This deliciously hot car sex story is written and read by Tabitha Rayne.
Of all the people to pick up at the airport, it had to be Sabrina. I waited where I was, engine purring, just a few seconds longer to take in the sight of her. Classic pose, trolley full of Louis Vuitton luggage, sunglasses swept up onto her head holding her dancing soft curls perfectly off her face. A face so fresh, it did not look like it had just arrived from a six-hour flight.
She twisted her wrist and pulled back her cuff to look at her watch. A subtle motion that hit me right in all the hot places. She had the most perfect wrists and used to wriggle when I touched them.
She cast her gaze up and down the queue of traffic, irritation flashing subtly over her poised expression.
I gently pressed the accelerator and pulled up beside her in the empty VIP space. I inhaled to the bottom of my lungs and blew out softly as I opened the door and put on my professional smile.
“Madam,” I said, opening the door for her to step in before attending to her bags. I could barely stop my hands from shaking as I watched her skirt tighten over her ass as she stretched her leg to get into the passenger seat.
She didn’t seem to notice I’d opened the front door, and she’d got in without thinking. I clicked it closed behind and had to stop myself from biting into my gloved fist on the way to lift the rest of her luggage into the boot. I composed myself and slipped round to the driver’s side hoping she wouldn’t see me trembling.
She was checking her phone as we took off, I had time to calm down.
Once we were comfortable on the bypass, I decided to break the silence.
“Good flight?”
I glanced her way as she twisted her attention from her phone and scanned her surroundings.
“Why am I in the front?” A tiny line furrowed between her eyebrows and I caught a flash of recognition cross her gaze. “Wait,” she said her eyes widening, “Andrea?”
“Yes, sorry I… I was so shocked at seeing you I just opened any door and you got in so…”
I can’t explain what this woman had meant to me. She was my everything, so fucking hot, so fucking sexy, capable, ambitious, clever, but I had not been the same to her.
“Andrea I…”
I didn’t want to hear it, not now. I had made things right in my mind a long time ago. But fuck, she made me so horny. I still fantasise about her sweet hot body clenching around my hands. I shifted in my chair and set the car to cruise control. She’d always loved car sex. Always loved the danger that we might get pulled over, or crash.
“Shh…” I said and reached to her thigh. We caught each other’s eye and the flames ignited. “Let me make you come.” I said letting my palm roam to the hem of her skirt.
She groaned and let her head fall back, parting her knees and shifting to allow the fabric to release a little.
I walked my fingers up, eyes back on the road. I couldn’t feel her properly through the leather gloves, even though I’d loved to have had her soaking them with her juices as a reminder of the moment. I withdrew and pulled the popper open and tugged them off between my teeth, then touched her flesh for the first time in years.
She trembled as I hooked my middle nail into the gusset of her already damp panties. A hitch in her breath and shift in her seat urged me on.
Our journey wasn’t a long one so I pushed on, finding her familiar pussy slick and easing my way. She yanked her skirt up over her ass and ground her hips forward, spreading her legs as wide as she could in the seat, knickers dragged to the side. I sank three fingers deep into her buttery yielding cunt and pulsed the heel of my palm on her clit.
“Fuck, Andrea…” She gasped and I kept my eyes on the road as thick squelching noises accompanied the flood engulfing my hand.
I worked my own hips, grinding and gripping my pelvic floor to get some relief of my own.
Her cunt spasmed and clenched around my fingers, sucking them in, then trying to expel them as her pleasure mounted. It was fierce, fast and hot as fuck. I twisted my arm so I could fuck her properly, working my whole arm from the shoulder to give her what she needed.
“Harder,” she said, grabbing my wrist and thrusting me deeper. She was using me like a sex toy and I was fucking loving it.
As I spotted our exit, she let out a roar and clasped her legs around our arms, twitching and shuddering she came so hard I thought she’d swallow me up inside. Every part of me. Lord knows she’d swallowed me whole, soul and all before.
I withdrew my hand carefully and switched on the indicator. It was only a short drive to her hotel from here and she panted beside me. Shuffling down her skirt and righting her make up in the pull-down mirror, her cheeks were flushed and her hair dishevelled.
We pulled up outside the lush palatial hotel and I got out the car to her side and opened her door as professionally as I could.
She carefully got out and I detected a post coital tremble in her legs that caused her to stumble a little.
The doorman came rushing over and caught her under her shoulder, ushering her away efficiently.
“Mrs Campbell, how wonderful to see you again. Your suite is ready…”
She didn’t even give a backwards glance as I started unloading her suitcases onto the trolley.
I drove off pressing my foot to the floor, allowing the high to cascade through me and lifted my fingers to my face inhaling her delicious scent.
It gave me a thrill to think of her rushing to get rid of the sweaty sordid evidence or our raunchy car sex, or did she leave it? Did she walk around with a haze of lust surrounding her, blatantly goading her husband?
I like to think she did…
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