The Test Drive

Even I had to admit my choice of outfit was a little over the top. My sweater showed cleavage (thanks to Wonderbra). At mid-thigh, my pleated skirt barely covered the tops of my stockings and garters. Four inch black heels completed the just-this-side-of-streetwalker look -- but, I figured if I was going to talk the talk, I'd better walk the walk. Past experience had taught me that a large part of pulling off role-playing is looking the part; it's easier to be someone else when you don't look like yourself.

My yellow SUV is not exactly low-profile and I was pretty sure he saw me pull on the lot. I cruised the rows of new cars, stopped by the model I wanted to test drive and got out. He allowed me time to walk around, looking at different colors and option packages, before approaching me. I was pretty sure he knew what was going on but I still had butterflies in my stomach as I watched him come across the lot, putting on his sunglasses -- a lot depended on the first few seconds of conversation.

When he was close enough, I turned to face him and stuck out my hand and introduced myself. His step faltered, confusion having the upper hand; then understanding dawned and he shook my hand and gave me his name, asking me if I was looking for anything in particular in a new car -- his manner was professional, all business.

We discussed the benefits of automatic versus standard shift, V-4 compared to V-6, would I be willing to accept a single disc player rather than a 6-disc changer if the car had everything else I wanted, was I willing to negotiate on color if it had a sunroof... all the while walking from car to car, checking out interior colors, reading window stickers.

From a distance, there was nothing unusual about the encounter; just another customer not willing to commit to a new car payment just yet -- he was going to have to work for this commission.

We stopped next to a black, sun-roofed, 4-door and I asked, "Can I drive this one?"

"Sure, let me go get the keys," he replied.

He turned to go but I stopped him when I asked, "Would you mind moving my car out of the way while you're going? Just park it up next to the service area would be fine, the keys are in it. You look like somebody I can trust."

The exact nature of the game became apparent when he opened the door of my car and found my black lacy panties on the driver's seat. He turned his head away from his co-workers in the showroom, brought them up in his fist and inhaled the mixture of soap, perfume and female excitement. I was pretty sure that was one pair of Victoria's Secret I'd never see again.

Before going inside to get the keys, he spent quite a bit of time making sure my car was parked straight, locked, etc. I suspected he was using these few moments to get the evidence of his arousal under control; it would not be a good idea to have a semi in your khakis and run into your boss in the showroom.

I was having a difficult time keeping my excitement under control. Up until this point, we had enjoyed several mutually pleasurable encounters on-line, seeing who could say the most explicit, dirty, outrageous things -- revealing secret desires and fantasies -- safe in the knowledge that it would never be anything more than that. I found our chats so erotic that simply thinking about what I had been willing to reveal to him on-line, my nipples would become sensitive and harden and I would be overcome by a delicious wave of desire that was so strong, it took my breath away. This man coming across the parking lot actually knows more about what turns me on than any other human being -- a knowledge that leaves me feeling very vulnerable.

He handed me the keys and went around to the passenger side, "Is it okay if I come along? You may have questions about the car or need directions -- I'd hate for you to get lost."

"Probably a good idea, I'm not from this area and don't feel comfortable driving in this kind of traffic. Besides that, I was by myself for the three-hour drive up here, somebody to talk to will be nice," I told him.

"Is there anything you may have left in your car you'll be needing?" He let me know the gift I'd left for him on the seat was not unappreciated.

"No, I'm pretty sure I've got everything right here that will be necessary," I told him, putting my over-size purse in the back seat, making sure his view down the front of my sweater was unobstructed as he got in the car. What I lacked in size, I tried to make up for in packaging -- I had on the sheerest bra I own, leaving no doubt about the color, size, shape, or degree of arousal my nipples were exhibiting.

After making all the necessary adjustments to the seat and mirror, he directed me to turn left out of the parking lot. As his hand came near my face, pointing in the direction he wanted me to go, I opened my lips and sucked his finger into my mouth, teasing the length with my tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure and suction. In and out, the encounter could not have taken more than a couple of seconds but the look of surprise on his face made me laugh out loud.

Being up to the challenge and knowing the ball was in his court now, he moved his hand to the back of my neck, pushed his fingers through my hair and pulled, applying just enough pressure to tilt my head back but leave me in control of the car at the same time. He leaned closer to my ear, "Are you really prepared to go there, cum-sucking slut?"

I nodded, a thrill of desire running through me. He let go of my hair and reached for the hem of my skirt, starting to push it further up my thigh and, in a moment of panic, I jerked my leg away. He raised his hand and popped the inside of my leg and I gasped as I watched the imprint of his fingers slowly turning red. It was then that I knew I was no longer in control of what was going to happen -- my breathing turned shallow and I was wetter than I could ever remember being.

