I want a ride down a dark country lane with you, the smell of the sultry summer night wafting in through the open windows. I want to hear hard, pounding rock and roll playing on the stereo, the bass line thrumming, vibrating and pulsing though my body. I want to tease you, to torment you, to tempt you, to make you ache with wanting me before I even kiss you as you drive through the darkness.
I want to slide my fingers slowly up and down your jean-clad thigh, edging ever closer to your fly with every circuit. I want to unfasten that button, lower the zipper and slide my hand inside. I want to free your cock and explore the hard smoothness of you with my hand. I want to play my fingers over the length. I want to reach under my skirt and shimmy out of my panties and drape them over your erection. I want to caress you through the sheer pink silk of my panties. I want to see you grow harder and harder and hear that gasp as I touch you again and again. I want to feel you thrust yourself into my hand.
I want to touch my breasts through the diaphanous fabric of my blouse, stroking and fondling them until my nipples are rosy and firm, aching to be touched, to be licked, to be sucked. I want to unbutton each one of those tiny pearl buttons on my blouse, one by one, and turn slightly so you can watch as my breasts, swollen and aching for your touch, your tongue, are revealed. I want to slide my fingers inside my open blouse and gently flick and pull my nipples with one hand while the other one continues to caress your cock through my panties.