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It’s been said that necessity is the mother of invention. I sometimes wonder if the automobile wasn’t built entirely for transportation, but also to get couples out of the way so they could find someplace more private to fool around.
In my younger years, post high-school, I was living at home and running around the city with varied friends of mine. One night, a group of us had gone to an all-night restaurant, heavily populated with high-schoolers and folks a couple of years out. This is where I first seriously laid eyes on Christine.
Christine (or Chrissy to some friends) was a statuesque girl with medium brown hair — not that rich dark shade, but not light. Blue eyes, a nice smile, an athletic body, and a set of D cup breasts that made many guys turn and look at her. I’d known of her when I was a senior in high school; years later, I did a double-take when she came in with a friend and sat down in the booth next to mine.
Our table and hers chatted back and forth between ordering food and eating, and at one point, Chrissy threw an empty pack of cigarettes at my head in an attempt to be funny. I threw it back at her with the comment, “Maybe you should put your phone number on it if you’re going to throw it at me.”
It came sailing back about a minute later, with her phone number written inside the flip-top. Sometimes, I’m simply amazed at what works and what doesn’t.
* * *
I called Chrissy the next afternoon, being an incredibly horny young man, and she took me up on the offer of going out that evening. Seeing as how she was 19 and I was 20, we didn’t have much chance of going out drinking — that hadn’t even crossed our minds. Instead, we opted for going to get coffee at a local cafe downtown, spending the evening talking and reminiscing over stupid high school shit that folks will reminisce over.
The cafe closed at midnight, and we headed back to her car, a Dodge Omni-type hatchback. It was something like an Omni, if memory serves correctly. I’m very sure it was a hatchback, but we’ll get to that later.
We got in the car and started driving, beginning the age-old ritual of joyriding and smoking cigarettes. We tooled around the city and the surrounding suburbs, enjoying each other’s company and the music on the radio, with the occasional hand on the other person’s leg. Nothing too risque at this point.
Our bostancı escort bayan travels finally brought us to the lake, and to the beach. The beachfront area in my city is somewhat developed, with a few shops and a sprawling park, as well as restaurants and an ice cream parlor. That night, there were only a few cars in the local parking lot as we made our way over to a remote corner of the lot and turned the car off.
Chrissy and I talked for a little bit; I couldn’t even tell you what it was about, given how long ago it was. I finally got the nerve to see what would happen, and leaned in with a kiss. She kissed me back, and it was warm and wonderful. We made out for a few minutes, with me occasionally squeezing one of her boobs through her shirt. She smelled heavenly, and it was indescribable to bite her neck. That’s a taste, as silly as this sounds, that you can’t really experience too many times in your life.
The concept of getting caught by anyone went right out the window as I unsnapped her jeans and she lifted her ass to allow me passage to her. I slid my hand into the front of her panties and found her to be soaked. Without hesitation, I slid two fingers into her, deep, getting a moan of satisfaction as the okay to continue. I fingered her deep, playing with her clit every so often, wanting to keep her going but not to make her cum…yet.
She had her head over my left shoulder when she whispered, “I think we have to go.” I pulled back and looked at her as she looked at me, then past me. I turned to see a carload of guys about two spots over, giving me the thumbs-up.
I grinned at them as I said, “Let’s jet” through my smile. Bastards. Thanks so much, guys. At this point, I’d figured I had no chance of getting much else out of this evening. Chrissy, however, had not fixed herself yet, and must have already been coming up with Plan B.
“Where should we go?” she asked as she pulled out of the parking lot. I scanned the area quickly, trying to find another safe haven from locals where I could run wild with this chick. I saw the local ice cream shop, with a small alcove of parking lot behind it.
“There,” I said, “Behind the ice cream joint. We should be fine if you pull in there and turn the lights off.” Chrissy drove a bit and pulled in behind the parlor, turned off the lights, and waited anxiously ümraniye escort as I stared around the vicinity. No one had followed us; no one had spotted us. We were safe.
