by Mary Potter
Ashley has creamy thighs. I see this as a man who appreciates beautiful thighs on a woman. Since she got behind the wheel, leaned back, and drives with confidence, the length of her dress rides up between her legs. The delicate fabric of the dress drapes between her open legs. She operates with one, sometimes two hands. But she uses a single foot between accelerator and brake. Her left knee presses against the driver’s side door. It gives me a great view of her open legs and a perfect view of her creamy thighs.
ASHLEY
Corey is watching my legs. I didn’t adjust the hem of my skirt when I got into the car. We both know we’re going back to my apartment for something more than chit-chat. I’m a woman who’s not afraid to admit I love sex. I watch porn. I masturbate. These are things that give me satisfaction. I’m an artist. It’s all about pleasure. Visual, oral, auditory, and tactile pleasures are ways of happiness and expression.
Sometimes my neighbors in the adjoining apartment have sex. Their bedroom is adjacent to my bedroom. Sometimes they have outstanding sex. I know this because whether they realize it or not, they sometimes get loud enough or noisy enough to include me in their bedroom romping. I don’t mind. Not really. I have a thankless robotic job where I can go and get all my work done, whether I get five hours of sleep or a full eight hours. If the neighbors wake up at two in the morning to bump hips together, I don’t mind listening. Sometimes when it’s been a long time between their lovemaking, it’s more urgent, more desperate. I get not only her pleasurable whimpers but his repetitive grunts. I hear them climax simultaneously. It’s satisfying, and I like that they want each other to share all of the experience to the best ending.
But I am not afraid of sex. I know what I like, and I know when I want it. I want Corey. I know he’s watching me drive. I know my skirt rides up between my legs. I can feel the warm tingling in my pussy because there is very little fabric from the dress and my panties covering what Corey seeks between my legs. He’s good about not being too obvious—I’ll give him that. And I’m good about not giving away too much of myself because it’s an erotic game, and I am winning because Corey’s cock is exceptionally stiff between his legs.
I know Corey is a patient man. I think he’s the kind of guy who wasn’t expecting too much on our first adventure. I bet he’s the kind of guy who’s smart enough to keep sex out of the conversations or topics of discussion. I know I brought out a lot of his playfulness. I knew from our first interaction, with Tyler mediating, Corey wasn’t uncomfortable with the topic of sex, and he was mindful of not being crass. He has a roommate to pour it all out unfiltered. I suspect Corey is gentleman enough to stroke his cock and cum before we go on the first date.
Chapter 7
COREY
I think she knows that I know her panties are visible. She does not attempt adjusting her dress height, and I’m enjoying the view. The traffic is heavy, which means depending on the road, we have to cycle through two lights before we pass the intersection. I don’t mind because it’s all the same night. We’re on one long, continuously stimulating date. We’re together, and I don’t want it ever to end.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
We’re waiting in bumper to bumper traffic, surrounded by other vehicles of people going in the same direction as us, but going their own ways.
“I’m thinking about how much I am enjoying this night. I’m enjoying just being with you.” I wait for a little and feel the question is relevant. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about how nice it’s been spending time with you. I like that we have no schedule and no solid plans. We can drive to the apartment, or out to the valley. We can go to the ocean, or drive to the mountains. I think that’s why I love this city. It allows for spontaneity.”
“I’m game for anything with you,” I say.
It’s true. Regardless if this turns into a date without sexual contact, I don’t care. I’m with Ashley, and she’s with me. That’s what matters.
But I can’t help see the hint of peach of her panties. It’s the matching color and style of her strapless bra. It’s the perfect subtle shade that blends with her floral pattern dress. And I love that I can see a tease of her panties. She’s got beautiful legs. I can’t help but think what they feel like wrapped around my hips, or squeezing my face as I press my mouth against her pussy.
It’s these ideas I have that wake up my cock. Not that it’s been sleeping. It’s one thing to cum before a date. But that was hours ago before I got to know Ashley. The more I get to know her, the more I want to be with her, not only sexually, but emotionally. She has a fiery personality that gives me chills because I’m not thinking about the immediate intimacy between us. I’m thinking about what it’s like years from now when we’re still together enjoying summer nighttime walks.
ASHLEY
I make no attempt adjusting my skirt height, and I’m enjoying the awareness of flashing my panties. The air-conditioned interior breeze across my naked thighs gives me hot silky wetness inside my panties. I don’t get a lot of sun on my legs, not in the shorts I wear for work. I use a lot of sunblock because I’m often in full sunshine. I have strong, firm legs because I walk miles on my route. I get the right kind of exercise for my calves, hips, thighs, and my ass. I know I don’t have a narrow, featureless ass. I have an ass that stands out in a crowd. I know I have the kind of backside that men like to look at, and women want to compare.
“The traffic is crazy,” Corey says.
“Are you in a hurry?” I ask quickly.
“Not at all, I’m enjoying the ride.”
“You know what I’d enjoy,” I say.
“What’s that?”
“I’d enjoy the feeling of your hand on my thigh right now.”
It takes a moment before I feel Corey’s hand seek out my thigh. I’m driving and in control, and I’m thinking the right elevated truck with a conscious passenger might see Corey’s hand on my leg.
