Too Close for Comfort

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About a week ago, I was having sexy flirty time online with a local friend. I have met him in person a couple of times, and he is not only attractive, but smart. REALLY smart. The kind of smart that makes me wet. He gets very excited when he talks about politics AND he is liberal. I am usually attracted to men who libertarians, probably because I am so liberal myself. But this guy speaks with such intensity and passion, not to mention a sexy accent, that I don’t need the extra kick of arguing with the devil about self-determination to get me going.

Even as I was explaining to him that he was just a little too geographically close for me to seriously flirt with, a fantasy was forming in my dirty little mind. In fact, the reality of his proximity is what made it even hotter. I knew that with a little planning, a little timing, and a lot of anticipation, something could actually happen with him.

I would want to meet him for lunch, nowhere special. During lunch, he and I would talk about all sorts of thing; politics, alternative medicine, and religion. As he talked, I would find my pussy growing wetter and wetter the more animated he got. His accent would become stronger the more passionate he became. Finally, after hearing him talk for close to an hour, just the two of us, it would be time to go.

I would walk him to his car, and ask to talk just a little longer. He would invite me into his car. I would climb into the passenger seat while he got into the driver’s seat. I would make sure that I sat in a way that caused my skirt to move up enough on my legs that the top of my stockings showed.

The smell of my wet pussy would be apparent. He would lean over to try and kiss me, and I would shake my head no. This was not that kind of encounter.

I would put one leg up on the dashboard, and the skirt would ride up even more. The pussy smell would fill the car, and I would use my left hand to reach over and open the fly of his khakis as my right hand went under my panties into my wet cunt. I would play with it for a while, at the same time as pulled his hard cock out of his pants.

So there I am, legs splayed open, one hand on another man’s cock, and one hand in my pussy. Although the precome spilling from his head would provide some lubrication, I knew we needed more.

I would pull my leg down, turn to the side and sit on my knees facing him. I would once again reach into my panties, but this time with my whole hand. When the right hand was slippery and covered with my juice, I would take it out and put it on his cock. Then I would stroke his cock up and down, first with one hand, then with two. I would lace my fingers together and rub all over the cock, and then take one precome and pussy coated hand and shove it into his mouth. The taste of my cunt combined with the saltiness of his own cock would send him into spasms, and without asking permission, he would push my head down into his lap and shoot all over my face and mouth.

When his breathing finally returned to normal, I would wipe my face with his hand, and lick the come from from his fingers. Then, I would smile at him, get out of the car, and walk away, never even looking back.