A Little Bit More

Fifteen minutes after our rendezvous in front of Cedar Hill's one-and-only grocery store - Susan in her white Accord and me in my Avis rental - we were cruising in my car through what passed for a "downtown". Our previous few weeks of flirty online chat hadn't pinned down where we would go or what we would do.

"Dinner?" I suggested.

"If you'd like," she replied in her mild Texas drawl. She was a tall woman, my height or even slightly taller, and she seemed almost intimidating as she smiled at me from the passenger seat in the dim evening light. Susan was shapely to the point of being voluptuously lusty, with full breasts that were accentuated by her short-sleeved tan pullover top and the seatbelt that ran between them. She had shoulder length brown hair and long, bare legs below her dark blue shorts and pouty, kissable red lips. I was more interested in those lips than in dinner.

"I could pass on food," I told her. "Though I do have this urge to nibble on _you_." I thought I might as well get it out there.

She giggled. "Really?" She smiled back at me. "You read my mind."

Ten minutes later, we had transitioned from small-town city streets to two-lane country roads, and three turns and five minutes after that, we found ourselves on a lane that seemed sufficiently quiet. And dark.

"When was the last time you necked in a parked car?" I asked her.

"Years, hon, years." Susan laughed and looked down at the armrest between us, patting it, then looked back into my eyes with that ever-present smile. "You think we'd fit into the back seat?"

"That looks like our only real choice," I replied.

The backseat turned out to be cramped, but do'able. "Skootch down," I whispered, and Susan slid lower until her head was flat on the seat and pressed up against the door, and her long legs were splashed awkwardly with bent knees. I wound up half lying on top of her, half on the floor. I could smell her delicate floral scent.

"I don't think this is going to work," she muttered.

"Lie flat on your back," I suggested. She maneuvered her body, ending up with her right leg against the seatback, her knee bent and her foot pressed against one door with her head pressed against the other. Her legs were spread, and her left leg dangled into the darkness, with her foot somewhere on the floor. I eased myself on top of her, settling in between those enticing legs.

"There," I said, adjusting my hips and legs. Susan's arms wrapped around me and I kissed her, deep and open-mouthed wet. Her pouty lips were better than I had imagined they would be. The rest of her body was pretty terrific, also, and my cock was having its normal response. It had to be obvious to her. When her hips rocked back and forth and rubbed her fabric-covered crotch against my hardness straining in my pants, I knew then that it was.

"Lordy," I muttered, "You're incredible." Susan's hips were gently undulating underneath me. We were both breathing moistly, our mouths alternating from slobbery kisses to gentle nibbles. She had me hard as a crowbar. I wished I had rented a panel truck with a bed in the back.

It was too physically awkward to touch her in the way I wanted to, and that was driving me more than a little bit nuts. The back seat of the car was beginning to feel claustrophobic, and I'm sure it was worse for her. She was on the bottom.

I disengaged from her mouth and slipped my body lower, stopping at her breasts. Susan pulled her top up above her bra, holding the bunched up material there and arching her back while I fumbled with the clasp in the back. When I finally teased it apart, she relaxed back onto the seat and purred as I nuzzled her.

"You are," I murmured to her, "magnificent." Her breasts, large and lush, were great big handfuls of tits, and her nipples drew me like flowers draw bees. I teased each of them in turn into a standing salute. Susan purred and groaned those deep-throated giggly sounds that signaled her pleasure.

"You like?" she whispered.

"You have no idea," I replied. "I could stay here all night." I paused to caress the bottom of her breasts with my face. "Except I have more roads to travel and more sights to see."

And so I moved lower down her body. "Jon-" she had a concerned tone in her voice.

"I just want to taste you, baby," I told her, and she relaxed and helped me wiggle her shorts down her thighs, then her panties, then dragged the whole tangled mess the rest of the way down her legs, banging my head on the car ceiling in the process.

It was worth it. I dove in, face first, arching my back and scrunching my legs into an uncomfortable pretzel and slipping half off the seat. But I got my mouth on her glorious pussy with its luscious, slippery flapping butterfly wings of inner labia and a clit that stood up proudly and shouted for attention, all framed by a flattened mass of pubic hair that tickled my nose.

