Illicit affair

I do find that so bloody wonderful! Do you think that when they bolt her on the bonnet they know? Do they know how many people make love in their magnificent cars?

These cars were built for fucking in and my vintage Silver Shadow is no exception.

I drum my fingers on the wheel mimicking the rhythm of the ferocious rain which has suddenly started battering down—somehow heightening my mood of anticipation. Is it the ozone release? Someone mentioned to me once that a sudden downpour carries with it chemicals and aromas that bring life more into focus, making things more acute. Well, I'm feeling that now as I wait for Don.

The creamy leather of the seat is heating nicely under my buttocks, my knickers already slick with my juices, excitement spilling from my chest and pussy it seems. I've been here early, enjoying the lustful anticipation. I've already come twice under my own ministrations in the shower as I took care of my morning ablutions, wanting to be buffed, fresh and absolutely flawless for him.

We'd arranged this clandestine hook up last week when I'd slipped him a handwritten note in the wooden panelled corridors of the official offices where we occasionally encounter each other.

My god, I thought the paper might ignite such was our chemistry as our digits brushed—it was as if touchpaper had been lit—the saltpetre would burn from that moment until now. Everything in my life punctuated by the glow and sizzle of this upcoming meeting.

Oh if they knew! I smile and check the mirrors yet again, preening my perfectly flawless reflection, looking for things to use up some of the seconds that slide by oh so slowly. Lipstick. I take out my Chanel Rouge Allure and apply it yet again, smearing it decadently along my already full red pout. As I do I shift in my seat, rubbing my thighs to grind up against my other yearning lips. Ugh, what he does to me!

He knows exactly. He knows he simply needs to glance my way and I come undone.

It's like a magic spell he casts and I'm gone.

I trail a fingertip from my diamond and sapphire earrings down my neck to my décolleté. The temptation to reach into my lingerie and take my nipple between my thumb and finger is strong but I resist as something catches my attention. My heart thumps, is it him?

The horror that it might not flashes through me, a split second of anxiety only heightening my fervour.

Fuck, yes, it's him! He appears through the harsh spray, his jacket held over his head, somewhat endearingly. My heart lurches again and I throw the door open, urging him to get in quickly while I spring back into my seat, then pounce—taking his head in my hands and kissing him as if he's the last man on earth and I am a hungry, hungry woman.

"Fuck, you came," I say, the words fractured by my frantic kissing. He matches my passion, feasting, devouring and we whimper into each other's mouths. It's a simple animalistic need. Beyond all reason. Impossible to resist.

What if he hadn't come?

I banish the thought, flashback to that little note, imagine if he'd dropped it, or someone else had found it, someone, who could ruin everything for us…

We've never shared our phone numbers. Not once—heavy cartridge paper and fountain pen, green ink, our only communication to arrange this illicit affair.

It's so joyously old fashioned. I just adore it. I reach into his trousers and pull out his substantial cock, already hard, and imagine him shifting in his own driver's seat on the way here, adjusting his position to accommodate his rising need. The thought sends a frisson of electricity from the back of my neck straight to my clit and my mouth waters for his taste.

"Mmmm," is all I can manage and I dive onto his delicious uncut dick. I roll his meaty flesh up and down, peeling it back over his shining beautiful head before leaning in to flick my tongue over it. He groans and grabs a fistful of my hair, pushing me onto him just the way I love him to.

Yes yes, my grunts and sighs are muffled by his cock ramming deep into the back of my mouth, nudging at my throat. I open up and swallow him down, dampening my gag reflex as I gobble him hard, my pussy convulsing and desperate for touch.

He obliges as if reading my mind, reaching over to my bottom which I tilt up and wiggle in invitation.

Ahhh, yes, he slides his fingers into the side of my panties and rubs as my swollen need, dipping the tips of his digits into my wanton hole and smearing my juices around as I fuck him with my mouth, harder and harder, consumed with the desire to choke on him, take him deeper.

I bear down one last time and release, wiping my face with the back of my hand and smiling wildly at him. He smiles back, his expression full of the same rapture as I.

I turn and try to be graceful as I make my way to the backseats between the front but he traps me there, lifting my skirt over my buttocks and plunges his face between.

