PARKING LOT RAGE QUIT MASTURBATION [F]

PARKING LOT RAGE QUIT MASTURBATION

Elizabeth hurried into her car, slammed the driver’s door closed, and immediately gripped the steering wheel with a towel-wringing strength, twisting and pulling the faux-leather wrap.

Or, as she imagined them: strangling the last two awful hours at work.

She relaxed her grip, taking several shallow breaths to regain her composure, and pressed her head back into the headrest.

She glanced at the rear view mirror, saw the blue and green neon lights of the Day N’ Nite Grocery sign behind her in the parking lot.

“Fuuuuuck that place,” she muttered, tensing back up and stomping her feet, hands back on the steering wheel in a violent grip.

It was five o’clock. Shoppers pushed shopping carts in and out, a perpetual motion machine, and the parking lot was a constant come-and-go.

She had parked at the far end of the lot in the spots facing the road that employees were allowed to park in. A little less come-and-go here. A stray shopping cart was beside her, driver’s side. She had given it a kick before unlocking her car. On the passenger side was Max’s car, a banged up red Camry that made her boxy Volvo look like a Cadillac. A handful of other cars were parked along this strip, but she only knew of a few co-workers that drove to work.

She reached over the center console and rolled down the passenger window halfway, then did the same on the driver’s side. It wasn’t necessarily hot today, but the humidity was making her already pounding head worse, like the air itself had her skull in a tight grip.

Even her clothes felt oppressive. Everything was tight, and she was sweating. Everything today was wrong. It was all shit.

She unbuttoned her blue work shirt, fought it off her shoulders and down her arms, crumpled it in a ball and pushed it out the gap in her window. “Fuck you bullshit place!” she screamed.

And the goddamn Khaki’s had to go, too. She couldn’t believe she ever worked in a place with such a bland uniform. She kicked off her shoes, pushed the pants down her legs and shoved them out the window as well.

This was it, she truly was never coming back to work here. Good riddance.

She was still brimming with anger. She was liable to go into road rage mode before she even left the parking lot. At least now, sitting in only her bra and panties, she felt a little less oppressed by the air.

That was a start. She needed to calm down. Take a breath.

She put her head back again, inhaled deeply, and reclined the seat just slightly. Dropping her hands to her lap, she exhaled a slow breath. She closed her eyes and, taking measured breaths, tried to clear her mind.

The hum of the traffic ahead of her on the other side of the median blended with the faint metal rattle of shopping carts behind her. It may have been the world’s worst white noise machine sound, but she felt herself loosening up.

She was aware of her right hand laying across her pubic mound, could feel the slight pressure under her fingers. She cupped herself gently, then traced her lips through her panties with her middle finger, petting her clit with her thumb in downward strokes.

Yes, she thought, this is what she needed to get the day back on track, and especially what she needed right now to quench the rage in her before she started driving.

She extended her left leg out against the tire well and brought her right leg up, leaning it against the console, her bare foot on the seat, the white noise becoming fainter as the dull thump of her heart soothed her head.

Her fingers were inside her panties now, four fingers flat against her pussy, moving her wetness in circles, and every pass across her clit made her whole body twinge.

She slid her middle finger inside of herself, brought it up around the side of her clit, used the pad of her fingertip to tap it like she were a nurse trying to find a vein.

She sighed, arched her back, pushed her shoulders into the seat, bra strap hanging down her bicep. She found a steady rhythm, cupped her left breast, slipped her hand under to touch her nipple. A breeze crossed over her chest, and she welcomed it.

She felt the familiar rollercoaster sensation, sensed the pulse in her thighs, relaxed and tensed and relaxed and tensed into the warmth that was radiating from her sex up through her body.

She brought her leg up, her foot giving the horn an accidental tap, and slumped back further into the seat, rubbing herself faster, breathing heavier, feeling weightless yet heavy, and when she felt the orgasm wrap itself around her, she gave into it completely, a wordless intonation sustaining, cutting through her heartbeat and the white noise, splintering all the distinct sounds into 3D stereo panning: she heard herself centered, her heartbeat to the left, the traffic suspended somewhere above, and the shopping carts and car doors ping-ponging from one side to the other. Every sensation split through a prism, became crisp.

She relaxed her head, letting it lull to the right, blinking her glistening eyes, and with a contented smile, focused her gaze and found herself looking directly at Max.

He was standing between cars, bent slightly at her window, an expression of being caught red handed.

“I, uh, heard you tap the horn when I was walking to my car. I thought you were trying to get my, uh, attention.”

Elizabeth sat there, comfortable, all the rage gone. She looked at Max, didn’t change her expression, didn’t move her body to hide in shame. Her right leg was still extended, foot on the dash, hand still in her panties. The left cup of her bra had fallen, her nipple a soft bright pink in the late afternoon sun.

She felt for the door unlock button and all four pins popped up. She gave a little movement with her head that said, get in.

Max hesitated, then slowly opened the door, gave her a look as if to say, are you sure, then sat in the passenger seat.

“Hi Max. I could explain, but I don’t want to. You should know, I won’t be working at the grocery store with you anymore. I quit.”

Max, looking straight ahead, his hands on his knees, said, “Oh, uh…” and let the words trail off. He was blushing.

“So,” Elizabeth continued, “I want to tell you, you were one of the few co-workers that didn’t get on my nerves. I’ll miss working with you, but I won’t miss that horrible job.”

He glanced at her as she pulled her leg down, pushed herself back into the seat. She adjusted her panties, raised the seat back, put her bra back in place, and pushed each foot into her Converse sneakers.

She saw the bulge in his pants.

“And, by the way, I wasn’t trying to get your attention with the horn. I didn’t know you were there. But in the end, this is a fine goodbye, you think?”

“I… uh, oh man.” He laughed nervously.

She reached over, wrapped her hand around his Khaki covered shaft.

“You’re going to have to take care of this yourself, though.” She gave him a little rub, then sat back into the driver’s seat, turning over the ignition.

“Bye, Max,” she said.

He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but could only work the words “Goodbye, Elizabeth” out from his still awestruck face. He opened the door and stepped out, turning immediately to open his own car door.

She put the Volvo in reverse and slowly backed out. Her work uniform, never to be worn again, sat crumpled next to the car. She noticed the shopping cart was no longer on her driver’s side. Someone must have collected it while she was having at herself. Whomever it was most definitely caught part of her show.

She didn’t care. She felt better. She felt good. On the way home, she pulled into a drive thru, ordered a milkshake. She smiled at the cashier who leaned over to hand her the cup through her window.

She parked at her apartment complex, walked confidently in her state of undress across the lot and up the stairs to her door, sucking on the straw, feeling the cool shake go down her throat and tingle her chest.

As she stepped inside, she wondered if Max had done himself right there in his car. Wherever he got off, she knew he would be thinking of her. What a strange day, she thought.

THE END

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/q91dch/parking_lot_rage_quit_masturbation_f