Enjoying it to the point of being unable to stop

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

He's a man who's become a thing of the past in my mind and life. Now, recalling our first experience of having sex in a car, and calmly filtering it through my brainwaves before putting it into words, feels like... like dreaming of running naked, waking up and quickly checking if anyone's around. So, thank you to the editor for the length of censorship.

That time was actually premeditated. The reason is simple: I'd never done it before, and I was eager to have a big "battle."

I was rushing to catch the high-speed train, and he drove me there. We gave each other half an hour (truly the shortest time we've ever spent together). After arriving at the underground parking lot, we drove around several times, trying to find the best spot. Something secluded, less crowded, and not a direct route to the exit.

After parking, we immediately rolled into the back seat. There was absolutely no romantic foreplay; we took off our clothes ourselves. It was winter then, and when he saw my red thermal underwear, he didn't even get aroused. I think this is true love.

After we undressed, we immediately and naturally struck our usual poses. No discussion, no guidance, it was a perfect, unspoken understanding.

He sat, and I faced him on top. He was wet without any teasing (this was one of the reasons he was so obsessed with me), and I smoothly inserted myself. He was a little nervous because people might pass by outside, so he tried to hang a piece of clothing between the two seats in front of him. Perhaps for this reason, he wasn't as hard as usual, but even with his usual strength, he was still far superior to most men. Seeing his

unusually shy expression only fueled my arousal. At that moment, it felt like I was raping him. I slid up and down to find his G-spot, but because the car wasn't high, my movements weren't very pronounced. He looked at my flirtatious antics and gave me a look that seemed to want to devour me whole.

Basically, whenever someone approached our car, he would stop, wait until they were out of sight, and then resume his act of enjoyment, repeating this process over and over. I was worried he'd soften due to nervousness, so I started arousing his visual senses, making a wanton expression like a prostitute in an adult film while self-pleasuring my clitoris. I orgasmed quickly.

It proved I'd succeeded sexually again; he was incredibly aroused, both physically and mentally. While I was masturbating, he was recording it on his phone, and afterwards said, "I'll rely on this for the rest of my life," which was the highest level of praise. To

sum up this car sex experience in one sentence…

it was like listening to a beloved but clunky cassette tape from the 80s or 90s—a rapture for your ears, yet you couldn't stop.

[The End]

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Enjoying it to the point of being unable to stop

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