It's early on a sunny weekday morning. I've taken the day off from work under the pretense of a doctor's appointment, but I don't actually have anything on my schedule. The day stretches before me, limitless in possibility. In the shower, I shampoo and shave my legs. Since I'm at it, I might as well shave the down covering my pussy. One likes to be careful whenever sharp edges are near one's sensitive bits, so I take my time, carefully opening my folds to make myself bare. Once done, I rub perfumed lotion into my naked vulva. I think that paying attention to my pussy is something I'd like to spend the whole day doing!
One of my favorite things to do is drive. Most of my friends hate the frustration and the traffic, but I've always found it relaxing. Of course, it helps that one of my other favorite things to do is flash other drivers. A sunny weekday morning is the perfect time to do both.
After applying lotion to my shoulders and F-cup tits, I choose a bra. Today is a good day to go push-up. I pick a black one with a deep plunging front. After hooking the back, I pull the cups down in front and tighten the shoulder straps to maximize what I like to call Boob Overflow. My pink mounds spill over the tops of the cups. It's pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. Over that goes a tiny button-front v-neck top whose straps are no wider than the bra's. I pick a flouncy skirt in a pretty print and slide it over my bare ass. No need to bother with underwear or hosiery today!
First on the agenda is a trip to the gas station. I purposefully go to the only one in town that offers full service. I don't want to pump my own gas today.
Other
kind of pumping, well, yes. But we'll get to that. The guy manning the hoses today is mid-thirties and paunchy. He gets an eyeful of Boob Overflow when I open my window. I smile widely and say "Fill 'er up, sir!"
He flinches a bit, which delights me. While he busies himself at his task, I find a tube of red lipstick and carefully apply it in the mirror. I can see his furtive glances in the reflection. I'm still primping when he returns to tell me the total. I take a minute to fish out my card, all the while jostling my breasts with my arm movements. As I hand the card over, I rest my other hand in my cleavage, tracing the curve with a manicured nail. "Um, thanks, ma'am. B-be right back." The register is behind the car, but Sparky takes the long way around the front, taking his time to ogle my treasures through the windshield. Looking away, I give my tits a quick caress for his benefit (and mine, too!).
While he's gone, I undo the top two buttons of my top and pull the gap open revealing the black of the bra cup. When he returns, my right hand is inside the top, running over my left tit. He hands the clipboard to me, and I sigh before I remove my hand to take it from him. His eyes are goggling. Hah! That might just be drool! I sign the slip, take my copy and give the apparatus back to him, holding on to it for juuuust a second when he takes it. He's desperate for me to pull his hands to my cleavage, but terrified I will. I can hear him exhale hard when I release. Maybe some other time, I think. "Have a nice day!" he says, a bit too brightly.
"Oh, honey, I intend to," I reply naughtily. I pull away and leave him slack-jawed.
Seat belt in place, I drive to the nearest interstate. The access road is full of distribution centers and big box stores, busy with truck traffic at all hours. At each red light, I make it a point to stop beside a different truck. I position my car so that a view to my tits is slightly out of reach. If the driver is paying attention and wants a proper gawp, he'll pull forward the few inches. (If he doesn't, well, his loss.) There are half a dozen lights on the route; I get takers at three. Each of the three is rewarded when I reach up to stroke my bra cup and the tops of my tits. One of them honks his appreciation. I don't look at any of them, but the honker can see me smile. I'm a little disappointed that Honker doesn't turn onto the entrance ramp of the interstate to join me, but I know I'll have others before too long.
We're past rush hour, so commercial traffic is the majority of my company today. I'm traveling east into the sun, letting the rays warm my exposed skin. I put on some sunglasses. Dark glasses and scarlet lips are a cliché, I know, but, come on! It's an effective combination! Besides, obscuring my eyes lets me choose my playmates with a greater level of discernment. Lots of men automatically (and wrongly) think any eye contact equals an invitation; being able to avoid this is just plain useful.
At this point, it's time to up my game. I reach into each cup one at a time, and lift each breast so that the tops of my areolae are exposed. My nipples begin straining against the edge of the cups. More buttons are undone. I pull the top as open as it can go with the two remaining buttons closed. My entire bra is now visible. The loose left strap of the tank droops a bit down my arm. I check to see if everything is in order. Time to get to work! I accelerate into the left lane.
By this time, my pussy is growing wet. I refuse to give it attention, however. I'm a good driver, but I don't trust myself to drive and masturbate at the same time. Plus, building the tension is part of the fun. My pulse quickens and my breathing gets shallower. The anticipation is nearly overwhelming.
As I pass the traffic in the right lane, I look for likely candidates for flashing. My car sits higher than most sedans, so those get ruled out right away. SUVs and minivans are as often driven by women these days; they're out, too. Buses and coaches are also off limits: I don't want to flash children. Drivers of semis will get a good view, but they're usually out of my sightline on a two-laner, so they're not my first choice. Full size vans, step vans, pickup trucks, and delivery trucks are good. Driving into the sun means that a truck's side view mirror will give me a clear view of what the driver looks like before he's able to see me. Also, any traffic behind me is plainly visible through their windshields.
