A 40yo steps out for the first time (Pt 3)

(I look, and there it is. There you are. Oh that I wish I could send you these words. Your D was straight and larger than what I had seen, but not scary large either. I’d never seen a tip like that. How textured and ridged it all was. How much larger the head was, leaving a definite shelf to the shaft for lack of a better description. How dark.)

And it was wet. Obviously you were happy to see me, as the joke goes. Me, the librarian. The one with the huge untapped appetites. The quiet girl polishing her glasses in the corner proof reading your paper.

I am watching your profile as you drive. We are on the freeway now. Not exactly private. Still.

“Can I-?” I ask gingerly. You know. Touch it, I mean. It is tall and striking and commands attention.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. Not unkindly. I watch your face to make sure. You are, I think, sincere. You are patient. You are leaving this up to me.

I am right handed. Carefully, with awareness, I stretch my hand out. Closer, until I make contact. Oh, it is firm. It is tacky and slick at the same time. I know how this should feel. I am a married woman after all. I wrap my hand around it and tease the slime around the tip in swirls with my thumb. It glides effortlessly. I am not somewhat surprised to feel my own slick velvet inside respond and quicken as I do this. Exploring. My ache has begun.

You do not seem to notice. You are in traffic, after all. Where will you take us? I do not care. I giggle and unbutton the top three buttons of my shirt. I dress like all women do here, I am a country girl. Button up, jeans, boots. Only today I have on a red thong and matching bra. The best I own. I wore them for you to discover.

You glance over, notice my cleavage. I smirk and allow my primal instincts to awaken. This girl is not dead yet. This body has only been sleeping. With great deliberateness I lay back on the truck bench seat. Unbutton my pants. Pull one boot off, then the other. Make sure you are watching. You are. The setting sun makes the hair on your arms glow.

I pull off my pants. I am now in my red thong and button up plaid shirt before you. Where will you touch me first? We are in traffic on all sides. Humanity be damned.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/nkimqc/a_40yo_steps_out_for_the_first_time_pt_3