"So do you want to go out tonight? I want to."
"What should we do? Dinner?"
"Hmmm I'm not really hungry. Why don't we just go for a drive? Maybe through the canyon, it's beautiful at night. We can pull over and go for a little hike, sound good? Hike through the trees at night, no flashlights. Yeah, let's do that."
When we're walking out to the car, I mention that it looks dirty. Needs to be washed. Why don't we stop at the car wash on the way? Just drive through it real quick, get all the bird crap off of it. You know how much I love car washes, that illusion that the car is moving, how it gets all dark and claustrophobic. Loved it since I was just a little girl. Better grab a coat, it's a bit chilly.
I fiddle with the radio while we're driving, scanning quickly through all the stations, not finding anything I like. You hate it when I do that, so I settle on something quiet, turn it down low, curl up in my seat and just watch the night fly by. We pull into the gas station and I start to get excited. You get out and walk inside to pay for the car wash and I watch you go, my head tilted to the side, smiling a little. Thinking. Conniving, really. When you return we pull up to the car wash, punch in the code, and roll inside. I pull my seat belt off when we get inside, turn towards you and unlock your seatbelt. The water starts to spray over the car, making the view through the windshield a dark, wavy mass of color. You smile at me and how much I love car washes. Before you can tease me, I lean over, kiss you softly on the lips. Just once, real slow and soft, warm, my hand against your cheek. Then I lean over into your lap, unbuttoning your pants and you laugh. You know what's coming next. You scoot down a bit in your seat. I pull your zipper down, carefully free you from your jeans. You look at me, my hair falling down over your knees, the length of my back between the seats, the waist of my jeans opened up in the back, so you can see the top of the crack of my ass. No panties. You slip a hand down there, brushing my lower back, running your palm over my ass.
Meanwhile, I've gotten to work. Laughing a little in my throat with you in my mouth. I am not taking my time, knowing the car wash will not last long and you will soon have to drive again. I arch my back, pushing my ass up towards your hand. Press the flat of my tongue against the underside of your cock, rub it there hard. Suck. Slip it out of my mouth then back in again, pushing it to the back of my throat and holding it there, tight. You curl your fingers around my ass, reaching for my smooth little peachfish, and find it there, all warm and wet, waiting for you. You slip two fingers into my slit, glide them up and down for a second, then push them both inside of me, surprising me, catching me off guard. My breath catches, then I moan against your cock in my mouth. Slide it in further. Your other hand is curled in my hair, guiding me.
You hold your fingers deep inside of me for a second, not moving, just being there. Feeling me. Hot, wet, silky soft. I tighten up around them, push back against them. You slide them out, then back in again, moaning with me as I copy your moves with my mouth. You open your eyes for a second and realize the car wash is finished. Someone is parked behind us, waiting, their headlights shining in your rearview mirror. They honk and I pull my head up, grinning at you. Grab your hand that was down my pants and slip your fingers into my mouth, cleaning them off.
"Maybe we should go," I say. You grin back at me, and we drive off. I rebuckle my seat belt and remind you to do the same.
You drive a little too fast, which is out of character for you, but I think you're just anxious to get to our destination so that we can continue what I've started. We reach the windy canyon road, follow it further into the trees and I peer down at the creek, all silvery in the bright moonlight. I try to find the moon, but it's somewhere above the roof of the car and I can't see it. I can, however, see the big dipper and I point it out to you.
"That is MY constellation," I say, and you laugh at me.
"Is that so?" You ask.
I say, "YES, it is branded on my body."
You say, "How do you know it is not the other way around? Maybe YOU belong to the big dipper."
I sit and think about this, watching the trees fly by. I love to look out the window while you drive. I remember how when I was young I would peer out the window and imagine myself riding a bike on the side of the road alongside the car, flying over cracks in the sidewalk, weaving between parked cars. I tell you this, and just when I'm finishing, you pull off to the side of the road and park. Turn the car off. Pull me to you. Kiss me and tell me you love it when I tell you stories about when I was a little girl. I kiss you back, closing my eyes and just feeling you there. We sit there and kiss for a long time, me half in your lap, curled up against you. Every once in awhile a car drives by, washing us in the light from its highbeams.
I pull away from you, smile and bite my lip. I glance out the window into the dark trees. Look back at you. That mischievous glint in my eyes.
"Chase me," I say, pushing the car door open and slamming it back shut, running out into the trees. You follow me, I can hear the leaves crunching under your feet. You're peering around trees, squinting in the dark. I hide behind a wide tree, peek back around it to see how close you're getting. My heart is pounding. This is fun for me. I let you look just until you start to worry, maybe feel the beginning pangs of panic, calling my name out into the darkness. You walk near my tree and I jump out, yell "BOO!" and make you jump. I laugh at you uncontrollably, feeling kind of bad but not being able to control my giddiness, my excitement and nervousness, being out here alone with you in the wilderness. I double over, clutching my tummy. I love to play jokes on you. I think you like it too.
You grab my forearms, push me back up against the tree, a little forcefully. I stop laughing, sigh a little, trying to catch my breath, looking up that half inch into your face. You're not mad, you're just ready to finish what we started in the car. I smile at you, not like a little girl this time, more like the woman I really am, starting to burn between the legs, knowing, in that moment, that I am about to be fucked.
