Engine hums steady. Early morning chill bites the air up north. Carine beside me, old ex, heading to our friends’ Corsica villa. Everyone else left yesterday. We’re quiet at first. Coffee at the service station. She ditches her sweater. Tight long-sleeve hugs her small tits. No bra. Nipples poke through. I stare. She smirks. Knows my weakness.
Traffic thickens near Paris. Talk turns personal. Her job, suits, fantasies. ‘Pants or skirt?’ I blurt. She laughs, remembers my lawyer kink. Stomach growls by 11. Another stop. Her ass sways in jeans as she walks ahead. Firm, perfect. Memories flood: peeling off her thongs, that cambrure.
The Contact
Back on road. I sneak peeks at her tits. ‘Stop staring!’ she teases. Presses them playfully. Cock twitches hard. Nostalgia hits with Matmatah on radio. Our student days. Last fuck before breakup. Tender thrusts, her eyes full of regret. ‘It was good,’ she whispers. Spark ignites.
She changes at picnic area. No services, just toilets. Comes back in floral dress. Mid-thigh. Legs bare. No panties, she admits later. Heat rises south of Lyon. Silence heavy. My eyes on her thighs. She squirms. ‘Our talk excites me,’ she murmurs. ‘But we’re faithful now.’ Her eyes say otherwise.
Fantasies game starts. Hers: hot client at work. Photocopy room ravage. His chest presses her back. Hands on tits, cock grinding ass. Fingers in panties, then bare pussy. Bent over machine, fucked hard. Cum dripping as he leaves like nothing. I grip wheel tight. ‘I’m rock hard,’ I groan.
Her hand on my thigh. Inches from bulge. ‘No touching means no cheating,’ she proposes. Simple. Fresh. Hand slides up her dress. No fabric. Wet fingers glisten. ‘Stroke yourself.’ Zipper down one-handed. Cock springs free, tenting toward dash.
Trucks rumble past. Windows clear. One glance right, they’d see. Heart races. Whispered breaths. Seat leather creaks softly.
Eyes dart: road, her legs spreading. She hikes dress. Fingers circle clit. ‘Show tits.’ Straps down. Small mounds firmer now, post-kids. Belt between them. She pinches nipples. I pump faster. Engine drone masks sighs.
The Indiscretion
‘Dress off.’ Click, seatbelt free. Naked now. Foot on dash. Legs wide. Pussy lips swollen, fingers plunging. Glisten wet. Sun flares through windshield, shadows dance on skin. Moans muffled. ‘Ahh…’ Hushed, nervous.
Cars whoosh by. High cabs peer down. Risk electric. Cock throbs. Close. Too close to mess dash.
She twists. Foot on window glass. Hand grabs my cock. Strokes firm. Leans over console. ‘We cum together.’ Mouth engulfs. Hot, wet suction. Tongue swirls. Her fingers fly on pussy. Hums vibrate shaft.
She bucks. ‘Ah! Ah!’ Orgasm hits. Body shakes. Sucks deeper. I erupt. Spurts fill throat. She swallows, milks every drop. No mess.
Tucks me away. Zips up. Dress on. Seatbelt clicks. Silence falls. Engine hum only. Eyes forward. Reality creeps back.
‘That wasn’t cheating, right? Just sucking.’ Her voice light, innocent. I nod, pulse still hammering. Secret sealed. Horizon endless. Friends await, clueless.