Written by Southlander

BDSM
6/03/2017


It’s raining, by the monsoon bucket full

It’s cold and downright miserable.

We’re on the road, to Oamaru, from Dunedin, for your weekend shift in the family business.

We turn onto the coastal section of state highway 1, at Blueskin Bay, and a wet hand protrudes from a rain coat, thumb in the air.

Normally I don’t stop for hitchhikers when I have company in the car, but I decide to take pity on this wet, wretched specimen, gender unknown, standing in the gloom.

“Where are you heading” I ask.

“Christchurch”, came the reply, from a distinctly male Voice, with a thick French accent.

“I can take you as far as Oamaru, But you have to take your wet gear off before you get in.

I don’t want water all through my car”.

“Merci’ beaucoup” he replied as I popped the boot for him to stow his backpack and wet jacket.

His jumper and shirt were soaked as well, so he peeled them off and got in the back seat in his jeans and close fitting white t shirt.

You noticed right away.

His muscled chest and arms. His toned face and blond hair.

His slightly damp t-shirt stuck to him, accentuating his impressive chest and abs, and you began to realise that in the back seat of our car sat a very sexy, 20’s something Frenchman.

You look at me, with rapidly damping thighs, and a look of desire, nay, Lust in your sexy eyes.

With a nod, I give my approval, and in a flash you are sitting beside him in the back seat.

“Qu’est – ce que ces’t” ? he asks with enquiring eyes.

A little comfort for the trip I explain.

With that, you reach down to unbutton his jeans, and reach in and find his rapidly hardening member.

Growing, inch by inch before your eyes, until it reaches its impressive full size, As you begin to gush fluid from your loins in anticipation.

He lays back in the seat, as you lean forward to lick, and suck, the tip of his now rock hard cock.

A gentle moan escapes his lips as you take him in your velvet smooth mouth, and slowly down your throat.

Working him with your lips.

Up and Down.

Up and Down,

Until his breathing becomes rapid, and his hips start thrusting his cock forward, fucking into your mouth.

Watching from the rear view mirror, “Stop”! I say, just as he was about to explode his cum down your throat.

“Present yourself to him”

You reluctantly let his cock slide out of your mouth, and spin round so you are facing forward, holding onto the back of the front seat.

You lift your skirt, and remove your panties.

Sliding them over your heels and throwing them over to me.

I bring them to my nose and smell your arousal.

It’s intense.

“Hold yourself open for him I command”, and you spread your cheeks with your hands, revealing your wet folds, and delicate rose bud.

He groans and slides forward in his seat, pulling you back down on him,

On his hard cock,

Sliding balls deep into your pussy in one, hard, thrust.

He pushes you forward, and pulls you back, forcing you to fuck his cock.

You need no forcing.

His tempo builds, and so does yours.

Until you’re both sweating heavily from the exertion of fucking in the back seat of a car.

A truck overtakes slowly, the driver looking intently at the action going on below.

You catch his eye and smile. A wanton smile.

He honks his horn and drives by.

Suddenly your French boy stops, and looks enquiringly over at me.

“You are not joining in”? he asks, in his sexy, heavy accent.

Why not, I think, and pull over to park in a rest area just out of Hamden.

As I climb into the back, he spins you round so you are on all fours along the seat, with him behind you and me in front.

He begins a slow grind into your pussy while you unzip me and reach into to find your masters prize.

You wrap lips around my cock and suck it down your throat, as your Frenchman slides in and out from behind.

Soon you are being forced backwards and forwards as we thrust in tempo with each other.

One fucking your pussy. One fucking your mouth.

You are being spit roasted. With a cock in each end.

Soon your breath becomes ragged, strained, while you are moaning, begging for release.

His pace is quickening, more urgent, and with an almighty roar he spews his cum, his bucket load of cum, all over the creamy walls of your cervix.

His groans have the desired effect on me, and with a grunt I paint your throat with my seed, just as you shudder through your intense orgasm.

We collapse into a heap of sweat covered bodies, basking in the afterglow of amazing sex, dozing into dreamland.

Woken only when a curious policeman bangs on the window.

You are late for work.


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