Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Morning Delight (MF, romance)
Date: 8 Oct 1995 06:05:58 GMT

			   The Morning Rush

	You remember, don't you, the other morning when you were
driving me to work through the morning rush hour. You were wearing a
summer dress, which was resting just above your knees. You looked so
sexy sitting there watching the traffic. You remember, we had made
love the previous night, we were talking about it, how we would build
it up, and then hold it back, enhancing the thrill for both of us. I
reminded you of the explosive joy of our final climax as we exploded
together in each other's arms. As we talked, and relived in our minds
the thrills we had made the previous night, we both became aroused by
the conversation.

	I curled up my index finger, lightly brushed your cheek, and
ran the back of my finger like a feather down your neck. I know it
sent a tingle through your body, because you shuddered, and glanced at
me with your perfect smile. I can recall feeling the sensations in my
hand as it continued its journey of exploration, down across your
breast, stopping to feel the wonderful sensation of your nipple
sampled softly through the thin material of your summer dress. As it
crossed your nipple, a tingling sensation like a pleasant electric
shock ran from the back of my hand up my arm, and down to the end of
my penis.

	Remember it now. Relive the moment in your fantasy.

				* * *

	My fingernail takes a few turns around your nipple, and then I
take it between two fingers and twirl it a little. I reach across, to
your other breast, and let my fingertip sense the dark and sensitive
area around its nipple. The slight bumpiness tickles my fingertip
through your dress, and I take your nipple between two fingers to
explore its shape and texture. Your shoulders shrug forward,
involuntarily at the pleasure of my touch.

	The traffic is moving slowly, stop and start. A car horn
blows. My hand comes to rest on your knee, and I can feel the silky
smooth warmth of your leg. Slowly, tantalising, my hand creeps up the
outside of your thigh, taking the material of your dress with it as it
goes. This is not the first time, so you know what I am going to do.
You help me get your dress up further by lifting your bum so the
material slides away right up to the edge of your panties. I can just
feel their edge at the top of your leg. A delicious glowing ache is
growing in your abdomen, and you can feel your moisture beginning to
moisten your panties.

	I follow the slightly cool and smooth edge of your panties up
across your hip, and down the inside. My fingers brush lightly across
the side of your pubic mound, and you gasp. The ache grows stronger,
and begins to feel more like a burning sensation. You concentrate on
the joy you are feeling, until the car behind hoots to remind you to
move on.

	I follow the edge of your panties until I am over you warm,
soft lips. Pressing into the material, I can feel your silky wetness
coming through. Your legs part just a little, but it is enough for me
to get the full feel of your vaginal opening. Slowly, deliberately, I
move my fingers up and down across your lips, enjoying their warmth,
and the silky feel of the wet material.

	Your legs tense. I can feel the tension building up inside of
you. You want my fingers on your clitoris, but not yet. I want you
really hot before I let you come, so I softly take one of your lips
between two fingers, through the material of your wet panties, and
slide it around a bit. The faint roughness of the cloth enhances the
sensation, and I do the same to the other lip.

	I lift the edge of your panties slightly, and allow one of my
fingers to touch your wet skin, but I stay outside of your lips, and
gently caress the fold of skin at the side of your crotch. Moving back
across your lips, I let one finger slip inside of you just a little,
but the angle is all wrong. Still the sensation of something slipping
inside of you is one I know you enjoy, so I let it stay for a moment
or two. You can feel it pressing against your vaginal wall, just
inside, below where your clitoris is, where it feels so nice to be
pressed.

	The traffic surges forward, and with my free hand, I turn up
the Celine Dion track playing on the radio. My finger brushes up
across the hood of your clitoris, and you let out a soft moan of
pleasure. The burning waves are tingling their way from your clitoris
up into your nipples, and I know this. If we weren't in the car, I
would lean across your breasts and draw each nipple into my mouth in
turn, but that is impossible here.

	My penis is straining at the material of my jeans, and there
is a burning sensation running from its glans, down the shaft, and
turning to a dull ache in my testicles. It's head is wet with
lubricating fluid, and it is ready to penetrate you, but of course it
is impossible in the car. I ignore the pleasurable sensations I am
feeling down there, and continue focusing on your pleasure, for this
is your show.

	I let my finger move down slightly, so that it peeks in
between your lips, moves up under your clitoral hood, and brushes
softly against your bare clitoris. Your legs are so tense, I am afraid
that the car will surge forward into the back of the car in front of
us. But you seem to be in control of the car, if not of your own body.

	I move my finger up to the hood of your clitoris, and slowly I
begin a rhythmic movement, back and forth. I begin talking to you.
Reminding you of what we did last night, telling you how beautiful
your face is when you are coming. I increase the pressure slightly,
but maintain the rhythm of back and forth movement across your
clitoris and lower pubic mound.

	I can feel you tense, and your breathing become irregular.
Your eyes begin to water, but you keep your attention on the road in
front of us. The tension builds, and my rhythmic movements are
translated into waves of pleasure that grow in intensity, and wash
over more and more of your beautiful, aroused body.

	I notice the small things. Your hands clench the steering
wheel more tightly. Your nostrils flare wider, your eyes become more
liquid, and your nipples strain at the thin material of your dress.
The muscles in your legs tense, and twitch. Your right shoulder shakes
a little. I know that you are close, so I decide to let it happen.

	I increase the pressure ever so slightly, not making to make
it too hard. You gasp as the waves come closer and closer together, as
my fingers continue their rhythmic movements, until finally the waves
merge into one and you explode into an orgasm that is intensified by
the need to struggle to keep control of the car. You want to close
your eyes, but you can't, and the tears of pleasure run down your
cheeks as you concentrate your internal attention on keeping the
orgasm going as long as you can.

	When I sense that you have almost reached the point where the
sensations cease to be pleasurable for you, so I slowly stop moving
your clitoris, and leave my hand between your legs for just a few
moments. We don't talk. There is no need to talk. We are lovers. We
understand one another, and we have just talked the language of love.
Tonight, tomorrow, or another time, you will see to my burning, hard
penis. This morning, this was my treat just for you.