Here we are, late September in Tennessee. The tree are wearing the colors of fall and the autumn chill has found it's way down from the mountains. The State Fair was underway in Nashville when the following story took place. I was meeting Carmen, whom I introduced to readers in an earlier story. We met about three months ago, now. The fair is a good three hours from where I live, so I arrived at her door about 9 am to take her to the fair with some friends of ours.
She was so adorable wearing a gray and black Jones New York cowl neck sweater with vintage jeans and a pair of black boots. It accentuated her body very well. My heart skipped a beat because she looked sexy as hell and given our past sexual exploits, there was a large degree of attraction there as well. I kissed her on the cheek and we hugged before we headed out.
From there, we drove to Nashville to meet our friends. The ride was fun and wasn't boring at all. Singing badly to Lady Gaga and Pat Benetar, we chatted about sex, tv, and pretty much whatever came up. At times, my hand would reach over from the gear shifter and rest on her thigh. I was very used to riding with my hand in the passenger seat when I wasn't changing gears, so it was a very natural act. It had happened at least two times self-consciously and I removed my hand each time after realizing my gaff. By the third time, she told me that it was ok and that she didn't mind. Then she flashed me that smile of hers.
Her hand eventually met mine and held it. We continued to talk as if nothing was happening. We were talking about how hot Christina Hendricks was when I noticed that Carmen had become a little flustered. Her free hand rested on her neck, gently massaging it and she cleared her throat a few times. Turns out that she really liked the busty redhead from Mad Men. So much so that she regularly masturbated to her. I thought it was delightfully delicious and exposed my own self-pleasuring fantasies. Those of who know me well are familiar with my infatuation with Emily Deschanel, Morena Baccarin, and Michele Rodriguez.
A few minutes into that conversation, Carmen stated that she was wet. I laughed and she apparently didn't think I believed her. It was then when she took my hand and placed it over her jean-clad mound. I felt the heat and could swear to each and every one of you that I felt the proof of her desire. I playfully tickled her knee and she retorted, I had become caught up in playing like a little school girl that I had not noticed that my hand had left the steering wheel. The bumping of the tires against the side of the road caught my attention and I quickly regained my composure and control. We laughed at our little "mishap" and continued onward to Nashville.
The fair was ok. We rode some of the rides, had a few good laughs at the expense of the Wal Mart-esque fair patrons and the group of us, about eight in total, began horse playing in a manner not befitting our ages. Who cared? I didn't. I gave up caring about age a long time ago. Up to this point and for the most part, Carmen and I did not play into the attraction we had for one another. She was getting along fabulously with Amber, a friend from college. We got paired together on the ferris wheel and when we got "stuck" on the top while those below us unloaded, there was a moment of silent awkwardness behind us. We were huddled pretty close, by the nature of the ride itself. I can not deny that I wanted to kiss her. Hell, she was an attractive girl and there was a sexual past shared between us.
She smiled and leaned into me, kissing me on the lips softly. I savored the touch and looked into her eyes before returning the favor. The kiss itself was soft, tender, and slow. No tongue. Just a simple and long exchange of lips. We stopped when the ferris wheel moved and I had noticed that we had started holding hands during the rest of the ride. There was definitely growing tension from that moment on until we left late in the afternoon.
As the sun set, our little gang parted ways and returned to our daily lives. Carmen and I headed for the car, we joked, played, and held hands like very affectionate girlfriends.
Turning on the ignition, I reached for the shifter and put it into first. Carmen's hand covered mine. I looked at her, smiled and she did the same. It was a very soft and tender moment that just seemed to be leading to something else.
The three hour ride was fairly uneventful as we laughed and carried on, much like we had on the ride to Nashville. When we pulled up to her apartment, I turned off the car and walked her up to her building. We hugged and I began to turn and walk away. Her hand caught mine and she pulled me back.
