I had an adventure on Saturday. I had offered to drive a friend to Brussels to catch the Eurostar to UK, as train service from here where we live is disrupted halfway due to floods. It would have meant some buses and diverted local trains and would have taken 6 or 7 hours for a two hour journey.
One of her friends offered to come along to keep me company, and to see a bit of Brussels.
It rained a little on the way, and I discovered/re-remembered that while motorway service stations have toilets, these are quite far apart. There are picnic/rest stops along the way that are more frequent, but they have NO TOILETS.
As we approached a picnic area, friend’s friend (FF) asked if we could make a pit stop. The sign indicated picnic tables, no toilets, so I asked her if she could wait. She couldn’t. We stopped, and off she ran to find the nonexistent toilet. When she saw people coming back from behind bushes, she nearly turned back, but needs must, so she too went behind a bush.
In her rush, she did not take anything. I always have tissues and wet wipes in the car, so I got them and went to give them to her. There she was, her jeans down to her knees, her thong pulled to one side, as I approached from the back. I called out that I was bringing her supplies. She was startled, but not enough to stop, and I had a lovely view of a backside as nice as any I have seen.
After she finished and cleaned up, she pulled her clothes together. That’s when I told her, “What a lovely view.” She blushed like mad.
We made it to the station in good time, saw my friend off, then I offered FF to go into a nearby shopping area to eat. Parked the car and walked down the streets, just browsing and talking. Stopped for lunch, then walked some more until she saw a clothes shop with a lovely window. She asked if I wouldn’t mind if she went in. I went with her, and she picked out a very nice mid-thigh skirt and a white blouse. She bought it, and I asked her to leave them on. She asked me why, and I said, with a wink, “First, they look good on you, second, easier to hike up a skirt than to pull down jeans when you have to squat to pee.”
She blushed again but kept them on. We started to head back, and carried on talking. As we neared a service station, I asked if she wanted a pit stop and she said no. A few km down the road, she started to fidget a bit and said she needed to go.
I pulled into the next picnic area, and told her to run, and I would bring her the supplies. When I got there, she had finished, and was still squatting, her back to me. She had dropped the back of her skirt to cover her bum. I gave her the paper, and as she cleaned up, I said, “What a pity, the view at this stop is not as pretty.” She turned her head, looked at me, blushed, and turned her head forward again. I chanced it, telling her, “Show me.” She looked at me again, blushed redder, and slowly raised the back of her skirt to uncover herself.
I waited a good few seconds, maybe even half a minute, then said, “Thank you. Very nice. Shall we go?” I helped her up, and we returned to the car hand in hand.
In the car, as we drove, I asked her how she felt about my asking her to expose herself to me. She said, “It felt ever so naughty, showing myself in public, and you were so naughty making me be naughty.” I told her I made her do nothing, it was a polite request, and she replied, “Yes, but the way you said it, I felt I HAD to do it.”
I asked her if obeying me did anything to her. She hid her face in her hands. A quick look showed me she was very red again, perhaps more than before. I said, “Tell me.” She hemmed and hawed then said, whispered actually, “It made me wet, down there.” I told her to show me.
She didn’t understand how, so I told her to take off her panties, and show me how wet they were. She turned her head away, looking out the window, and said nothing for a while. Then, slowly, she lifted up, reached under her skirt, and pulled her thong down. I told her, “Good girl. Now hold them wet side out, and hold them up so I can see.” They were almost sopping. I told her, “There is a travel rug in the back. Put that under you and raise your skirt right up. You don’t want to stain your new clothes.”
She turned to get the blanket, so I reached over and caressed her thigh. She stayed in that position until I let go, then put her skirt up and the rug under her.
The weather had been deteriorating for a while, and the heavens opened up (no, not her legs, not yet anyway 😘). Driving became very difficult with poor visibility, and I had to focus on that. She was starting to get nervous, so to distract her, I told her to play with herself while I drove. I knew this was very forward with someone I met a few hours ago, but the way she responded to my requests made me think she was willing to be led. So lead I did.
She hesitated, so I told her again to do it. I couldn’t see, but I felt her take a deep breath, and then her breathing got heavier.
She was getting close, I could tell from her breathing and whimpers, so I told her to let go and be free with herself. A few moments more, and she came.
I told her to continue. I knew there was a service area approaching, and I was heading for there to ride the storm out. She kept playing until we reached the service area and parked.
Soon as we parked, she stopped. I asked her why. She said, “Out there, it was you and me, making me do things, but here, there are people.”
I told her, “Look around, the rain is in torrents, the windows are already steamed up, and every one is like us, waiting in their cars. Who can see you? Besides, it turned you on something fierce to show yourself in public to me. Now continue, but turn towards me, I want to see what you have been playing with.”
She turned her back to the door, I made her put a leg on the floor, the other on the seat, and open herself to me. I saw the rug then. It was as if the rain had got onto it.
The storm lasted a good 20 minutes. We had to wait for another five or so to defog the windows, so much had we steamed them up. I made her give me a taste of herself from her fingers. She did, but made a “yuck” face, so I asked her if she had never tasted herself. This is a thirty something woman and she said no. I asked her if she never kissed her boyfriends after they went down on her, and she said no one had ever done that to her.
I got her to taste herself, alternating with giving me tastes. Her initial dislike became acceptance, but I think the “dirtyness” of it kept her from enjoying it. However, because I was “making her” do it, she was getting aroused yet again (if she ever came down), judging by the quantity she was producing, and her fingers inside were staying in longer and longer to return with her offering.
After her next orgasm, we defogged the windows, and set off for home.
We exchanged phone numbers, and she promised to wash my rug and return it. I told her she was welcome to come over, but if she wanted to keep the rug unwashed as a souvenir of her first experience, she was welcome.
I got a thank you message the next day. I’m not sure if it was for the ride or the orgasms or the rug. I don’t think anything will come of it, ships that pass in the night and all that.
What a beautiful and hot story. I hope you get to instruct her again soon 😈