew ...

So it's been a habit of mine, whenever I'm talking a solo road trip, to wear a sundress or a short skirt so that I could just sort of idly play with myself while driving. I think this really started when I was dating a guy who lived five hours away from me up the I-5 in California. The goal wasn't to get myself off, but it kept me awake, and kept me charged up with sexual energy for when I finally got to my BF's place.

But the truth is, really, just what I'd do is drop one hand to my lap, flip up my skirt, pull my panties to the side and idly play with myself and sort of zone out while driving. A pleasant enough way to pass the time. And the car I was driving back then was crossover - that is to say, bigger than most cars, so even if somebody was next to me, they couldn't really see what I was doing.

Unless, say, they happened to be driving in a really big car. Like a military HUMVEE.

I don't know how long that car had been next to me. I was in the slow lane, cruising along at a few miles over the speed limit, in a trace. Just listening to music, lightly playing with myself, focused on the road.

And then at some point I realized that the car next to me had matched my speed, and it had been there for a while. And it was a big car. A Humvee.

The hand in my lap froze.

I didn't look up right away. It took me a moment to settle the adrenaline, which pounded through my body and my pussy. I was both turned on and terrified, although I couldn't have told you of what.

After what felt like an eternity but couldn't have been more than a few seconds I glanced up.

I don't know what I expected, but what I saw was one of the most beautiful black men I've ever seen, in army fatigues, riding shotgun in the humvee. I mean, this guy was just stunning, with piercing eyes that ran right through me, and made my pussy throb again.

His eyes glanced down at my lap. From his perspective, he could see everything going on in my car. My pussy was mostly covered by my skirt. I mean, it was obvious where my hand was, but he couldn't really see anything. And so I made a decision.

Keeping my eyes locked on him, I flipped up my skirt, pulled my panties to one side, and shoved two fingers in my pussy.

His broad smile and rapt attention almost made me come right then and there.

We stayed like that for a a little while - I couldn't really tell you how long - him watching me, while I slowly fucked myself with my fingers. It was probably at least 30 seconds, and maybe longer, maybe two minutes. And I would have kept going -

- but a car behind him honked. He was part of a caravan on humvees, and they were blocking the fast lane because he was going the same speed as me.

He turned away and said something to his driver, who I couldn't see, and his car began to speed up. I blew him a kiss, and his humvee slowly pulled ahead of me, with him watching me over his shoulder until our views were blocked.

And that might have been the end of it.

Except that a couple of hours later, I pulled over into a rest stop. I just wanted a break from the road. This rest stop had a patch of grass, and I found a spot under a tree, pulled out a magazine, and just started reading. But damn if, 20 minutes later, I didn't feel somebody's eyes on me. I glanced up, and there he was.

I don't know how I'd gotten ahead of them, but there was the convoy of humvees. And there was him, standing about 15 feet away.

"Hello, miss."
"I thought I recognized your car."
"Looks like you did."

There was an awkward moment of silence. Finally,

"Thank you, by the way. That was lovely."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I did, too."

I glanced down. I could tell he had a substantial hard-on underneath his desert-camo pants. But neither of us said anything for a long moment, until somebody yelled from over by the Humvees:

"Hey, Bobby, we're late. Let's get a move on."
I smiled shyly. God damn, something about hot, shy guys gets me every time.
"Guess that means I've gotta go."
"Bobby, that's your name?"
"Corporal Robert M. Green, miss."
"Well, Corporal Robert M. Green, I'm Aeryn. Where you heading?"
He told me the name of the place he was going, then the name of the base where he was stationed. I nodded.
"Well, I don't want to get you in trouble. Have a nice trip."
"Thank you, miss, but I already have."

And he turned and walked back to his humvee, looking over his shoulder twice ...