I feel his fingers gently caress my leg. He takes it smooth and slow. It’s the kind of hand that’s masculine and strong. He takes care of his hands. I don’t know if he often moisturizes, or if he moisturized tonight, but I like the feel of his fingers against my thigh. I feel the tease of delicate caressing against my skin. Chills erupt across my legs, climb up my insides, and explode over my face and neck. I shutter lightly and let out a sigh.
It’s the kind of sound that makes Corey tense in a way that is animal, male. His fingers reach deeper into my thigh. I open my legs more, and his fingers lightly test the fabric over my pussy. Sitting there at a light, I don’t care that the passenger in the SUV to my left can see Corey’s hand riding up my skirt or not. I kind of want him to see. I want him to see how my lips part as I open my legs more, waiting for Corey. I encourage Corey’s fingers to trace the line along the hem of my panties. I can feel the naked contact of his fingers against my thighs and the mild fabric contact separating his fingers from entering my slit. I want his fingers inside me.
I lean back and sigh again. It encourages Corey to probe me through the thin, wet fabric of my panties as we move through the thick traffic. I take my left hand off the wheel, reach down between my legs, and press his hand against my pussy. My muscles flex. I know he can feel my pussy reacting to his touch.
Chapter 8
COREY
I think the drive is forever. I don’t know where Ashley lives, and I don’t care. I feel her hot wetness through the material of her panties. I think the guy in the SUV saw my hand against Ashley’s pussy before the truck turned left. I don’t think she cares.
I reach deeper, leaning toward her. I feel her radiant heat through my fingers. I smell the scent of her conditioner and her body wash. She smells like lilacs and rose pedals. She squeezes my hand with her thighs, and then when the time’s right, Ashley opens her legs again. I use that timed moment to pull at her panties, shift them to the side and tease the silky folds of her pussy against my index finger.
It’s
the middle finger that makes the best penetration. I don’t think it matters to Ashley as long as she can feel my finger sliding inside of her. I can feel her coming alive. I feel her muscles tense and relax. I can feel her encouraging me to probe deeper inside her.
She’s watching the road with intent. Her teeth drag across her bottom lips. She has both hands on the wheel and staring straight ahead. Ashley hasn’t looked at me since I pressed my fingers inside her. I have my middle finger and my ring finger inside her with my index and pinky playing flat against her fuzzy rim. She’s riding my fingers, driving, and twisting the steering wheel in her fists.
I see the sparkle of perspiration across her forehead. I feel her contracting around my fingers. I move my fingers in a way that makes her moan. She’s riding my hand, she’s driving the car, and I am crazy in love with this woman. And I haven’t even kissed her yet.
ASHLEY
This man, this wonderful older, patient, and experienced man, is about to make me orgasm sitting in the middle of downtown traffic on a hot Saturday night in San Francisco. I don’t think Corey notices I drove by the apartment complex four times since we started. I don’t think he’s paying attention to landmarks and traffic. His fingers inside me are almost there. I feel that urgent surging pressure that makes orgasms all worthwhile.
At the next light, I put the car in park. We’ve got traffic on either side of us. Corey removes his hand from between my legs.
“Wait for a second,” I say.
I reach down with both hands. I pull at the restrictive and binding panties. I want to enjoy my orgasm. I want Corey to enjoy having his fingers fucking me as I ride his hand to the climax.
When I remove the panties, I hand them to him. It feels natural. It’s in the way Corey takes them gladly. Before I put the car in drive again, as the light changes, I see Corey press my panties to his face and inhale. He smells me, he’s got my scent, and I never want him to forget it. I put the car in drive and step on the gas pedal. I open my legs and reach down with my left hand.
I raise the hem of my skirt and expose my trimmed pussy to him. I know in the passing streetlights he sees the glistening wet lips and the soft chocolate color of my pussy hair. I want his fingers inside me again. I grab his hand and pull him to me.
Chapter 9
COREY
The seat belt restricts my movements, and I think that’s half the fun. I think it’s the proximity, the fact I can’t wholly kiss Ashley’s mouth as she drives. It is dangerous and exciting.
This time when I slide my fingers into Ashley’s pussy, my digits are wet and slide in and out with ease, and I know Ashley likes it.
“Yes, just like that,” she says.
A lot is going on around us that I hadn’t noticed before. Now, as I finger fuck my beloved, I see some of the landmarks and the street signs. I know we’ve been through this neighborhood at least once before. I think Ashley wants to have some spontaneous fun in the car, and it is incredible. I think she’s in love with the feeling of openness. I think she likes the public exposure. There’s no potential of getting caught because we’re having fun in a safe place.
“Right there,” she says. Her words breathy, she’s pressing against my hand. I have two fingers inside her pussy. “Faster.”
She’s staring ahead. I see a bead of sweat roll down her temple. She’s very close. I know because I can feel her thighs trembling. We’re so close, and I feel my cock involuntarily flex at the thought of her orgasm coming, rising, breaching the surface as she drives the car.