He directed me through several more turns, getting me completely lost, before telling me to pull into a do-it-yourself car wash and park in one of the open bays. He got out of the car, pulled down both doors and put several quarters in the slot -- the water would run for 20 minutes.

He got back in the car and told me, "Sweater, off, now."

I hesitated just long enough, his hand found my hair again and snapped my head back, "Did you hear me?" he asked.

"Yes," I gasped, reaching to unbutton my sweater.

"No, pull it over your head."

As I grasped the bottom of my sweater and pulled it slowly over my head, his hand reached behind my back and, in that unexplainable way guys have, unhooked my bra in one swift snap of his fingers. He laid the sweater and bra in the back seat, leaving me with nothing more than my skirt, stockings, garters and shoes.

He leaned across the seat, cupping my breasts, "Perfect peaches" he said as he started to knead the flesh, gently pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. A moan I couldn't control escaped, making him smile as he increased the pressure he was exerting on my nipples. The moan quickly turned into a gasp -- the fine line between pleasure and pain blurred in the wake of my arousal. He lowered his head, taking one nipple between his teeth, biting lightly before sucking it into his warm mouth. His tongue was doing incredible things to my nipple, sending lightning bolts of pure desire coursing through my body, making me shift in the seat, looking for relief.

He continued this torture, switching back and forth between nipples -- the pinching, squeezing, biting, sucking was making me wild with the need for more.

He sat back, a smug look on his face and asked a simple, one word question, "hot?".

Eyes closed, head back, a nod in the affirmative was all I could manage. I could not remember ever being this turned on by somebody playing with my tits but I knew I didn't want him to stop.

His next words caused me to snap my head around, looking at him in disbelief, "Prove it." I wanted to pretend confusion, act like I didn't understand what he wanted, but I knew very well what he expected me to do. He reached out and caught my right nipple in a firm pinch, increasing pressure as I hesitated to do as I was told.

I slowly reached under the hem of my skirt, bunching it up as my hand moved closer to its goal, moaning as my finger slid easily into my wet, ready pussy. I withdrew my finger and offered it to him, the proof of my excitement, as ordered. With no hesitation, he pulled my finger into his mouth, sucking and licking until it was clean. "Mmmmm, I think I want some more -- but I'll get it myself this time. Spread your legs."

I did as I was instructed, letting my knees fall apart, willingly giving him the access he needed, anticipating his touch. He unerringly found his target, one finger quickly joined by a second, filling my pussy side to side and I rocked forward to take them deeper, needing to feel them move in me.

With his other hand, he reached down and released the seat back, lowering it until he was lying almost flat. "I think there's something here that needs your attention, slut. You'd better get busy." He punctuated every word with a hard, deep thrust of his fingers, moving me ever-closer to the point of no return. I knew it would not be long before I would reach that place where I am so turned on that I will literally do anything, say anything, agree to anything as long as the pleasure doesn't stop.

I laid my seat back, enjoying the different sensations his fingers provided as my body changed position. With the steering wheel tilted all the way up, I got on my knees in the seat, facing him, legs spread wide and sitting on his hand -- in this position, I had not only his fingers in me but the heel of his hand was now resting on my clit, direct pressure and friction that I could, more or less, control.

I leaned over the low console between the seats and released the button and pulled down the zipper of his khakis -- anticipation making it difficult to breathe. He cooperated as I worked his pants and then his boxers down over his knees, freeing his cock which was now arched across his lower abdomen. At the first sight of his erection, a chill ran through me which I would have liked to blame on the air conditioner vent blowing frigid air across my sensitive nipples, but I knew better.

As I lowered my mouth toward his cock, I turned and asked, "Are you sure you're ready to go here?" In answer, he roughly shoved a third finger in my pussy, grabbed my hair and pulled my face up to his.

"I've been ready for this for a long time, bitch. It's time you proved what a cum-sucking slut you are." With this, he pulled his hand away from my pussy, leaving me empty. I moaned in disappointment and pleaded for mercy, willing to beg if I had to, but knowing what I would have to do to get his fingers back.

I gently took the shaft in my right hand and lifted the head of his cock to my mouth, taking his balls in my left hand, feeling their weight and knowing the load that was waiting for me there. My lips parted and I gently ran my tongue around the rim of his cock before taking the entire head in my mouth. My tongue continued to circle as I slowly worked my way down the length of him, not stopping until my lips reached the hand circled around his shaft. I didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until I heard him let it out with a long, contented sigh, "Oh, yeah, that's it."

I retraced my path back up his cock, stopping when all that was left in my mouth was the head and then I moved my hand up his shaft, using my warm saliva for lubrication, then back down, gently pumping, applying different amounts of pressure, alternately licking and sucking the head, carefully massaging the sac I held in my left hand.

