Front Seat Fuck (In Progress)

May. 1st, 2008 at 2:53 AM

The sun poured down on me like an ocean of heat. Slick lines of invisible waves danced above the asphalt and the sweat beaded up and poured into the spaces between my breasts and thighs. I thanked god for customized hard top convertibles as I roared down the lonely stretch of the 92 east my car's wheels are tearing through. The tires of my 1972 Chevrolet Malibu hugged the curves of the winding 92 and I sped towards my destination. The slick black gloss of my car made it look like a speeding oil slick come to life, save the matching platinum white racing stripes sliding over the hood and down the trunk in unbroken beauty. Chromed hubcaps and trim shone and sparkled in the noonday sun and the wind whipped my hair into a bed head frenzy. The car's floor behind my leathered driver's side bucket seat rattled with the sound of an empty plastic bucket filled with soap, wax, and sponges. My trunk was filled with baby soft cloth diapers waiting to be dragged across the hood in loving circular caresses. The girl to do it was waiting for me at an old abandoned gas station. We'd discovered it on a long drive one day, just before the 280 it sat delapidated and sagging, the broken light bulbs of it's signage a glaring reminder that this place was a ghost town fixture along the highway. We had stopped there to take photographs, on a spring day right before the summer hit us full force. In a fit of post photo shoot desperation brought on by the heat we had accidently discovered that although the place wasn't running any longer, it's water supply still was. She was a 20 year old then, with all the tenacity and pretenious outrageous exuberance of her youth and she had remarked on a whim that she would love nothing more than for me to fuck her over the hood of my car in a place like that. I took the dare in stride, telling her that if she could supply the hose, I would meet her there, let her wash my car in practically nothing and then deliver said fuck in abundance all across the hood of my waxed beauty. She called me on that Saturday, a tone in her voice I recognized well, she was horny. "You know, it's such a beautiful day, and I have this unspeakable urge to wash your car. It's so weird too because I was digging around and I just happen to have found this hose. I'll be waiting there in 20 minutes. Catch me if you can." I had hopped in my car after grabbing the wash bucket and topping off the engine. She was right it was a beautiful day, and so hot she'd probably be thankful to get soaking wet toiling over my classic black beauty. I couldn't wait to see her shine, and I wasn't thinking about my car for once. When you hit certain parts of the highway, there's nothing along it, save the rugged sandstone of our hillsides and the brush that sprang up all over it. If there were trees out here they'd offer the merciful shade everyone sought on a day like this, but closer to the coast here the tree line dropped back and thinned out. By now you could smell the phantom scents of the ocean, out of sight but clearly close at hand, carried inland on the breeze. Today it was calm, not too windy, just perfect weather for what she had proposed. I pulled into the last 200 yards at 83 miles per hour, gunned the engine and listened to her roar in satisfaction. She was well tuned, every inch of her, running just as well as she looked. The gas station's rusted sign was within sight and there wasn't another soul for miles. I caught a glimpse of her car parked a mile back along the roadway, tucked into a random soft shoulder. She must have parked there on purpose and walked the mile to the gas station on foot. Good, I thought, she's already worked up a sweat. I could pratically taste the oceanic salt tang of sweat on her skin as I pulled into the gas station a wide left leaving dust clouds behind me as I pulled to a stop. She was lucky I had just cleaned out the interior of my car a few days before, it wouldn't require any inside work today. Just the exterior of my car required her loving touch, now that a fine dust was settling all over it's glossed up exterior. I killed the engine and waited for her entrance. She came slinking out of the shade like an alley cat, slow but deliberately. I could see the sweat just starting to collect below her breasts, it made the white of her tank top sheer and the pink of her skin beneath it visible. The sweat clung to her curls, weighing her ringlets down in a sexy half wet kind of way. Her face shimmered, the fine mist of her persperation gathered on her cheek bones and cast an enchanting glow about her. Her eyes were half closed, heavy lidded from the heat and she looked like she was dreaming. A lazy smirk painted her face, the white of her teeth set off by the rosey blush in her cheeks. "Well hello there, need a wash?" she drawled and dangled the tip of the hose over her crooked finger. "As a matter of fact," I said as I leaned one arm out the side of my car's window, "I really do need a good wash." "I think I might be able to help you out there," She leaned her hip up against the car's side, the denim of her cut offs rested near my arm. "Jesus christ you are hot," I said as I reached up to cup the back of her neck as she bent to kiss me. My hand slid along the soft skin on the nape of her neck, it sent a bolt of lightening straight to my crotch, her lips tasted like sugar and sex. Her tongue slid inside my mouth and carried the taste of rolled tabacco and coffee with it, skimming along the tip of mine leaving me hungry for the depth of her kiss. She teased me, something she had become painfully adept at over the months. Her hips wiggled slightly in the desperate grasp of my other hand, pulling away and breaking the kiss I had just about lost myself in. "Oh goodie," she said