Carol and I had been dating for a few months, and we’d never really had a fight. It was all just so easy: we hung out, did stuff with our mutual friend group, and we fooled around at every opportunity. And by fooled around I meant that I was learning every possible way to make her cum using my mouth and my fingers, and she was doing the same for me. We definitely weren’t fighting over sex–she wanted to wait for actual penetration, and I was fine with that. As in, really fine–we had a great thing together, and I made sure she knew it.
So when we finally did have a fight, it was over something totally stupid. It’s only noteworthy because of how she managed to win that fight without me even realizing it, at the time.
We’d been out at a bonfire, pretty far out of town. The drive back was along dark winding country roads, and every time we encountered an oncoming car the glare from the lights lit up the haze and dirt on the inside of my windshield–it was long overdue to be washed. I didn’t give it any thought, but it bugged Carol.
“Your windshield is filthy!” she chided me.
“Yeah, no big deal,” I said casually.
“It *is* a big deal–you can’t see well when cars approach, and I bet when the sun is low you can’t see at all!” She was worked up over it, and although I should have seen it as touching that she cared about me, I probably heard it as her nagging me about something that really wasn’t her concern.
So as those discussions go, it escalated until we were both really angry. About a dirty windshield. How stupid.
The last few minutes of the drive home were spent in tense silence. This was totally new territory for us and while I wanted to break it, I wasn’t sure how. Everything I said seemed to annoy her, and her comments did the same to me.
When we pulled into her driveway I expected her to pretty much jump out right away and probably slam my door with all her might for good measure. So I was surprised when instead she turned to me and I saw that her expression was no longer angry, at all. It caught me totally off guard.
“I’m really sorry for getting so angry over that,” she started, and sighed. “It’s your car and your windshield, and even though I lo…like you a lot it’s not my place to tell you what to do.”
I was definitely off-balance. She’d always been charmingly strong-willed and I had not expected her to back down, honestly. But I was happy to have the fight behind us. The fact that she stopped herself from dropping the L-bomb in the middle of her sentence was not lost on me, so my head was spinning a bit. I wasn’t sure whether I was more afraid that she almost said The Word, or more afraid that I’d mis-heard and maybe she *wasn’t* going to say it?
I sputtered “Look, no, I helped escalate it, and I’m sorry. You were just looking out for me, and I appreciate it.”
We hugged, and it all seemed good, but then she sort of backed to the far edge of her seat and turned towards me. I was confused for a second, and with a sly grin she said “So by way of apology, I have something–some things–for you. But, I’m going to need your cooperation.”
This was a no-brainer, of course. “Whatever you need, babe.”
“Okay, first, I need you to slowly back the car away from the house, until I tell you to stop.” I was a little baffled by this, but complied. They had a fairly long driveway, and I’d stopped on the parking pad in front of the house. There was a light on the detached garage that lit that area fairly well, and I backed slowly down the drive until she said to stop, which put us quite a distance away from the house and more or less screened from the view of the house’s windows by a row of hedges. I liked what that suggested, of course, so after stopping the car I simply waited for further instructions.
She reached up and adjusted the rear view mirror to its extreme range, tilting it in a way that at first I didn’t understand–then it hit me that she was reflecting the light from the garage so that it lit up her body, which was still pressed against the passenger side door. And I realized she was not trying to keep her distance, more like she was trying to sit at an angle so that I could see her better. This was getting interesting.
“Okay,” she said, “we’ve done a lot of things since we started dating, and I really appreciate that you’re always sensitive to my boundaries–such as they are–and I have something in mind that we haven’t done, exactly.”
With that she started lifting the hem of her sundress slowly, as she continued speaking. “You’ve gotten me off in so many ways, and you’re great at it. But you may not know that I also get myself off, sometimes. Not as often since we’ve been dating, since I like saving it for you, but still–I do it.” She paused, no doubt to see my reaction, and it occurred to me that she’d carefully adjusted the mirror such that the light ended just below her eyes so that she was not blinded by it. The car had to be parked in just the right spot for this–she had *really* thought this out! I was impressed, and very intrigued by where this was headed.
By now her sundress was to the top of her thighs, and it continued to creep slowly, tantalizingly upwards as she spoke. “So now, if you’re okay with it, I want to do that…and I want you to watch.” And she let out a little half-giggle/half-sigh, and that alone pushed me from “interested” to “aroused.”
The look on my face was clearly enough answer for her. By now her long smooth legs were mostly exposed, and I was genuinely happy to simply admire her. Her legs had the athletic tone that a combination of youth and activity produce, and while the rest of her was covered-for the moment-by her thin cotton sundress I could clearly see the shape of her flat abs and her firm, perfect breasts. Her nipples were clearly hard, and showing through the cups of the built-in shelf bra. I was drinking in the sight of her.
She went on, “I don’t want you to help me–not this time, not right now–so I need you to just sit there and literally watch me.” I got the impression that she was thinking of some of these conditions on the spot, but so far I had zero complaints. This was hot as hell, and getting better as it went.
By now her sundress was moving past her hips and her beautiful pussy was creeping into view–I had suspected she was not wearing panties from the way the dress hugged her sweet ass that day and it appeared I was right–and when she lifted her left leg up onto the seat so that she was totally exposed to me, there was no question. My eyes were locked on her amazing mound with its wispy curls of red hair and the fascinating shape of her outer labial folds barely showing through.
