Sports Car

Hello my Dark Darlings –


I’m participating in #masturbationmonday by posting a story of in-car mischief (yeah guys – my specialist subject!) but for those not used to English cars, a gear stick is also known as a stick shift.  Please tell me if I’ve used any other quintessentially British phrases and I’ll translate!

Sports Car

He’d already impressed her; tight jeans, flopping fringe of golden hair, low slung dark green sports car.
She wanted to impress him; clingy dress (not the style other girls wore) cut glass accent and big innocent eyes which belied her wicked, spicy side.
They drove home fast down winding country roads with high banks of fragrant grass and flowers, the top of his car down, making her hair whip her face.  Her skirt fluttered and she allowed it, knowing he’d catch a glimpse of stockings clamped with suspenders.  Her heart leaped in her chest when he took the corners fast and competently, the thrum of the sporty engine thrilling her as much as his daredevil driving.  
She placed a hand on his arm as they neared the churchyard, knowing they’d have privacy.
“Let’s park,” her voice was snatched away in the night air, but she knew he’d heard.  
His left hand dropped to the leather-topped stick as he deftly dropped gears and steered the car’s long bonnet up the gravelled path towards the flintstone church.   Killing the engine and turning off the headlights, he plunged them into stillness and silence, but the anticipation beat like a pulse between them.
He turned his head, his beautiful profile making her bite her lip, while her lust drove her to unbutton the front of her dress.  Unclasping the front of her bra she shrugged the fabric away, baring her breasts for him to feast his eyes on her pale skin and pebbled nipples.
He kissed her deeply, while roaming his hands over naked skin, pinching and twisting her nipples which excited her in ways she’d never imagined.  He bruised her lips with bites and caresses, but when his mouth made a hot trail down her neck to her clavicle, she moaned aloud with desire.  She felt tiny and fragile in the grip of his capable hands, he so experienced and she only on the nursery slopes, but the idea of bending to his will was intoxicating.
Her dainty lace panties were sodden, she felt herself liquefying around the fabric and an urge to offer herself to him like a sacrifice, primeval and strong.
“Let me do something for you,” she breathed, her heart pounding against her ribcage with boldness.  “Something no other girl has done.”  She held his gaze, her eyes dark with lust, willing to try anything he asked right now.
He reached under the fabric of her dress, using both hands to drag her knickers over her hips and off, they were soaked, they’d pulled a warm sticky trail down her legs.  He held them near his nose, his mouth, then licked a little of the salty tang before pushing them in the pocket of his jacket.
“Anything?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers with a serious expression, making more moisture flood her pussy.
“Anything,” she nodded, “I want you to remember this fuck. I’m not just another girl.”  Although even as she said it, she was afraid she might be.
His warm hands were on her waist again to fondle her backside through her dress while he thought, then a lopsided smile broke over his face.
“Do you think you could sit on this?” he asked, indicating the gear stick with a caressing hand.  It was large and bulbous, like a small leather pear and had a thicker circumference than any cock she’d accommodated.  She wanted to please him, take his challenge, thinking about it made her feel hot and wet and a total vixen.  She nodded, sure that she could and was delighted to see lust flare across his face.
Straddling the two footwells of the car, she drew her dress teasingly up her thighs. She knew her legs were mesmerising:  tanned, toned and waxed smooth.  Her pussy was also devoid of hair, the dark fleshy folds were naked and sensitive to the slightest touch and now dewy, coated with evidence of her arousal.
She hovered over the swollen head of the gear stick, mentally bracing herself before beginning to lower onto its fullness, feeling a burn as it stretched her wide.  His eyes were fixed on her pussy, watching it greedily swallow the leather bound knob within her hot, moist depths.  His erection swelled insistently against the tight fabric of his jeans.  As she sank lower onto the gear stick she steadied herself, hands on his shoulders. He allowed her to set her own riding pace but kept his hands at her waist, part of the action as she rode up and down slowly, a pony on a merry-go-round pole.
She sighed with the stretch and drag of it, and felt exalted to be exhibiting illicit, lewd behaviour at his bidding.  He dampened his fingers then returned to pinching and twisting her bare nipples, she dropped her head back, lost in the ecstasy of her building sensations.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded and she lightly tapped the tip of her clit with a fingertip, drumming gently, but insistently as her climax focused in on itself.  He released his aching cock from its denim prison and began to stroke it while he watched.  Her skin seemed luminous in the low lux glow from the moon. Her pointed nipples bobbed as she began to judder, her climax almost upon her.  Swiftly he lifted her off the shaft of the gear stick and onto his own throbbing member.
Her moan was a sigh of satisfaction fused with a groan of desire so he pressed his hips up hard, thrusting deep inside her just as her pussy began to throb and clench.  She felt the throbs run up from her toes to her thighs, her molten core grabbing and chewing at the the thick rod of his cock as he fucked her, their combined fever making for a rough and brutal coupling.  Her moans continued, she felt stabs of pleasure, each thrust  touching her g-spot and the spasms of climax radiated out from her core, making her torso twitch towards him.  
He held her down against his groin with an iron grip on her shoulders, while she felt his cock driving its final, fluid-pumping thrust deep within her, leaving her satisfied and validated.  His groan of ecstasy caused her stomach to flip, yet the involuntary pelvic spasms while he emptied his seed gave her a sense of power.  She looked down on him as the waves of her pleasure abated and felt sure this was a fuck neither would forget.

10 thoughts on “Sports Car”

  1. This was a steamy story, Posy! Nero hit the nail on the head. Did you used to write for Penthouse? You may have to have a new section of Pillow Talk… 'Posy's Pornography'! Nice work. Some good lines too. I liked this one… 'her voice was snatched away in the night air' and 'Although even as she said it, she was afraid she might be.' Excellent story.

  2. Interesting point Graeme, but the poor girl doesn't even know if there will be a next time, and he did ask her to do it ….
    As for the other gushing praise, thank you, I have read those publications but never written for them, but I'm flattered you consider I'm writing in their style.

  3. Great tale Posy. Like how "spare" it is – not a word in there that didn't need to be – sniffing her panties and then licking them is certainly behaviour i would have expected from my man years ago ;-)x

  4. Pingback: Paradise by the Dashboard Light - Posy Churchgate : Pillow Talk

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