as she slipped her hand into the backseat behind me to retrieve the bucket resting there "You brought wax." Her breasts flashed the deep valley of clevage she displayed so easily right into my field of vision and I sat back further into the buttery leather of my bucket seat to admire the view.The skin of her breasts sported the dusty tones of sunset and she mocked the heat of the high summer sun with its generous rosey tint. She stood up, bucket in one hand, hose in the other striking a somewhat defiant pose, her hip jutted out to the side. "Oh would you be a doll and go turn on the hose for me? The spigot is just over there," She teased me in sultry tones motioning the bucket towards it, "I just have to get this beauty wet right now before I burst." I slide my hand along the paneling until I reached the sparkling chrome of the door handle, pulled it up with a slow twist of my wrist and gently swung the heavy door open. She walked backwards seductively, rolling her hips in a suggestive way, watching me as I exited the vehicle and closed the door behind me. I could feel her eyes all over me, tracing my curves like my tires had the road 20 miles behind me. I shut the door behind me and strutted over to the spigot that hid in the sinister shade of the decrepid gas station's overhang. It was rusted and cobwebs hung in delicate lace like patterns between the spaces the gnarled knob left open to their invitation. "Turn her on slow now," she shouted over her shoulder to me as she crimped off the hose in her left hand and emptied the contents of the bucket with her right. I complied, turning the knob slowly, the feeling of it giving way with the hushed hiss of muffled flowing water and the whine of rusted metal. I stole a glance at her over my shoulder, her legs were spread wide, and she was bent over the bucket as she poured the soap into the bottom of it in a long molasses like drizzle. Her heart shaped ass was flexed slighty, the denim taut across it's swell, she was heaven to look at. She rose, standing up straight and turned her head to catch me staring. "Ready to get wet?" she mused as she uncrimped the hose and placed her finger firmly over the gentle trickle it released. The pressure of her finger in its stream quickened its pace around the obstruction, just like my cunt did presented with the same resistance. The water spurted out in a foamy spray rattling inside the bucket, filling in a soapy spiraling motion. I walked back to the car, my swagger exagerated by the 8 inches constricted within my jeans. The heat of the day made me sweat, the garment leather of my harness hugging to the unmistakable feminine curves aided by the sweat and the heat that coursed through my aching pelvis. "Wait, I want a good seat for this show," I said as I hopped over the back door on my Malibu and climbed up on the back. I sat back, leaning on my hands, placed behind me on the trunk of my car, my legs spread feet resting on the leather of the backseat. "Ok," I said all settled, "let her rip hot stuff." Her wry smile spread across her face, as she walked around to the hood of the car, tilting the hose up so that it hurled its contents in a gentle spray glittering in the sunshine and beading up along it's flawless factory lines. She soaked the hood of the car down, then dropped the hose at her feet in the dust, walking over to grab the bucket and sponge. Returning to her position at the head of my car, she bent over it gratuidously, showing off her cleavage and locking her eyes with mine as she cerimoniously soaped up the hood in large slow cirlces.She soaped up the hood of my car the way she teased my breasts, paitently, covering every inch of it with her hands, spreading the bubbles everywhere. She leaned so far over the car to cover every inch, that she rubbed against it, her breasts and stomach becoming wet and soapy themselves. She would watch what effect her ministrations were taking on the hood of the car, only long enough to look up and see what effect she was having on me painted across my face painfully. Her mischevious smile would flash at me, winking, teasing me, before returning to double her efforts in cleaning my car. After all, it had to be clean enough to eat off of when all was said and done. And that was a fact she knew all too well. She finished soaping up the hood and front of the car, releasing all the dirt and dust from its cracks and crevices. Then she retrieved the hose and sprayed it down, sending the soap scattering away from the paint job and onto the dusty gravel below us in quick trickles and slow drops. She grabbed a clean diaper off the windshield and started the hard work of drying off the section she'd just cleaned. Quickly, but throughly her well muscled arms worked in labored circles, catching every left over droplet of moisture and wicking it away with the absorbant cloth. She was careful now, not to let her body touch the car, as it was wet and soapy, her tank top just a flimsy layer of see through frabic showing her skin off and clinging to her curves. Her nipples were hard, even in this oppressive heat, and their dusty pink color showed through the wetness of her top. I wanted to bite them, to lash my tongue across them and rip the sopping top off her, cast into the dusty parking stretch next to abandoned gas pumps, but that would have to wait. She was heading around to the other side of my car, wetting it down as she went, careful not to get a single drop inside the interior. She leaned back on her haunches, legs spread to soap up the side of my car, sure to soap up the hub caps and scrub extra hard on those spots that needed it most. The wetness from rubbing against the car's hood had mixed with her sweat as she toiled. It sent moisture coiling down her thighs in rivulets and spiraled from between her breasts down