The Beautiful Kind

My beau and I were on a road trip, and had been driving for hours.

“I’m bored!” I announced. “Can I give you road head or something?”

He laughed. “Why don’t you play with yourself?”

I considered this. I was funky down there, but what the hell. “OK.”

As I reached into my shorts, I grumbled, “Dammit, I wish I had my Pocket Rocket with me.” I had taken it out of my purse the last time I flew, and had forgotten to put it back. Hence, I was forced to diddle myself the old-fashioned way.

I started to finger myself, and he tried to reach down there, but I batted him away. “No way, I’m too funky right now. This is a job for experts.”

So instead he drove with one hand and used the other to firmly grope my upper body - he ran his hand over my shoulders, my neck, grabbed my chin, covered my face, reached rudely into my shirt and bra to paw at my tits.

The attention felt wonderful, and allowed me to escape into my fantasy as truck drivers whizzed by.

It took me about twenty minutes to get off. GOD it felt good. * Sigh * …

But dammit, what was I supposed to do with my stinkfinger? We didn’t have any Handi-Wipes in the car.

I held my dirty hand up helplessly as I looked around for something to clean it with.

Finally I resorted to taking the bottled water, rolling down the window and pouring it on my fingers.

PWAH

All the funky pussy water blew back in my face, and my guy laughed his ass off.