He goes to work, thrusting his tongue deep inside my dripping pussy, lapping up my juices, piercing into my clutching hole. It's complete wanton abandon and I'm so fucking ready for it. He buries his face between my ass cheeks and fucks my cunt with his face, sucking licking, probing and I'm almost gone… almost. But I want more, I want him to be balls deep in my aching pussy. I want to watch as he impales me over and over again with that sweet dick of his.

I clamber off and through to the rear, swinging around and spreading my legs wide for him to take up the position between my thighs.

The way he drinks me in with his eyes, a thirsty man and my glass is brimming for him. I remember the very first time I saw that look. You know the one, you can always tell when a man will be fantasising about you later as he takes himself in hand.

I was sitting in the long corridor waiting to be called into court. Checking the papers in my briefcase I glanced up to see him sitting a few benches down, staring at me in that slack-jawed way that signals he's got one thing on his mind. Luckily he hadn't noticed I'd seen him watching, so I carefully stowed my paperwork and slid the case on the chair beside me. I smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in my stocking from the little square of the Cuban heel, all the way up my ankle, wrapping my manicured fingers with their scarlet nails seductively around my shins and calves, extending and flexing my foot, pretending to be completely absorbed in my task.

I know how to get a man's attention. When I got to just above my knee, I tucked my finger under the hem of my skirt and pulled it up just the tiniest hint. Heat was gathering between my thighs as I secretly seduced him in the busy corridor. I dipped my head forward letting my hair fall to obscure my face so I could chance another quick glance.

Shit.

He caught me looking!

Ha, oh well, he knew exactly what I was up to, I could tell by the way he smiled right at me, cocking his eyebrow and taking me in from my sheepish grin all the way down to my wrinkle-free ankle.

It was then he pulled out his court notebook and wrote the very first message, dropping it casually onto my lap as he passed me with his client on the way to his case.

I was shaking with pure adrenalin and excitement as I opened it.

51A was all it said in the lush deep green ink, same shade as I use myself.

I could feel heat and colour rise in my cheeks and a dampening under my arms. Damn, there'd be a stain on the silk.

I knew what the number meant—it was his locker. Just like a schooltime dalliance, we were going to communicate like this were we?

I loved it.

I wrote my first note, with simply a time and a place, signed with my own locker number, 28C.

It had been fast, furious, exhilarating. That lunchtime around the porters' entrance behind the air conditioning units, we'd fucked quickly up against the wall. It had felt deliciously sordid. I'd taken off my knickers beforehand, stuffing them into his hand after we'd finished—a token to remind him of this moment. I'd come hard around his cock, hips bucking, my shirt riding up and the rough bricks grazing my back. It was so exciting.

When I glanced around in the library that afternoon, he was over the other side of the room and we caught each other's eye. He lifted the scrap of lace and silk he'd pulled from his pocket and held it to his mouth and nose, inhaling my scent right there surrounded by our colleagues. I twisted my chair and slid my thighs apart, daring him to take a glimpse at my fuck happy pussy.

He did.

Of course, he did. He smiled wickedly rolling his eyes in a resigned way before pushing back his seat and leaving. He was discreet but I could just make out the bulge rising in his trousers.

And so began our sordid illicit affair. We literally know nothing more about each other, apart from we have chemistry and love to fuck.

We, that's not quite true, I have no idea if he's looked me up on the system, it wouldn't be hard, I just have no desire to know anything about him apart from how we connect.

The thrill of opening my locker every morning and afternoon, the anticipation of perhaps finding a new note in there is at times unbearable. It's like we've begun to tease each other, who will be the first to break and give a time and date. It was me this time—it had been four days and I could barely concentrate, my pussy was on fire, dripping and he was all I could think about—filling me up, taking his lustful pleasures. We'd quickly elevated our sex areas from the alleyway preferring now to meet for a fuck in either of our cars.

Today, it's mine, which I love best. So much space, so much leather to get lost in. I tip my hips up, urging him to eat me again, I lift my leg right up, my glistening pussy in full view and he dips down to worship my clit with his mouth.

Oh my god, his clever long tongue, alternating between flicking my clit mercilessly and licking lusciously around the entrance of my twitching vagina. He's so fucking good at this. Just when I feel I need more, he darts the pointed strong tip of his tongue right into me, lathing me, lapping me up then replaces it with two thick fingers, fucking me savagely while I unravel and shriek out in sheer sexual abandon.