her stomach to inside her cut offs in ways that I wished I could do the same. I wasn't sure I was going to make it through this torture, but she was certainly enjoying every second of it. Ever the exhibitionist, she adored knowing I was watching her every moment with an ache building steadily in the nexus of my desire. She made no idle chit chat, never spoke a word in my direction, only offering me painful moments of choked silence and startlingly lustful eye contact. She knew all the ways to make go crazy, all the ways to drive me to the point of no return. She wanted it, she was inviting it with every deliberate movement she adopted. She cleared and dried the left of side of the car in record time, leaving it to sparkle as she moved back around the front of the car to the ride side. She knew I was leaning forward to watch her as she soaped up the back driver's side hub cab, the vantage point offering me a delicious view of her wet cleavage. She was soapy and wet and dusty all at the same time and I wanted to fuck her like a rag doll for it. She shot me a slow upwards glance as she returned the soapy sponge to it's bucket home and stretched her arm out like a feline to retrieve the hose. Bent like that near the ground, I could see her mouth slightly parted, the flush in her cheeks, the unmistakable glint of lust in her eyes. And my mind wanted her face to look just like that, looking up at me as she unzipped my fly and freed my cock before I fucked her. Just the thought of her dragging her wet clothed body up over my thighs and stomach as she would stand to kiss me, pumping her curled fist around every hard inch made me go insane with perversity. She was almost done washing now, just the trunk of the car to do, then the wax. But I already knew, I wouldn't be able to make it through the wax job without her at least letting me get my hungry fingers inside her soaking panties. Finished drying the right side of the car, she moved around to the back and I slide inside the backseat, turning to face her as she wet it down with a clean sponge she ran under the hose. Then she did the unthinkable as she filled the sponge again, dropped the hose, and wrung it out over her chest. The water flowed over her curves, carrying away the last bits of soap that clung to her shirt and skin. It revealed more of her pink flesh and made the cover of her shirt absolutely useless, save the way it shrunk to her form highlighting every inch in the most delicious way. "Fuck," I cursed under my breath throaty and deep. She caught the thick swear as soon as it exited my mouth and excited in the effect she had on me. Tossing the sponge aside she lathered up the trunk of the car, going over it with expert attention to detail, making sure to work overtime to bring out the whitest whites of the racing stripes and the chrome trim. She hosed it off gently from the safe vantage point of the back passenger wheel well and set to the task of drying it immediatly with a fresh diaper I tossed her from the backseat. As she finished up the last of it I climbed over the side of the car, careful not to leave fingerprints on the clean she had labored over. I retrieved the can of wax and hid it under the seat of my car. She had finished drying the car and stepped back to admire its sheen, shining like she had painted it with a coat of liquid diamonds and silver. Satisfied she smiled and gave the car a prefuntory nod of a job well done. She walked to the side of the gas station slowly, wetness dripping from her curls and curves in equal abundance. Turning the spigot it whined a metallic protest and the gentle flow from the mouth of the hose slowed to a stop at my feet.She walked back over to where she had left the wax, scanning the ground with a furrowed brow. "Where's the wax at? Did you move it?" I sat on the front passenger side corner of the hood of my car, one foot resting on the bumper. "Forget about the wax for now babe, if we do that right away, we'll never be able to stay on the hood while we're fucking," I said patting my lap, summoning her close to me. She put her hands on her hips, defiant to the last, enjoying every moment of me loosing out in this game of cat and mouse. "But, don't you want her all shiny and slick?" She pouted in response. "If you don't get over here right now and let me fuck you, I swear to god I'm going to cum all over this car just so that you have to wash it again before you get a chance to wax it," my eyebrow cocked as I made the assertion, how could she refuse and offer like that. I knew her, and the joy of vouyerism belonged squarely in my seat, not in hers. If the tables were turned for this little show, she wouldn't have gotten past me washing the hood of the car, she lacked the patience for voyuerism the way I did. But she had put on one hell of a show and I couldn't take it anymore. Conceding to my desire, she smiled as she walked over to me, sliding her hands up either of my thighs to the bulge that strained at my fly. "Oh my, must have liked watching me clean your car, eh?" She taunted me as she rubbed her hands all over my cock through my pants, her wet breasts pressing into mine. I groaned as my head lolled back, my neck arched and exposed as my eyes shut tight, feeling the sensations she sent spilling through me. More of her body pressed against mine as she leaned into me and ran her tongue along the curve of my neck. Goosebumps spread like a wildfire up my arms and thighs, turning my already hardened nipples to fierce points against the wet fabric of her tank top, at once wet and cool a thin layer concealing the heat and humidity of her aroused skin beneath it. She might as well have been steaming in this heat and I wanted to feel the firey embrace of her liquid sex gripping around my tongue.

Music:Do It Well - Moto Blanco Radio Mix