“Still driving.”
“What are the pants made of? Are they that smooth, slippery material they make athletic stuff from?”
I have to clear my throat.
“Yeah.”
“Do you have underwear on, or is your dick rubbing against that material?”
I’m on a straight stretch, so I take my foot off the gas, shove one hand into my pants, and slide my dick through the hole in my boxer briefs so the head is rubbing against the inside of my track pants.
I bite back a groan, because it really shouldn’t feel this good, then force both hands back to the steering wheel.
“Max?”
“Now my dick’s rubbing against it,” I tell her, speeding up again.
“Did you just take your dick outwhile driving?”
“I slowed down. Totally safety-conscious.”
I take another deep breath.
“Worth it, because I’m hard as fuck and it feels really good.”
“I bet it looks good, too. The fabric damp yet?”
“A little. Tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m leaning against my kitchen counter and waiting for you to get home so you don’t crash,” she says.
“I’d rather you were bent over it. In those little shorts, your nipples rubbing against the sweater? God, you look good that way. Ah, fuck.”
I force my hand back to the steering wheel. It had wandered to my dick.
“Was that a sexyah, fuckor an alarmed one?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, call me back when you get home. I can’t have your horny death on my conscience,” she says, and even if I don’t know what she looks like I canhearher rolling her eyes.
“Wait,” I say, scanning the road ahead, then slowing. There’s a dirt road off to one side, and I pull into it, then off to the side. Surrounded by trees and darkness. Hopefully, no one else comes down this road. “Okay. I’m home.”
“Are you?” She is skeptical.
“I’m not driving anymore. Car’s off and everything.”
It’sdarkout here, on a two-lane road through the middle of nowhere. It’s cloudy so the moonlight is weak and diffuse, the trees blocking most of it anyway. I haven’t seen another car in twenty minutes.
“Youswearyou’re not driving,” she says.
“Swear,” I say, unhooking my seatbelt and yanking the parking brake on, just in case. My dick’s straining against my pants, but I don’t touch it yet.
“Are you on the side of the road? Where anyone could see you?”
“There’s no one else here,” I point out.
“But they could. Someone could drive by right now.”