Yes, yes, that's it, that's it, harder…

I wind my hands into his hair, gripping his face to my cunt, fucking and jerking onto him.

Just as I'm about to come he pulls away and we switch positions again, this time I'm on top. I'll show him for cutting my climax short!

I glide above his naked body, his rigid cock stands to attention and I position my desperate cunt over his head, pausing slightly to look him in the eye. We smile and I reach down to adjust his cock, letting it settle at my entrance, waiting for the stretch then I slide down his full length and ride him hard. It's glorious and I undulate my hips and pelvis, rubbing my clit on his pubic bone, building my pleasure as he takes his.

I'm hot and want to fuck his brains out, own him, take him, use him for my pleasure.

I'm aware the rain has stopped and have a flash of self-consciousness as my whimpers carry off into the surrounding trees, anyone could hear them and be drawn to us—to watch. Like a siren's call, that desperation that no one can resist. A damsel in distress, but it's not distress—it's the throes of lustful passion and I'm fucking loving, it. Bring it, come to me, come to us, watch us. Images of men and women surrounding the car, cocks, pussies in hand, pumping out their orgasms in rhythm with ours has me bucking in a frenzy of pure white-hot abandon. I ride and hump and grind until I'm juddering and shunting out my climax all over his heavy thick dick.

There is a beautiful moment of absolute serenity as pure sensation washes through me from the top of my head out through my dripping sated pussy. I'm euphoric. It's the only word for it.

I clamber off him as gracefully as I can and squeeze down low to take his cock in my mouth again, tasting our shared flavours as I lick and suck him, pulling him deep and grasping his shaft in one hand. He really is a glorious fuck and I enjoy bringing him to his own delicious climax. I suckle him hard until his sweet liquor pumps into my throat and I swallow it down greedily.

I smile up at him aware my hair has come loose and we're both dishevelled and panting. It's so hot. My favourite part. Naughtily dragging our clothes back over our sweating panting bodies, trying hard to disguise what has just passed between us when there's no hiding the aura and scent of sex that must be coming off us in waves. Our chemistry alone must be enough for people to notice the fire that burns between us.

I twist my arms into my blouse with a little help from him. Noticing that, damn, I've got lipstick all over it. It's wrinkled and damp and I pull it on leaving my breasts free of my bra. I'm sure he won't mind catching a glimpse of them as they quiver and bounce unencumbered by restrictive lingerie. I know I certainly won't mind the sensation of my nipples brushing up against the silk, beading beneath my blouse and suit jacket, which will have to stay on for the rest of the day, no matter how heated the courtroom gets this afternoon.

We share a giggle as he drags his own clothes on, lifting his hips to pull his belt through the loops. It's endearing and hilarious and I shoo him out of the car, motioning him to be gone—we'll be late.

He obeys, but not before giving me a short sharp slap on the bottom as I climb through into the driver's seat where I right my lipstick in the rear-view mirror.

He reaches over to kiss me and then gets out kissing me again through my driver's window. I hurriedly pass his rain-soaked jacket and start the engine.

Spirit of Ecstasy indeed.

I watch him depart and sort myself as best I can.

I remember that I always keep a spare blouse in my locker, so when I return to work I go straight there to get my change of clothing. Of course, that familiar surge of excitement rises as I punch in the combination—wondering if he's visited already. Of course not, it had only been half an hour and we sometimes wait for days to meet, who am I kidding. I open the door reaching to my freshly hung shirt and a piece of paper flutters to the floor.

A frisson of electricity buzzes through me as I dip down in my heels to pick it up as casually as I can, trying not to give away my absolutely giddy excitement. I grab my shirt and swiftly stride to the ladies, feeling as if I could float there. I dart into a stall and sit trembling on the toilet seat. I open the folded note, amazed that he'd want to fuck again so quickly, to be honest, it had been quite the raunchy affair today and I'm almost feeling the same… almost… My raw pussy could do with a break but I do love the anticipation so.

When I unfold the paper I am quite overcome. It's not what I had been expecting at all.

Dinner? Tonight? Savoy, 8pm…

I smile and slip the note into my bag as I arrange my clothing, putting my bra back on and sliding into my fresh blouse. Well, my my, here's me thinking a quickie affair was what we were after.

I lift out my notebook and pen and write out my reply in my best cursive script.