You've planned a special night out for us, you tell me. Wear the low-cut dress to work, heels. You will pick me up at my car in the parking lot at 6pm.
When I round the corner I see a vintage white 1945 Buick limousine parked next to my car. I smile to myself, this should be nice, as I open the door and climb in next to you. There is champagne on ice and soft music playing. You pour me a glass and watch as I take my first few sips. Then you direct the driver to head out having already given him his directions before I got there.
I'm sitting next to you demurely, with my legs crossed at my ankles, sipping my champagne, wondering what you have planned. You reach over and run your hand ever so lightly up my thigh, your thumb glancing my lips through my panties. "Open your legs, never sit with your legs crossed when you're with me," you instruct me.
"Yes, Lover," and I immediately do as you say.
You pull the skirt of my dress up and I can see the driver glancing at me in his rear view mirror. With my legs open I'm sure he can see my pussy and I blush. You're watching him, too, and you push aside my panties to get to my juices. You comment how wet I am and how much you like that.
"Yes, Lover, my pussy juices are yours," I say shyly. I can see the driver smile, and I realize not only can he see what we are doing, but he can hear us, too.
We drive for awhile, you occasionally stroke my thigh, have me suck your fingers, pinch my nipples through my bra and dress -- just enough to make sure your pussy stays wet. I'm waiting for you to have me suck your cock, but again you surprise me. You tell me you're going to fuck my pussy tonight, to get down on all fours for you, and present my ass to you.