AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is Chapter 6 of the saga of Tom and Liz Raines. Most of it will not make sense unless you have read at least the first chapter. It feels like Chapter 7 will be the end. This story started out as a simple idea that could be used as an excuse to write hot sex scenes, but early on the situation turned into something deeper and more complex. So where the first chapters were largely sexual adventures with some mental and emotional anguish, these later ones have become the opposite. Thanks again to all who have stuck with the story, and for the comments and encouragement, and the votes. I tried not to let the suggestions steer the story.
As always, if this subject matter appeals to you, read on, and I hope you enjoy their tale. If not, please select another story by another fine author on this site.
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Tom loaded the last of the bags into the trunk and closed the lid, then leaned on the back of the car and waited for Liz to come out. He was anxious to get on the road, even though it would be too early to check in. He had plans for this trip, big plans for him, for Liz, for his video collection, and especially for testing the limits of the Organization that chafed and irritated him, like psoriasis on his subconscious.
They had only had sex twice since Liz returned from her visit, not including the blowjob she'd given him that day; quiet married sex, like the good old days. He'd enjoyed it, to his surprise, and they had reconnected during their evenings together. He'd put away the camera and set aside his misgivings and suspicions and resentment of Them and their Agreement. It had been a good couple of days.
Liz had happily agreed to the days away, and had taken Thursday and Friday off work, like him, so they could enjoy the long weekend. He hadn't yet told her of his plans; that could wait until they were on the road. She was finishing dressing when he started hauling out the bags, and was probably walking the house, double checking the doors to see they were locked, turning off the coffee pot and making sure the iron was unplugged, as usual. Unless she checked, she wouldn't feel comfortable leaving. I was how she was, and it had stopped bothering him long ago. They joked about it as he carried out the bags.
He resisted the temptation to check the contents of the 'extra' bag; he'd checked and double-checked last night -- camera, power cord, extra battery, toys, and a laptop to download the videos. He checked his watch, ten-thirty already, what the hell was she doing, he thought. But just as he moved to go in and coax her out, the door opened and she stepped out. He watched as she closed the door, locked it, and checked to make sure it was locked securely, and he drank in the vision of her as she came down the few steps to the car.
As always, she was lovely. Her hair shone and framed her beautiful face, and she smiled, a full face smile, right to her sparkling eyes. It was exhilarating to see her like this, the woman he had fallen in love with, walking towards him, radiant with the joy that shone through her, lighting her up. It drew him to her as it always had, and it was doing it again now. She wore a dark skirt to her knees, and a light tee shirt under an unbuttoned sweater. Her necklace and bracelet glittered along with her earrings, her nails and lips were polished and glistening. She was elegant and confident and made it nearly impossible to look away as she stepped into him at her door, and kissed him. Her face angled up to his, the sun lighting her cheekbones and eyes, half closed, as their lips met, briefly.
"You look fabulous," he told her, touching her arm, and reaching for her door.
"Was it worth waiting for?" she asked, smiling, repeating one of their recurring jokes as she slid into the passenger side. Always the last one ready, she had defended it once as being worth the wait, and he used it as a compliment the next time, and now it was a regular routine for them.
"Always," he told her, grinning, meaning it, and closed the door. Damn, she is beautiful, he told himself as he moved around the car to the driver's door. And they were on their way.
They chatted intermittently as they began the trip, as always Liz was the more perky, more chatty as they headed for the highway. Later, with about ten miles of highway behind them, Tom changed the subject.
"Hey, Liz," he began, "remember the Balcony night?" he asked.
He heard the grin in her voice. "I don't think I'll ever forget it."
He didn't glance at her, just focused on the road. "I hear that. It was so crazy, out there where people could see..." he let the idea trail off, then added. "Pretty hot, right?"
"Definitely," she agreed. "definitely hot."
"What was hotter, being naked on the balcony, or being seen naked?"
"Being seen naked," she chirped, and added, slightly lower, "and fucking."
He murmured his agreement, then started slowly. "We're still pretty close to home," he began," but as we keep driving, we'll be further and further. Less and less chance of seeing anyone we know." He watched the road, didn't glance at her. He'd plotted this, planned the speech. Why was he nervous? "I want you," he told her, "to wait until you're comfortable that we are far enough from home," he said, "and then take off your shirt and bra."
"Oo-oo, really?" he heard, and her voice told him she was better than agreeable.