Susan was musky wet and oozing her sweet honey, and I was making every second count. I licked, I sucked, I nibbled. I held her hips tightly and slathered at her wide-open pussy with a muscled tongue. I snaked two fingers up inside her and said hello to her G-spot. Susan lubricated like a country spring as her hands fondled the back of my head, her hips squirming and swaying and fucking her pussy at my face. Her juices coated me from chin to nose and undoubtedly were dripping down and marking her presence on the seat fabric. Thank goodness for rentals.

And all the while she was cooing and moaning and whispering and panting. "Oh, that's it," she groaned, "Oh God, right there, right there," and she'd squirm and buck, and I'd press onward, ever onward. And when she came, when that big clit of hers got bigger and thicker and her pussy got wet enough to satisfy a herd of camels on a two-week march in the desert, she thrashed her lovely ass around on that rear seat and jammed up at my face, dug her fingers into my hair, and let loose a throaty "Oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK!" I managed to keep a thumb plugged into her vagina as my tongue was swabbing her over her crest, and her vagina clamped down tight, followed by an added surge of her fluids.

Oh my!

Susan calmed down from there, but not by much and not very fast. The thrashing was the first thing to stop, then her hip thrusts and her freight train breathing eased off. I backed off from licking her quite so forcefully, though I wasn't going to stop altogether until she pushed my head away. I was still enjoying the last gush on my face.

"Oh FUCK that was great!" she told the top of my head. She brought her hands around to cradle my face. "I told you I get kinda wet," she said. "I hope you don't mind."

I hummed what I hoped she was understand was an affirmative reply into her sloppy open pussy. I didn't want to disengage my mouth quite yet.

"C'mere," she said, pulling up on my shoulders. "I want to taste me on you."

I moved up her belly with a trail of soft kisses, stopping at her beautiful breasts for a reminder of my earlier southbound journey. Susan kept tugging on me, so I moved onward, climbing back on board and finding her mouth with a big, wet, mushy kiss. I didn't want to think about what the front of my pants was looking like.

Susan's fingers reached between us to unbuckle me and work my zipper down, then slither a hand in and grab hold of a very erect penis. "Well," she said, "what do we have here?" I struggled my pants and underwear down over my hips, inching one side down, then the other, then back again, then struggled to move the whole mass down my thighs. Susan wasn't much of a help in this task. Her hand wasn't letting go. Not that I wanted her to stop what she was doing and help.

"Baby, you get hard," she cooed. She had both hands busy now. It was very distracting. The tip of my cock brushed her pubic hair, then brushed deliciously against the top of her wet folds. "Mmmm, baby," she whispered, "Did you bring a condom?"

My heart sank. "No," I breathed. "Shit, no."

"Damn." Her fingers kept stroking me with long, upward movements. Susan pressed my shaft down against her clit. "Rub against me a bit, baby. I want to feel you." Her hands were still, following the gentle thrusting motion of my hips as my cockhead snuggled between her swollen labia and along her slick notch. "Ohhh, that's good..." Her voice trailed off. Her fingers detached and found my hips.

"Just rub against me," she whispered. "It'll be okay. Just don't cum."

I followed her orders. I smeared my shaft along her pussylips, gliding up and down in slow, juicy sliding caresses that left us both breathing hard. Susan was beginning to do those throaty groans again. I'm sure I was, too. It seemed like the right time to close the deal. "I think I told you," I managed to utter between breaths, "I've had a vasectomy."

I could feel everything. The squirmy wobblings of her butterfly wings labia. The hooded stiffness of her clit. The creaminess of her yawning vulva. And the heat, oh that wondrous heat. I could feel it. And I was right there, right at her entrance, poised with my heat-seeking missile.

"Oh baby," she groaned, "It's not that. I just can't. My boyfriend gets off work in a few hours."

And the best thing was that every time my cockhead wandered its way down to her opening, Susan would do this quick stuttering intake of breath and slightly, just ever so slightly, nudge her hips back at me. We got into a rhythm. Three or four slippery strokes along the length of her cleft, then a sustained pause at the beckoning opening to her vagina.

"A few hours. That gives us time." The urge to be inside her was intense.

"He'll want to fuck me." Not as much as I do right now, I thought. I kept sliding my cock up and down her enticing rawness.

"He'll probably want to eat me first."

I restrained myself from suggesting that was his problem, not mine. It just didn't seem like the right time for that attempt at humor.

