Steering Wheel

Written in 2013
Revised 2018

Her hands held tightly to her phone, as the text rang in. Her bubble had just popped. He didn't think he would be able to make time for her, and her hunger to see him was unbearable. He had been on her mind all week, and twice already she had to touched herself thinking of him. The crazy high he would bring her to, was extremely addicting. Her favorite memory she was pinned against the sink, her hair in his fist as he made he watch, as he fucked her from behind. The steam of the shower billowing over their silhouettes. Her thighs began to tremble.

Him: Just wait. . . I might be able to

Her: Ok, I'm thinking of you and my hands can't help but to roam.
I want you, I want to place you in my mouth, and then I want to slide you inside of me and ride you.

Him: Fuck

Her: How much longer, I don't know if I can wait with out touching myself. . .

Him: 10 minutes, I'm waiting on someone to switch me out.

Her: Ok, well. . . just to let you know my breasts feel amazing right now. ;)

 As the time passed she parked staring at the plain white-ish bricks lining the walls on the two story building in front of her. She could hear people farther away, as she reclined her car chair tucking her heels by her butt, her legs pressed on the steering wheel. Nickle back was playing lightly and her hands did in fact roam over her chest, she slipped her breasts out of her black strap T, the breeze wasn't much, but she licked her finger and circled the light pink of her nipple. It hardened and perked up, ready and at attention with the tender half winds dancing through the car. Her mind kept creeping back to the simple moments in the shower wet bodies tangled together. . .
The mirror fogged, forcing her to look up at herself, as he railed her from behind, the sink was cold on her hands, and her breathe only caused more blur to the mirror, she was on tipy toes, holding on strongly, as she could feel him thrust ever harder into her. The length of him, stretching her slowly out. The feel of him pinning her as she twists and moans over and over. The sounds of bodies clapping together, rang loud and unashamed.

Her sex now pulsing painfully. She slipped her fingers underneath her buttons, yanking down at her zipper. Her hands knew where to touch, but she let out a groan of frustration. This just wasn't enough. Pushing her fingers inside her she bite her lip, her windows down, she could hear a conversation between a group of young men outside. 'I need to be really quiet' she thought, biting her lip harder, fingers slipping out only to rub over the little bulb at the top of her pussy. In her mind it was him, but it only made the pain/pleasure more intense. Her fingers moving as quickly as she could get them to. Her breathe panting and she flicks and fingers herself. Once again he turning her into a shameless mess. She slouched lower in her seat so the talking strangers would not see her. The steeling wheel hit the back of her hand, making her fingers push farther and rougher inside. She squeaked in pleasure.

She pushed again against the steering wheel. Her hips spreading apart to lift higher, her hand crushed up against the steering wheel and her walls tighten around her fingertips. Stars in her eyes, the pain in the hand, only barely noticeable with the intense release of the pain of needing to be touched. Her nipples both proudly out, awaiting a mouth to warm them. She was on the brink, about to cum.
Her head falling back and closing her eyes, the men now passing in front of the car, but she can't stop... her hips and hands moving to the rhythm of that sweet release. Her panting slows, she wishes the would have spotted her, splayed out like a meal ready to be eaten. Her wicked thoughts led her over the edge. She bites down on her lip, letting the tingling engulf her, as she breathe mindfully. Deeply. Letting herself fully embrace the release. She pulled her dripping finger from herself. Placing it on the edge of her lower lip, letting her tongue tinge with the sweet bitterness, of her own mess. Wiping away the rest on her shorts, she wiggles in her seat, that warm wet feeling, pleasing in between her thighs. The back of her hand was red and a little tender from the force she applied with her hips pinning to the steering wheel. Pulling her seat back up with a contented sigh, she checks her phone.... In a MUCH better mood.

Him: I can't I'm sorry. I am so sorry

Her: It's ok, my hand just did all the work, I'll see you soon. You can make up for it.  ;)

She drove away, thinking of him, and how nice just the thought of him was while she touched herself, and use a steering wheel. 'What the hell, man talk about being a horn dog.' she giggled to herself. Turning up the volume on her car, as she pulled out of the parking lot.