"And then, when you feel okay, take off the skirt, too."
"And the panties?"
"Nope. Why don't you take them off now."
Watching the road, he saw her shift in her seat, and reach under her skirt and wiggle her panties off her hips and down her legs. "Check it out," she said, and he glanced, quickly, to see her skirt hiked up at her hips, exposing the shaved area between her legs. Then she leaned over, and looped her panties over the rear view mirror. "Think anyone will notice?"
"Maybe," he grinned, "but later they'll be distracted by a more exciting view."
"You want people to see me naked?"
"I want them to see what I see, a beautiful, sexy woman, with a sexy hot body," he told her. "I want them to get excited seeing you the way I do, to want you, and then drive away jealous of me and what I enjoy."
"You say the nicest things."
He glanced again, seeing motion, and saw she was taking off her sweater, folding it neatly, and turning to place it on the floor of the backseat. "Just getting prepared," she said with an anticipatory lilt. He saw movement again, and glanced to see her doing that thing, where a woman takes off her bra from under her shirt and pulls it through her sleeve. She folded that as well. Who folds a bra, he thought.
The traffic was light and the road was not difficult, so after she turned and settled back in her seat he risked another glance at her, slightly longer. His eyes drank in her beauty and seductive sexiness in those few seconds, then he tore his eyes away, then checked her out again. The shoulder strap nestled between her breasts, amplifying the impression her braless mounds made under her tee shirt, her nipples rising and poking through the thin material. They swayed slightly with the motion of the car, and she sat, quietly smiling, her right elbow up at the base of the window. She looked a dream, an incredible, sexy dream. He felt a stirring in his crotch and focused on the road, and they drove in silence for a while. Every few minutes he glanced sideways to see if she was moving, but she didn't stir, just sat, looking out the window with a small smile.
The highway was two lanes, and he kept to the right, allowing speeders to pass on the left. It was only a few more miles before he saw movement, and he turned to see her removing her seatbelt, and cross her arms in front of her, grabbing the bottom of the tee and pulling it up over her head. She folded it, and leaned back to place it with the rest of her discarded garments, then sat back and rebuckled he seat belt, the strap laying between her breasts. She fidgeted a few minutes.
"The strap is bothering me," she said, "but I really don't want to sit in the front without a seatbelt."
"Climb in the back?" he offered, and in an instant she was climbing between the seats and into the back seat. He slowed the car to the speed limit and adjusted the rear view mirror to see her. She was sitting in the center. "That's not much safer," he observed, and she agreed, and shifted behind the passenger seat.
"This feels so naughty," she chirped, "I like it."
He glanced in the rearview mirror as cars passed, oblivious to them. "Play with your nipples," he told her, and glanced in the mirror to see her hand, lightly caressing her pink nubs, raising them to full erections. She pinched them, and moaned lightly.
"Why don't you move to the other side, behind me," he suggested, and she did, and resumed touching herself. Tom adjusted the mirror to see, but his view was blocked a little. He saw a car passing on the left, and increased his speed to match theirs. He wondered who might be inside. "There's a car, right next to us," he said, "sit up and show them what you're doing."
He sensed her moving, turning, and she said, "Oh my God, they're right there, shit, it's an old couple, the wife is watching me pinch my nipples!" she squealed, but he didn't sense her pulling away. Tom slowed, and they passed. The thought of her flashing herself was turning him on. He sensed movement in the back, and then saw her arm placing her folded skirt on the floor of the back seat.
"I'm completely naked now," she joked, "don't you dare get pulled over, or into an accident." He heard the laugh in her voice, layered over her desire. He wished he could see her, despite having seen her naked for so many years. He glanced at the side mirror, saw an SUV approaching, and saw a couple inside. He couldn't tell how old, but clearly not seniors. He increased his speed a little as they came up.
"Here's another car," he called to her, "give them a nice show."
"Oh, yeah," she said, and he heard the window going down. He couldn't see her, but he saw them pointing at the car. "Oo-oh, that's cold. I'm sticking my tits out the window!" They were closer now, and he saw they were about his own age, maybe a little younger. They slowed to match Tom's pace, slightly behind him. The woman in the passenger seat pulled her window down, and stuck a hand out, making grabbing motions. He forced himself to focus on his driving. "I think they like it!" she told him.
"Show them your ass," he answered, and felt her moving around, then heard the horn from the other car.
"I guess they like it!" she said. "I think they saw my pussy, too!"
