A five hour drive home from a week visiting my parents. It was his first meeting with them, and he'd done well. He'd ignored my dad's jibes, and attended to my mom's interminable stories. We'd stayed at my sister's house. She's a prude, and while she didn't object to us sharing her guest bedroom, if she'd caught wind of any sex there would have been no end of snide comments and disapproving glares. Suffice to say, we were both randy and more than anxious to get home.
The day was clear and dry. The traffic was lighter than usual and we were making good time. I leaned back in the passenger seat with my hand on his knee. I glanced over and saw we were clocking a steady eighty miles an hour. I glanced up at his face, then down at his crotch.
I wiggled in my seat, struck with the strongest sense memory of his cock in my mouth, of the taste of his cum, of the smell of him, deep in his crotch, when he's sweaty, hard and my nose is buried in his pubes. My pussy clenched hard; I shivered.
"You alright, babe?" he asked
"Yeah," I responded while watching him watch the road, and squeezing his knee.
I think it was the absurdity of the idea that made it so appealing. The sheer stupidity and the enormity of the potential consequences that made it intoxicating. I slipped out from under the shoulder strap of the seat belt and twisted to face him more fully. I moved my hand to his center, and massaged his balls.
"What're you doing?" he asked, shifting.
