Repost, because tags.
Her hand was in my lap, stroking me through my slacks. One of my hands held the wheel steady while the other had a firm grip on the inside of her thigh. My mind was split between what her hand and mine were doing and driving as carefully as possible.
Emily and I were on the way home from a date. I had on the only suit I owned. Something I’d purchased years ago for a wedding or a funeral. I couldn’t even remember anymore. It was charcoal gray, slacks and a blazer. My shirt was a button down, navy blue and open at the collar just below my beard.
She was much more put together. She wore a short, sleeveless, black dress. Tight, it hugged the curves of her body. High-necked, just a hint of cleavage peeked out where the black of her dress ended and her soft pale skin began. Beneath her dress, her legs were wrapped in black stockings, stripes running up the thigh. Black Doc Martens and her purple hair were the final punk rock touches to the outfit. Her makeup, as always, was dramatic and bold, eyeliner and dark red lipstick.
I’d picked her up earlier, my eyes roaming, lingering on her figure. She’d caught me looking and couldn’t hide her grin, white teeth behind almost burgundy lips. We’d gone to eat at a modern fusion restaurant that made me nervous. I tend to get anxious on dates, and reading down a menu with only a vague understanding of what food was on offer, I’d made a selection at random that turned out to be chicken breast in a sweet sauce. We’d flirted shamelessly throughout the meal, making each other giggle and blush, in turn. In the parking lot, I’d kissed her, squeezing her body between mine and my car, she’d moaned into my mouth. I’d gotten lost in that, my hands on her waist, a hard kiss turning to licks and bites, oblivious to the passers-by. When we’d finally broken apart, she’d gasped, “take me to your house. Right fucking now.” I’d grinned, though she wasn’t smiling. She’d just stared at me, intense, demanding until I’d opened her door.
Now I was trying not to crash, driving as safely as I could with her hand on my cock, mine sliding further up her thigh. I pressed my fingers between her legs and she opened her thighs further for me. Pressing down firmly, through her tights and her panties, she gasped and let out a small whimper.
“Fuck,” she said, her voice tremulous and pleading.
“Fuck!” I answered as she tightened her grip on me through my pants, slowly, but deeply stroking me.
“Drive safely,” she giggled as I corrected a slight drift towards the shoulder of the road.
“Easy for you to say!”
She said nothing more, just wiggled her hips against my hand and continued her stroking.
I didn’t live far from the restaurant, but it felt like it took hours. Hours of teasing. Of moaning. Of her gasps. My growls. Exploring each other. Teasing. Promising.
As soon as I pulled into the driveway and stopped, her mouth was on mine. Open. Our tongues feeling each other as our hands had just been.
“Inside,” I gasped, our foreheads pressed together, “I fucking need you now.”
“Now,” she agreed, panting, emphatic.
Part 2: [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/wpbqdr/mflate_20s_the_date_a_car_ride_gets_intense/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/wpboo6/mflate_20s_the_date_a_car_ride_gets_intense