About ten miles from the bridge, Jace turned to me and said "watch this." Well, I watched as much as I could without driving right off the edge of the road. First, she unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out of my pants (that's tl;dr version of a lot of butt-wrigling, groping, unfortunate encounters with zipper tabs, and general chaos, eventually resulting in me looking like a flasher looking for a schoolyard).
Her hot breath on my shaft was all I needed to get hard. I gasped, and grabbed tight to the wheel, as she engulfed me completely and then just rested there with the head of my cock deep inside her throat.
"Uh, you're going to have to sit up and straighten my clothes pretty soon," I told her. "We're getting pretty close to the American border. Jace just made an "mmm hhmmm" sound, pushed her head further down, and started sucking and massaging my cock with her hot throat.
I did my best to maintain lane discipline (that's what my 10th-grade driving instructor called it, although I'm pretty sure "deep throat" wasn't one of the items on his "deadly distractions" powerpoint slides). She repeatedly drew her head up until she was just kissing the tip with her sweet lips and then plunged down until I was at the ultimate deepest depth of her throat. Slowly, with every stroke, she picked up the pace, pistoning me in and out of her throat with determination.
I don't think I lasted five minutes- which was good because we were almost at the point where traffic starts to really slow down when I started cumming. Jace pulled off of my cock and pointed it up at her face (I could only see the back of her head at the time). She jacked me hard and fast. The cum flew. I barely kept my seat, much less directional control of my 2,500lb SUV. She took the entire load on her face, using my still-stiff cock to smear it all around.
I started to panic. "Jace! What the fuck! Clean your face off! We're about to go through the border!" Jace just shook her head, making the little strands of cum dripping off her face swing back and forth alarmingly.
I asked, begged, pleaded, but she just sat there, laughing at me with her obscenely glazed face. And then we were at the border. I frantically zipped/tucked/buckled my way to decency.
The young man who ambled over to my car asked all the standard questions. "Nationality? How long were you in Canada? Are you bringing anything back with you? Any firewood or agricultural products?" I answered politely, handed him our passports and automobile papers. He looked at my passport, then my face. Then Jace's passport. Then Jace's-
Slight Pause…
Passport.
Face.
Longer Pause…
"One moment, Sir… Ma'am…"
He retreated into the nearby door and consulted with another border crossing agent. The other agent came out, looked at Jace's passport. Then Jace's face. His eyebrows furled in thought.
"Welcome Home," he said, handing me back our passports. "You may proceed."
Jace teased me by not wiping up her face until we were all the way to our hotel in Niagra Falls. There, she used her finger to collect as much cum as she could (most of it had dried or dripped off, unfortunately), making me sit in the parking lot and watch her eat it, drop by drop.