Christened 2

I met a man, as so often happens when a lady goes out. He was nice, flirtatious in a respectful way, which is always a plus. Paid me a few compliments to which I didn't return the favor - can't make things too easy. Anyway, we spent most of the night talking. We talked of vanilla things such as life, interests, etc. But I was aware of how very much attracted to me he was. I'm usually able to ignore this when presented with it, but I was surprised to find myself equally - if not more so - attracted to him.

Now this was no ordinary place, where we met. In fact, it was a place designed to accommodate a person's more...carnal desires. So I felt perfectly justified in taking advantage of the situation. Kissing him tasted so good, minty and sweet, with his tongue mimicking the plans I had for his cock later on. And I had no idea a tongue in my ear could have me dripping, shivering in pleasure. It helped that he was older, had more experience, tricks to pull out of his hat. He had me ready to do anything and everything.

I was surprised, when I unzipped his jeans, at how hot his cock was. And I don't mean attractive, because by nature, not the best-looking part of male anatomy. No. But temperature-wise, it was like a gentle fire, enough to keep my hand warm on a cold night. I remember thinking it a great testament to my power as a hot piece of ass, though classy of course. Anyway, I got as close to having him inside me as I was comfortable with in a public place - which meant my dress up, his cock pressed against my clit, rubbing me back and forth - and it was not enough. Never enough.

Then the question became, how quickly can we find a place to fuck? Sure, we could've chosen any of the beds or couches provided, but doing the deed in public wasn't on either of our agendas. And some people (read mostly old, forward, horny men), think if they see a couple (I use that term loosely) playing, it's an invitation to jump in, touch and join. That is not the case. When I choose someone, I want them. And my choice was bursting out of his jeans with need, while I was suffering withdrawal symptoms from something I hadn't even felt yet. So the club was out, his place was out, and mine was too far. That left only one place.

My car.

The backseat of my baby girl had never held more possibility than on that night, as we drove around town, searching for as secluded a spot as we were likely to find. We finally settled on a school parking lot, and convinced we were safe enough the clothes started to come off: my boots and socks, leggings and top, panties; his shoes and jeans, shirt. If there's one thing I love it's the weight of a man on top of me. And as he settled down, we fit like lock and key. His hips settled against mine as I wrapped my legs around his waist, his face flush with mine as he slid his tongue inside my mouth, tasting me, my nipples hard, pressed against his chest, wanting him still closer. And when finally he pushed inside me...he was hot and erect, and I was dripping wet. He slid inside me deeply, watching pleasure ripple across my face. He grabbed my tits, squeezing the nipples between his fingers, drawing little gasps from my throat. His hips pumped hard, his ass flexing under the grip of my hands as I tried to draw him in deeper, thrusting my hips up to meet his. The windows were dense with fog, a faint musk filled the air, and the only sounds were our moans and my continued chant of 'fuck me'.

He pounded into me, faster and harder. I squeezed my legs tighter around his waist, my hips bucking to take as much of him as I could. I squeezed myself tight around him, letting him feel my heat for him, my juices coating his thick cock. I begged him not to stop, to fuck me harder, to cum inside me. I could feel him getting closer, the buildup as his breath quickened, as he pounded faster, as his entire body tightened around me, until in a moment of space he exploded inside of me. I followed close behind on my own wave of pleasure, crying out as my body came apart at the seams.

I don't think I'd ever felt sluttier than doing a stranger in the backseat of my car. But at the end of the night, after we'd said our goodbyes, the only thought left in my mind was: when can I do it again?