I know she’s there because she’s caught in a scream. Her voice haltingly whimpers as she pants and shakes. I feel it rising in her. “Don’t stop,” she says.
ASHLEY
I am going to cum all over this lovely man’s hand, and I don’t care if the whole world sees it. I know a few people can tell what Corey is doing to me. They can see the pleasure on my face. I know the windows in the car have only a mild tint. But he is sliding his fingers in and out of me. His fingertips tap my clit with expert motion. I know Corey wants me to orgasm. I can’t think about the thick cock inside his pants. I know if I think about it too long, I’ll want to get my hands and mouth around it. I have to wait until we reach the apartment for that. I have to feel it right now, his fingers making me cum.
“Fuck me,” I say breathlessly.
The traffic stops moving again. I feel Corey reach down with his right hand to the gear shift and press it into park. I don’t know how long the light is, but I know it doesn’t matter.
I pump my hips against his hand. I feel his big stiff thick fingers pressed inside me curled up slightly because he already knows I can feel the tickle of his fingertips against the inside of my clit.
I am, “Almost there,” I say.
“Yes, baby.”
I whimper involuntarily. I feel it rising in me. I feel his thick fingers fucking me. I can hear the slick repetitive smacking of my pussy against the stiffness of his fingers.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes. Oh, God, yes.”
I feel that incredible overwhelming rush of intense love wash over me. My thighs squeeze his hand. My pussy clamps against his fingers and I am riding his entire arm, pressing against his arm. I wrap my hands around his arm and press my face into his sleeve, and I cry out as one orgasm overlaps the last.
Its everything he can do for me that makes Corey the best thing that ever happens in my life. It’s the beginning of something special and forever. When I look at his face, I see it in his eyes.
We’re laughing together now because we have to move again. I have to drive because people are beeping behind us and want to keep going. I want to keep going. I want Corey to keep going with me.
Epilogue
COREY
There’s something about spontaneous love that makes it last forever. I don’t know how to explain what has happened over the last four months together. Ashley is someone who has opened me up in ways I never thought possible. We learn more about each other every day. We have a glimpse in time that is fervent and forever.
We make a lot of changes in the following weeks that put the two of us onto a path of forever.
“What do you think of the extra space,” I ask.
Ashley has a studio for her art in the two-bedroom apartment. Tyler agrees to switch flats. He takes over Ashley’s old one-bedroom studio, and I get Ashley, and she gets a large bedroom where she can continue to work.
“I think Tyler’s going to enjoy living in that apartment building. The neighbors that live next door to me have loud sex in the middle of the night sometimes. If he likes that sort of thing,” she says. It’s an admission that comes out as easy as asking what we want for dinner.
“Did you like that sort of thing?” I ask.
“Well, yeah, of course. It’s erotic. I don’t know if they knew how loud they got sometimes. I enjoyed a few shared orgasms with them.”
I shake my head at Ashley. “You are amazing.”
“What’s amazing is we’ll likely be that couple fucking in the middle of the night, so the neighbors hear us.”
“We never get complaints about that kind of thing,” I say. “It’s probably not the kind of thing people want to report.”
Ashley finishes setting up her easel and gets the rest of her paints arranged in a unique way to her. She stands back to admire the workspace. Tyler had the bigger of the two rooms. The drop ceiling hid the old vaulted ceiling in the place, and I pulled off the ceiling tiles, so Ashley has more overhead lighting inside the studio. She has plans to paint the ceiling to help reflect more natural color and brightness.
“You sure you don’t mind the two of us living together?” she asks.
Ashley stands barefoot on the paint-splotched fabric drop cloth under the easel. It has years’ worth of additional colors, and her creamy legs rise off the floor and into the loose boxer shorts she likes wearing when she’s inspired to paint. I notice she’s been inspired since we moved in together. I hope she never loses he
r inspiration. She’s wearing a ripped white tank top that shows off her arms and the shape of her breasts. I can see the dark areolas through the white cotton. I know Ashley sees me looking at her breasts because her nipples come alive.
ASHLEY
I never miss an opportunity to spend time with Corey. He is my whole world. We love to share memories and a bed. He has his time hanging out with Tyler. I have the time I need alone to make art. I think I’m good at what I do. I know the few shows I have get attention. I have plans. I know Corey has plans. We have projects together. He’s everything and perfect, and he loves me for who I am. He doesn’t mind the unabashed or unapologetic way I want to make a move to him. He likes that I take a few risks, and I’m not terribly shy. I know he likes the men looking when they think he’s not.
I get an email a few months after I’m together with Corey. My work is frantic and heavy because I feel an inspiration that I never experienced before. I know it has a lot to do with the fact that I am finally in love. I can’t work fast enough to empty all my ideas out of my head and spread them all over the canvas.
“I think this is it,” I say.
Corey looks up from reading something on his smartphone. He’s in the living room, and I come from the studio.
“What is it?”
“It’s an email from an agent who saw my work at the last show I had. She wants to meet me in LA next week.”
“That’s fantastic,” he says.
He puts down the phone on the cushion and comes to me. Corey puts his arms around me. I see the phone on the sofa, left behind because he cares more about me than his smartphone. I love that about him.