And got into his humvee, and drove off.
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I honestly thought about him on and off for a few days, but, obviously, nothing had happened, so it was just fantasy material. I kept thinking about that bulge in his pants. I thought about the idea of anonymous sex with him by the side of the road, I masturbated more than once imagining that he has just walked over and pulled his cock out, right there at the rest area, and I had sucked it.

But it wasn't until a week or so later when I was at my mom's house and I stumbled across an old polaroid camera of hers that I got an idea.

I knew his name. I knew his base.

I put on the same short dress I'd been wearing in the car, no panties, and hiked the dress up just enough so that you could see the slightest bit of my pussy below the hem.

I put the polaroid in an envelope, put his name and base on it for the address, and mailed it. No return address. Nothing. Not yet. But I had plans ...
There was something nerve wracking about sending the photo. I had no idea if he was going to receive it. What would he think? He would know who it was from, I was sure of that, but beyond that, I didn't know. I tried to imagine how he'd look, receiving it, a little uncertainty, maybe curiosity, maybe checking the post-mark to see if he recognized it.

And then him opening the envelope. Seeing the picture. Smiling ...

He'd recognize the city, of course. Only a couple of hours from his base. But he had no way to reach me. I, though, had a way to reach him.

About a week later I sent a second picture. Again, a close-up. This one from behind, the same short dress, me slightly bent over the hood of a car. (My fantasies about him all seemed to revolve around me being bent over a car.) A week later a third picture, a closeup of a smile, painted lips, a finger playfully against them.

And on this one, I scrawled an email address on the back. A gmail address that I created, for no other purpose than this. It had no other history, no other connections to my other accounts.

Now the ball was in his court.
I was incredibly nervous for the next few days. Well, nervous might be the wrong word. Nervous, and turned on like hell. Would he respond? Had he even gotten the photos? If he did respond, what would he say? What should I do next?

I found myself logging into that gmail account obsessively. Nothing ... nothing ... nothing ...

And then one day, a response.

"Thank you for the pictures. I've been dreaming about the taste of you since I saw you in your car."

Well those two short sentences got me a couple of orgasms each. I sat on it for a couple days. Just how far was I willing to take this?

I really didn't know, and I hadn't planned this far ahead. What do I do? Do I play it coy? Do I send another picture?

It took me a couple of days to decide on my response.

"Do you know any good dive bars?"

He responded with a name. Near his base. Off a desert highway. Perfect.

"Saturday night, 11?" I offered.

"See you then."
The bar was perfect. Not far from a motel. A simple two-room building - a couple of apartments upstairs, I guess. A parking lot that extended behind the building. No immediate neighbors. I was fifteen minutes early.

I sat in my car, taking it in, wearing the same short sundress I'd worn before. Was I really going to do this? My pussy was throbbing with anticipation, but it was also terrifying. What if the magic I felt with him wasn't there? What if he didn't show?

I got so far as to put my hand on the ignition, ready to start my car and drive out of there. But I couldn't do it. I had to go in.

And, in a burst of inspiration before I got out of my car, I slipped my panties off and tucked them into my purse.

The bar was fairly crowded, mostly off-duty soldiers. I glanced around, didn't see the man I was looking for, and made my way to the bar. Ordered a bourbon and soda on the rocks, with a straw. And then I stood there, waiting.

And I guess every guy in the bar could pick up on the charge of sexual energy running through my body, because I couldn't go more than 45 seconds without a guy coming up to me. Well, okay, the truth was I was wearing heels and a short skirt and sort of leaning forward against the bar in a way that I know makes my legs look great, because when HE arrived I wanted to knock his socks off. But unfortunately that meant every other soldier in the place felt the need to give it a try.

"Can I buy you a drink?" I'd glance down at the drink I already had. A few other cheesy pickup lines. I was never rude, but I rarely went more than 45 seconds before somebody else would give me a try. I guess it's a compliment, although I would think that some of them would have figured out that when I've shot down the last 15 guys who walked up to me, their odds weren't good.