She looked at me and smiled. “Let’s get in the back.” Oh, honey, you’re reading my mind. We climbed into the backseat of her hatchback, instantly cramped due to the fact that…it was a hatchback. With my being roughly 6 feet tall, and Chrissy at 5’9″, this was going to make for an interesting bit of fun.
I laid down on my back, only to find that I couldn’t lay flat. Chrissy had left a basketball in the back of her car, and with all the crap that was back there with us, I couldn’t exactly move it. She yanked my jeans and boxers down, exposing my stiff cock to the air. “Hello,” she said, and took me in her mouth. Hello, indeed!
She came up for a breath, and slid her jeans and panties off one leg, leaving them down around her right ankle. I didn’t even bother analyzing what it was she was doing; she simply positioned herself over me and guided me in. And oh, it was worth all this bullshit. She felt sublime. Warm, soft — the softest I’d felt in ages — and she enjoyed it. It wasn’t like some girls who just went through the motions. Chrissy was having FUN.
She leaned over me, hair dangling from all sides of her head, and kissed me deep as I reached under her shirt and got at those breasts of hers. I never saw them that night, but I felt them — large, full but not overly firm, and perfect. Nothing could go wrong. It was wonderful to be young, wonderful to be fucking, wonderful to be visualizing colors on the inside of the car, reds and blues…
…wait a minute.
“Chrissy,” I said, “Look up.” Chrissy kept kissing my face, so I said it again.
“CHRISSY. LOOK. UP.” She came up from me and looked out the back window of the hatchback, mouthing “oh fuck” instantly. Those reds and blues were police cruiser lights. I figured nothing bad could really happen — we were both of age, and I couldn’t see having a hard time with indecent exposure charges.
A policeman walked along the driver’s side of the car, rapping on the window that was rolled down about an inch to give us some fresh air. “Is everything okay in there?”
“Yes, officer,” Chrissy responded.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked back. Is she okay? Here I am, lying on my back escort kartal with the basketball at least out from under me, in a hatchback — and she’s straddling me. Is she okay?
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said smiling.
“Okay,” said the policeman, obviously a little embarassed (though I’d guess he’d seen it before), “You two have to get out of here. Go on, take it home.” He walked back to his car and pulled away as we lay there, waiting. Once he’d gone, we struggled in the back seat to get clothed again, and Chrissy hopped into the front to drive us out of there. I stayed in the back, figuring that now it was blown.
* * *
We pulled into my driveway about twenty minutes later, playing Tool and having a disagreement over what some of the lyrics were. It was a clear night, roughly 2 in the morning now, and we’d had so much fun already — even if neither one of us had come yet.
She turned off the car and craned her neck to look at me. “Should I come back there?”
I figured my mom would be asleep. “Sure, there’s room, I think.” Chrissy wriggled back there and we both lay on the folded-down seat, our heads pointing to the back of the car, looking up at the stars. I rolled over a bit to look at her, and she did the same with me. We kissed, and I gently cupped the crotch of her jeans with my hand, putting the tiniest bit of pressure where I suspected her clit would be.
She kissed me deep, quickly, and went for my dick again. I felt her fumbling with the zipper, and that’s when I heard the engine. Chrissy stopped cold. “What,” she said, “is THAT?”
I peeked my head up and looked to the street. Two guys driving a garbage truck had parked on the street, definitely within view of Chrissy’s car. I’m no genius, but these guys had to have seen us in the hatchback, and were waiting to see what was going on. We couldn’t catch a break.
I looked at her. “I’m sorry.” She smiled a little smile at me and sat up as best she could.
“It happens. Trust me, we’ll figure something out.”
We both got out of the car that night, unsatisfied, but at least happy with the progress we’d made. I watched her drive away as I let myself into the house, and as I walked inside, I let my hand drift past my nose, inhaling her scent, enjoying how wonderful she’d been.
* * *
I hope you enjoyed this story — like the others, they are true. Unfortunately, this really is how it went; we couldn’t catch a break that night. I’m sorry that the story didn’t reach a “climax,” but rest assured that Chrissy and I did make future plans, which will be documented later for your enjoyment.
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