The sundress moved a little faster now, exposing her abs, and she shifted a bit and the next thing I knew she’d pulled the dress off entirely, and was boldly nude with her legs spread for my enjoyment and a naughty-girl-next-door look on her face.
Now looking me right in the eye, she slowly ran her hands over her flat stomach, working her way down to her pussy. She toyed with her pubic hair, and gently spread her labia apart and started touching herself in slow circles with her right hand. I was watching intently, noticing the way she slid her fingers gently up and down over her clit every time she passed it. Her left hand went to her mouth and came away soaked in saliva which she used to wet herself. Now her labia were expanding and open, and glistening in the light reflected in the mirror. God, this was so damn sexy.
She continued to transfer wetness from her mouth to her pussy, making it glisten more and more, and as her arousal grew her gaze lost it’s focus and became distant–I could tell she was getting lost in what she was doing. I didn’t move, and did my best to keep my breath silent because I didn’t want this to end. I could have watched this for hours: the look on her face, the act of her wetting her fingers–and no doubt tasting herself in the process–and passing that to her pussy, all while basically spread-eagled just inches from me with her perfect tits bouncing slightly as she started to quiver.
Within minutes she was moaning, and as her fingers slid over her wet pussy she started slipping two fingers into herself and thrusting in and out. By that point it was impossible for me not to squirm and move a little–my erection was absolutely aching, but trapped in my shorts and I was just about to move slowly to release it when her eyes focused on me and she sort of gasped out “Don’t you dare move–just watch me!” followed immediately by “Put both hands behind your head…grab the headrest…and don’t let…go…don’t…move…” Even I knew better than to point out that I couldn’t “not move” and simultaneously grab the headrest–so I did as I was told.
In return, I got to watch this beautiful, lithe young woman fuck herself with her fingers: she writhed as she plunged her fingers in and out of her body. I could see the wetness on her fingers as pushed them deep into her body and then slowly and steadily pulled them out again. I could literally smell her arousal, and very much enjoying the sight of the small dark circles of her nipples where they stood out from her breasts as they shook with her pleasure.
Very soon her moans increased, and her pace increased, and she arched her back and stifled her cries as she came, and came hard. Slowly she relaxed, inch at a time, until she was settled back down on the seat and as her breathing came back to normal she opened her eyes and looked at me.
“I really, really need to…” I began, and when she didn’t object I finished “…hold you right now.”
She laughed, and pretty much flung herself at me. I couldn’t believe that just 30 minutes before we’d been fighting to the point we couldn’t speak. What a change.
I held her for a few minutes, nuzzling her neck and thanking her, when I felt her hand slide down my stomach and past my waist. “Don’t thank me just yet–that was only the first half.”
With my help, my shorts were removed in no time, and she shifted so that she was kneeling on the passenger seat my seat back, and while her hands drifted over my stomach and my thighs, slowly moving closer to my erection, she said “You know I like you in my mouth, don’t you?”
“Mmmmm-hmmmm,” I managed.
“But if it’s okay, I want to do it a little differently this time,” she practically purred.
Although she said she didn’t want to use her mouth, she couldn’t have gotten much closer to me without her lips touching my cock, and I could literally feel her breath on the head of my erection. She wrapped one hand around me and started stroking, and the other hand went to her mouth. I heard a wet, slurping sound and then felt her saliva-coated fingers grip me gently. Apparently, wet-hand-to-genitals was the theme for the evening, and that was 100% fine with me.
Her touch was amazing, and with her hand’s repeated trip between her mouth and my cock, I was drenched in no time at all. As I got progressively wetter–and slicker–from her saliva she used a lighter grip and her strokes on my cock were now sliding over my skin. As her hand passed over my cockhead she tightened her grip just slightly and the increased friction was amazing: wet, warm, and slick…but with *so* much sensation I was starting to feel my orgasm build in no time.
In the heat of the moment, I couldn’t make sense of the fact that Carol had said she wanted to do something “a little different” this time, which by now was clear involved getting me off with her hand instead of her mouth, but the way she was leaning over with her face just above my cock as she stroked it had me confused–and so, so turned on. Was she going to take me in her mouth at the last minute? I knew she liked being above me when I came, to let my jizz run back out of her mouth. Or was she close because she wanted to see me explode, when the time came? That would mean I’d basically give her a facial, from beneath, and that thought literally sent my head spinning.
I couldn’t tell, and the anticipation was adding to the incredible sensation of her stroking me, and very soon my climax was rushing up on me. I almost couldn’t resist the idea of being as close to her face as possible when I came, and started raising my hips–slowly and carefully, since I didn’t want to catch her off guard if that wasn’t what she wanted. But she immediately caught on and said “God yes, baby–come up to me!” and as I raised up she slid one hand under my ass and gently pushed me higher, while also raising her head–it was like I could get so close to her but never quite reach her mouth. The anticipation was so powerful, and it put me right over the edge. I bucked, and moaned, and came just as she pulled her head aside, stroking me hard as I shot spurt after spurt of cum…**onto the windshield**.
She laughed, and stroked me through to the end, and even dropped her head down and took me in her mouth for the very finish. I have to say, I was pretty damn satisfied–it was different, and it was fun.
And I’d been played, because now I absolutely did need to clean the inside of my windshield. Like, before I could even drive home. Best fight I ever lost.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/11uark8/carol_plays_me_mf_part_2_masturbationwatching