We are speeding along the two lane paved road which is flanked by dry grassy fields and quiet groves of bare deciduous trees. Blurring anonymously through a brown and gray still life. The cold wind hisses in through the barely open sunroof and a Queen classic pounds out of the speakers. Gasoline fumes faintly poison our fresh air but it’s intoxicating. I lay my left hand on his right thigh and wait while we accelerate uphill, the force of the car’s acceleration pressing me steadily backward into the curvy seat. Through his pants, I can trace one finger along the unseen hem of his boxers. Once we reach about 4800 RPMs, his leg flexes for the trade of gas for clutch and rapidly back again, and we’re off as if before we’d been sitting still..
My spine melts into the seat and watch him command the vehicle. I am such a goner.
Dreamy. 🙂
Isn’t it nice that our husbands can make us feel that way (still). We were at the grocery store yesterday and I looked over at him in his leather jacket and faded jeans and thought “oh my, I’d like to get to know him”.
Have a great day, my friend.
Whipped, my dear. You are truly whipped. 😉
That is so wonderfully sensual! 🙂
for sure. But sometimes it is the best thing to lost yourself, even if just for a moment, or a couple of moments…