And then, it happened. I'm not sure if I nudged forward or she nudged upward, or if we both nudged at the same time, but on one of those pauses my cockhead broke the threshold and found itself more than comfortably encircled by Susan's snug outer ring. I was inside her a mere inch, though it was a promise of wondrous things to come.

I stopped moving. Susan stopped moving. "It's okay," she whispered. "You're not in very much." It took all my strength to not just ram myself in all the way. Instead, I slowly withdrew and restarted the rubbing strokes. The next time my cockhead arrived at the gates of heaven, Susan more deliberately thrust up and captured a solid two inches of my hardened flesh.

Heaven! Susan's vagina was hot velvet and juicy beyond belief. Her little muscles at the entrance pulsed around my shaft as my cock quivered inside her. "That's good," she whispered. I withdrew just an inch, keeping my cockhead still lodged inside, and then pushed forward again to the same two-inch depth. "Ooohhh, that's good. You're splitting me open."

"You feel fantastic," I told her. It was an absurd understatement, but I couldn't manage to utter more words.

"More," she whispered. Her hands pulled on my hips and I sunk in. "Oh fuck," she murmured, "Baby, don't cum." Now that was becoming a mountain of a challenge. My primal brain wanted to drive into her and release the contents of my balls, but my rational brain kept telling me to slow down and let Susan set the groundrules.

My rational brain won the argument, just barely, at least for the moment. I slowly pushed in deeper until my pubic bone pressed against her inflamed vulva, stayed motionless for a moment, then began gentle, patient, in and out strokes. Susan's legs sprawled wide, and she angled her hips up to open herself up to me. On every lazy instroke she panted short, quick breaths, then held her breath as I ended with each with a firm, muscled push of my buried cock. On the outstrokes she'd exhale long, throaty moans until my cock was just barely inside, then I'd repeat the inward journey.

It became clear - certainly to me - that even with my slow-motion strokes, I wasn't going to last forever. My own breathing was quickening. My cock was signaling its Red Alert involuntary quivers. "I don't know... how much longer...," I murmured when pausing balls-deep for an extra few seconds. I could see Susan studying my face in the dim light. This time she didn't moan during my outstroke.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Okay?"

"Yes." Her eyes closed. "Fuck me harder. Make me come."

Who was I to argue? My thrusts accelerated. Thirty seconds, I thought to myself, a minute at most. It was a challenge I was willing to accept. Susan's vagina was creamy slick to the point of being almost frictionless as I drove into her, again and again, and that minimal friction helped my weakening self-control even as her breathy, grunting "Oh! Oh! Oh!" vocalizations became noisy and nonstop and got me more and more excited. Her boyfriend could just fend for himself.

I was just about to explode - my cock had stiffened to its final metal-pole hardness - when Susan got there first. Suddenly she stopped breathing, and her magnificent kegels clenched and stayed clenched, and that shot me over the top, too. I jammed my rock-hard cock in all the way and held myself there, using a foot to press against the door as leverage to bury myself in her clamped-down grip, and I pulsed that initial long stream of white into her heat.

Susan exhaled loud, throaty gasps and rocked her hips as best she could, given the pressure I was applying to pin her ass down on the car seat. After her initial five-second kegel clench, she managed a series of strong, two-second clenches, each announced by her deep, guttural groan, followed by a one-second relaxed recovery. Normally, after my first pulse splashes against a lover's cervix, I would resume my thrusts as I keep pumping more juices, but Susan's kegels enticed me to stay buried. I could feel each of my spurts forcing itself against her meaty squeeze around the base of my cock. Her orgasm kept going and going, and that only kept mine going, too.

When it was over, Susan and I clung to each other, struggling for breath. There was sweat on my brow and even more on my back, soaking my shirt. The interior of the car smelled of steamy sex. Inside her vagina she was sopping wet in that erotic, squishy liquid fucked-full way. Her hands kept holding my ass, continuing to pull me close, and her squeezes gradually weakened.

"Well fuck," she managed to murmur, "So much for just making out."

"But you said it was okay."

"I know. I just..." Susan wrinkled her nose. "It'll be fine." Her vagina nibbled at me again. "A little blowjob should settle him down." She chuckled, then laughed - and popped my shriveled erection out. "Oops!"

"I feel blessed."

"You should be!" Susan laughed again, then kissed me. "So when is your next business trip here?"

"As soon as I can arrange it."

Susan kissed me again. "Next time, get a motel room, okay? We'll eat there."

We laughed together. Most definitely.