Driving in these parts of town usually soothes me. I was always a nervous driver, but something about the endless highways at night, where there's practically no one around really lets my mind drift. As I passed every exit, I thought about my plans for the evening: a warm bath, a romance novel, and some Earth-shattering orgasms, courtesy of the new vibrator I had ordered and heightened by the weed gummy I had the foresight to take before my drive, so it hits just as I get home. I hit the acceleration and drove faster. Although I love my fiancee, I don't get many nights without him, so I try to take as much me time as I can when he's off for work. My nipples stiffened and I grew wet as I thought of the evening ahead.
I started to pull into my exit just as the weed gummy's effects creeped in and my phone rang. I must've looked down for just a second when BAM -- I hit the pick-up truck in front of me, stopped at the red light.
Fuck. There goes my evening.
I start freaking out internally as the driver of the pick-up truck started to climb out. My insurance rates were already through the roof and I really couldn't afford to take another hit with all the wedding costs my fiancee and I were incurring. I had to pray that the pick-up driver would take pity on me somehow, but I was doubtful -- I've never met a truck owner who didn't love his car.
As he approached, I started to get a good look at him -- he was older, maybe in his 40s, but he wore it well. Salt and pepper hair and beard, a solid frame, wrapped in flannel and denim. He knocked on my window and I rolled it down. Hopefully I could talk him into going outside of insurance.
"You think you're going to check out the damage?" he asked. I realized my mistake -- I must've looked crazy just sitting there. I climbed out of my car and stood in front of him. I looked to the fender. It was pretty damaged, but luckily everything else looked fine. I looked at him and he looked livid.
I don't think he's going to take pity on me.
"Who the fuck taught you to drive!? How did you hit a stopped car? The fuck is wrong with you?" he yelled. I tried not to space out, but the gummy was really starting to hit. He looks into my car window and sees my phone and the wrapper from the dispensary.
"ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH RIGHT NOW?" a blood vessel could've popped. He suddenly seemed much taller, as he waited for me to answer. Fuck, he wants me to answer.
"... look, I'm really sorry, I really didn't mean to hit you, I'm just really nervous on the highway and didn't realize there'd be anyone else this late. I can pay to repair your fender, but let's please not report this or bring insurance into this..." I drifted off a bit as I said it. Focus, focus!
He looked me up and down. I was wearing a cropped tee and low rise sweats, having just come from a laser hair removal appointment. My skin was exposed, smooth, and a bit pink. I realized too late that he could very obviously see the outline of my extremely pointy nipples and a bit of my thong. I cross my arms over my chest to deter his lingering gaze.