His hand found its way back between my widely spread legs, satisfied that I would continue to provide him with the pleasure he had been waiting for. I moaned low in my throat as his fingers brushed my clit, making their way between my swollen lips, and finally into my waiting pussy -- three fingers, to the hilt, fast and hard -- I thought I was going to pass out the first time he got deep enough to hit my G-spot (yes it does exist).

I was now devoting my full attention to his cock, confident that my pussy would be taken care of. I varied my rhythm and depth, running my tongue along the underside of his cock, down to his balls and then back up again, taking the head in my mouth -- keeping it unpredictable, not ready to settle down to serious sucking yet. In perfect timing with the movements of my mouth, I rocked up and down on his hand, moving my pussy along the length of his fingers, rubbing my clit against the heel of his hand -- well into the zone now, I could not have stopped if I wanted to.

When the time was right, I took his cock deep in my mouth and started moving up and down the shaft, applying suction, my hand stroking in the same rhythm -- up to the head, down to his balls -- picking up the pace, just one goal in mind. I dared to glance up, expecting to see his head back against the seat, eyes closed, lost in the feeling. I have recently discovered that men are very visual creatures -- stimulated more by what they see than what they can imagine behind closed eyelids. I was rather unsettled by his clear blue eyes, staring straight into mine, an evil smile of pure lust on his face -- he was watching every move I made!

I took my mouth from his cock and watched the clear pre-cum as it gathered at the tip. I sat back on my heels and looked at his hand between my legs, curiosity getting the best of me. Understanding what I needed, he started to slowly move his fingers in and out, letting me watch as his fingers opened my pussy, spreading it wide, showing me the glistening wetness I left on them as he withdrew.

I lowered my head to his cock, licking the fluid from the tip before taking the entire length of him into my mouth. "Mmmmmm" was all I could manage, words were not possible. I settled into a serious rhythm now, a steady movement of mouth and hand, hungering for fulfillment. As the speed of my head bobbing up and down on his cock increased, so did the rocking motion I was making on his hand -- taking his fingers as deep as possible, the friction against my clit taking me ever-closer to where I needed to go.

The change in the size of his cock warned me to be prepared -- that moment when I have to control my panic and resist the temptation to withdraw my mouth -- just relax and go with it. I held still over his probing fingers, focusing on his orgasm, wanting to get the most out of the experience. I am always surprised by the first burst of cum -- the heat, the taste, the force with which it hits the roof of my mouth.

I swallowed the first of it, overwhelmed by how fast it was filling my mouth, worried I wasn't going to be able to handle the volume. As he reached the peak of his orgasm, I started moving my pussy on his fingers again, wanting to catch up. I swallowed the last of his cum, gently massaging his balls to be sure I got it all before letting his depleted cock slide from my mouth.

I was now able to concentrate on my own rapidly approaching orgasm. It didn't take very long -- the anticipation had been building toward this for a long time -- and I was definitely ready. The intensity was overwhelming and I was beyond the point of control -- eyes closed, head back, his fingers slamming into my cunt, I hit the summit of the roller coaster and started that first drop. I could not stop the moan that became a scream -- I was riding this one out for all it was worth. I felt the walls of my cunt spasming around his fingers, grasping and releasing in rhythm with my orgasm and I heard myself begging him not to stop, ashamed of my need but not caring.

In response to my pleadings, he started moving his hand up to meet the downward thrust of my hips, pushing me over the edge and into wave after wave of pleasure so intense that I was not aware of where I was and really didn't care -- all that mattered was what was going on between my wide-spread legs.

When I thought I would lose my mind if it didn't end, I grabbed his wrist, stopping the motion of his fingers and collapsed on the seat, trying to catch my breath and regain my sanity. I whined in disappointment as he withdrew his fingers, not ready to give up the full feeling of satisfaction he had brought. An after-shock tore through me when I looked up at him to see him calmly licking his fingers, savoring the juices my incredible orgasm had left behind.

He put his seat in the upright position, reclaimed his pants and got out of the car. I hurried to put my bra and sweater on before he could open both doors to the wash bay. With the seat and steering wheel adjusted again, I pulled out of the car wash and headed back for the dealership.

I parked the car in its original space, handing him the keys as I got out. He walked me to my car, handing me one of his business cards as we approached the passenger side. He opened the door for me and stepped behind me as I laid my purse on the seat, leaning over to the console to get my sunglasses. I knew he was blocking the view from the showroom as he moved the hem of my skirt up, drew back, and slapped my ass cheek -- a bright red handprint quickly surfacing -- a souvenir for the ride home.

I moved around to the driver's door, shook his hand, thanked him for his time and told him I'd let him know about the car. His evil grin as he winked over the top of his shades let me know exactly what he meant when he said, "Come back anytime, I'll be glad to show you anything else you might be interested in."

Oh, yeah, this was far from over.