I glanced up at the clock. 11:04. Was he not going to make it? Was he going to flake on me?

I finished my whiskey. My nerves were building, beginning to get louder than the heat in my pussy ...

I motioned to the bartender for another -

"I've got this one."

I didn't have to turn around to know it was him. Even though I'd only heard him say a few sentences, I'd been dreaming about that voice. Thick, deep, precise ...

"I'd recognize that dress anywhere."
"I was starting to think you wouldn't show."

I turned around. He was taller than I'd remembered, but those eyes, those eyes, they pierced through me exactly as I remembered. I would go anywhere he asked me to go.

"There's a table in the corner. C'mon."

He took my hand and led me through the crowd.
He led me to a table in a back corner. A nice view of the place, and, I imagine, a nice view of us. I doubt he minded one bit that he was sitting with the girl who had just shot down a third of the bar.

But it was a bit of an awkward moment. When you've been crushing on someone and fantasizing about someone and sending pictures to someone, well - a long silent moment dragged on. His hand was lightly on my bare knee. Finally, I had to ask:

"So what happens now?"

"Well, darling," he said, "That's up to you."

"You know, I don't normally ..."

"Send dirty pictures to random men who caught you masturbating on the highway?"


"So what do you want to happen?"

I looked down, sure the whole room could be see flushing deeply red. He had slid a few inches higher on my leg, and my legs opened, fractionally, giving him more room. And I don't know where I found the courage to say -

"What do you want to happen?"

His hand slid up a little higher. Close enough that I was sure he could feel the heat coming off my naked pussy. But he was patient about it. A man. In no rush. That only made me want him more.

"Well, darling, I'm conflicted. On one hand - " his finger slid closer. As close as it could be without touching - "Part of me wants to take you out behind this little bar, bend you over that little car of yours, and on the other -"

His other hand came to my chin, and brought my eyes to his, "I've been thinking about that sweet little pussy of yours for a long, long time. And you know I want to fuck, but it seems like maybe it might be worth it to wait a little longer. Go, get a motel room, take our time. So I can taste you, and tease you ... before I fuck you. So tell me, which of those do you prefer?"

"Do I have to pick only one?"

He grinned broadly, and his finger slid up and begane to rub against my pussy.

"No, darling, I don't think you do. I don't think you do."
My breath caught as his finger rubbed against me. Rubbed might even be too strong a word - his finger was light as a feather, barely touching my most sensitive folds. My dampness was apparent to him, though, and he smiled -

"You've been looking forward to this as much as I have."

I could barely manage a nod, as his finger continued it's light, almost imperceptible stroking.

"Keep it together. We don't want the whole bar to know what's happening, here."

I just nAodded. My hands gripped the edge of the table. Finally I managed - "Jesus christ, if you don't ..."

"If I don't what?" He said as his finger continued its feather-light strokes.

But I couldn't respond. If I said anything, if I let any part of me allow any sound to escape, I would have moaned so loud the whole bar would have looked over. As it was ... I opened my eyes and looked around. A few of the men I had shot down earlier were at the bar, looking our way. They couldn't see below the table, from their angle, but they had to be able to tell what was going on. How could it not be obvious?

His finger pressed against my opening and in a moment it was inside me. I let out an intense gasp - as good as it was, as intense at it was, it was actually somehow less than it had been before, less than the teasing.

He smiled, with his finger inside me, and then pulled it out ...

And I've never felt so empty.

"You're ready," he said. "Come on."

And he stood up and walked towards the door, leaving me scampering to follow him ...
That's just great! Another distracted, clueless, zoned out, driver waiting for an innocent family to kill. We've done similar stuff but not playing with ourselves while driving. We flash, strip & play when someone else is driving. Like when Dad drove my sister to college she put a hip-hop station on the radio & told dad she was going to take a nap. She did nap, after she fondled her braless boobs & stroked her pantyless pussy to orgasm under her coat. Be careful out there.