Tony had just slid behind the wheel of his car when he noticed that his boyfriend Wyatt was beginning to unbuckle his belt.
"Um...what are you doing?" Tony asked, shocked but amused just the same. They'd just left a nightclub, and after a good three or so hours of some serious partying, Tony's adrenaline rush was beginning to wane. He'd only had a couple of drinks (enough to give him a nice buzz, but not enough to impair his driving abilities), but Wyatt couldn't exactly say the same thing. He wasn't falling-down drunk, but he was still good and sauced nonetheless, having really partaken of the spirits that night. Tony deduced that this was the reason he appeared to be coming out of his clothes right there on the side of his Subaru.
"Start it up," Wyatt said. "But keep the headlights off."
"What the hell...? Wyatt...!"
Wyatt shushed Tony, fumbling for the button on the waist of his pants. His fly came down with a brief zip!, and in an instant the loose-fitting, cream-colored slacks were down around his ankles.
"Holy shit...!" Tony screamed, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. He was suddenly relieved that the club was in a very large industrial area where not many cars passed by. Fortunately, there was no one within eye shot of where they'd parked, so the sight of his boyfriend coming out of his pants right out in the open was seen only by him.
"What can I say?" Wyatt said, stepping out of his pants and tossing them into the backseat. "I'm feeling kind of frisky tonight."
"I'll say," Tony quipped.
Wyatt had gone commando that night, and as he stood beneath the pale yellow-orange light of a nearby streetlamp, Tony noticed that his 8-inch cut cock was hanging thickly at half-mast. He didn't know just what Wyatt had planned, but he was definitely eager to find out. Wyatt plopped down into the passenger seat and shut the door, sliding the seat far enough back to give his sturdy 6'2" frame enough room to stretch.
"Go on. Drive."
"You're sitting bare-assed on my leather seat."
"My ass is clean," Wyatt laughed, his voice a lazy drawl of lusty drunkenness.
"Wait...don't tell me you're gonna leave the shirt on?" Tony said.
"Mmm-hmm."
"What are you gonna do?"
He looked over at Tony without saying a word, and Tony's breath caught momentarily because he'd never seen Wyatt stare at him so wantonly. Tony glanced down at Wyatt's cock, which had gotten even harder, and watched as he gave the palm of his hand a generous lick.
"Drive," he instructed again.
Tony buckled up, turned the headlights on and slowly pulled away from the curb. He hit the down button on his side to relieve the stuffiness inside the car, lowering his window a few inches. They hadn't gone half a block when Wyatt began to stroke off with his slicked hand. He closed his eyes and slid down in the seat a bit, the street lights creating shadows that danced across his face as they moved along. He inhaled sharply as his idle hand snaked beneath his shirt to fondle his right nipple. The sight of his big, hunky, blonde boyfriend pleasuring himself in the passenger seat of his car was seriously beginning to turn Tony on. It also angered him that Wyatt was going to make him drive the roughly 30 minutes back to their place with a raging hard-on.
"There's some danger in what you're doing, y'know," Tony remarked, making a quick right onto a street that led out of the industrial area.
"What danger?" Wyatt asked. "The freeway's deserted this time of night."
The streets were deserted as well. The four-way traffic light at the edge of the industrial area had gone from yellow to red as they approached it. Tony briefly entertained the notion of gunning through it, but nixed the idea when he spotted the traffic camera across the street.
"What if somebody pulls up beside us?" Tony asked.
"They'd have to be in a truck to see anything."
"Okay then, what if they're in a truck?"
"Then I guess they'll get the thrill of their lives," Wyatt said, smirking. He was pacing himself, pulling his meat in long, slow strokes. The hand that had been fondling his nipple slid down to his pubic area, and he rested his index and middle finger on either side of his cock, gently applying pressure. He'd previously told Tony that this technique made his orgasms much more intense, but Tony had never actually seen him do it, not even after he'd pulled out of him to ejaculate when they were making love.
Tony's cock suddenly jumped beneath the restrictiveness of his jeans. He wondered if Wyatt would let himself come to full orgasm before they reached home, or if he was merely readying himself for a session of marathon fucking later on. Either way, Tony was growing hornier by the second. He shot a quick glance over at the traffic light. Still red.
"Damn," Tony muttered, immediately noticing a pair of headlights approaching from behind. "Don't look now, but someone's coming."
"A truck?" Wyatt asked.
"No, thank God."
A cherry red BMW convertible occupied by two women pulled up beside the Subaru on Wyatt's side-the driver a blonde, the passenger a brunette. Tony had seen the blonde earlier that night in the club, but not her raven-haired friend. Music blared loudly from the convertible's speakers, making the inside of the Subaru vibrate.
Wyatt remained undeterred by their present company as he continued to stroke himself. It was almost comical to Tony, seeing his boyfriend beating his dick just out of view of two random women who had no clue what was going on right beside them. He figured they'd surely be mortified-or maybe even intrigued-if they knew. Whatever the case, their presence was making Tony increasingly edgy. The blonde placed a cigarette between her lips and struck a match. When the tip of the cigarette glowed, she shook the flame out and tossed the used matchstick from her side of the car. Tony figured she must've sensed him watching her, because she turned her head his way and locked eyes with him. She blew a puff a smoke and smiled, and Tony nervously smiled back. She turned to her friend and they both began to giggle.
