You remember, don't you, that morning when you were driving me to work through the morning rush hour in your new car? 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.

“That was an amazing orgasm,” you said. “I love it when I cum that hard.”

“Yes, watching you cum hard makes me also cum hard,” I said.

“Probably it was because we were both so aroused all day,” you replied.

“Well, those text and voice messages we exchange were good for that,” I said.

“Yea,” you said. “I got a flash of tingles and wetness with every message.”

“We make a good team,” I replied.

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.

“That tingled,” you said with a 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 cock.

Remember it now. Relive the moment in your fantasy.

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

“What are you trying to do?” you asked, knowing the answer very well.

“I am going to make you cum before we get to work,” I said.

You just sighed.

“We are going to be late,” you said.

“Well, we are late anyway, you may as well have an orgasm,” I said.

“Good point,” you replied.

The traffic was moving slowly, stop and start. A car horn sounded. My hand came to rest on your knee, and I could feel the silky smooth warmth of your leg. Slowly, tantalising, my hand crept up the outside of your thigh, taking the material of your dress with it as it went.

This was not the first time, so you knew what I was going to do.

“You are making a habit of this,” you said. “I’m not complaining though.”

You helped me get your dress up further by lifting your bum a little so the material slid away right up to the edge of your panties. I could just feel their edge at the top of your leg. A delicious glowing ache started to grow in your abdomen, and you could already feel your wetness beginning to moisten your panties.

“You made me wet,” you said, smiling at me.

“I want you soaking your panties,” is smiled back.

“Getting there,” you replied.

I followed the slightly cool and smooth edge of your panties up across your hip and down the inside. My fingers brushed lightly across the side of your pubic mound, and you gasped. The ache grew stronger, and began to feel more like a burning sensation. You concentrated on the joy you were feeling until the car behind hooted to remind you to move on.

I followed the edge of your panties until I was over your warm, soft lips. Pressing into the material, I could feel your silky wetness coming through. Your legs parted just a little, but it was enough for me to get the full feel of your opening. Slowly, deliberately, I moved my fingers up and down across your lips, enjoying their warmth, and the silky feel of the wet material.

“Yes, indeed you are wet,” I said.

“Mmm, you made it wet there,” you replied.

Your legs tensed. I could feel the tension building up inside of you.

“Finger me,” you mumbled.

You wanted my fingers on your clitoris, but not yet.

“I want you really hot before I let you come,” I replied.

I softly took one of your lips between two fingers, through the material of your wet panties, and slid it around a bit. The faint roughness of the cloth enhanced the sensation, and I did the same to the other lip.

I lifted the edge of your panties slightly and allowed one of my fingers to touch your wet skin, but I stayed outside of your lips and gently caressed 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 was all wrong. Still, the sensation of something slipping inside of you was one I knew you enjoy, so I let it stay for a moment or two. You could feel it pressing against your pussy wall, just inside, below where your clitoris is, where it feels so nice to be pressed.

“I love this feeling,” you said, knowing I like you to tell me how it feels.

The traffic surged forward, and with my free hand, I turned up the Celine Dion track playing on the radio. My finger brushed up across the hood of your clitoris, and you let out a soft moan of pleasure. The burning waves were tingling their way from your clitoris up into your nipples, and I knew this. If we weren’t in the car, I would have leaned across your breasts and drawn each nipple into my mouth in turn, but that was impossible where we were.

I took my fingers away momentarily to enjoy the scent of your arousal on them. I let you smell.

“I am going to smell like cum at work,” you said.

“I am going to keep your scent on my fingers for as long as I can,” I replied.

My cock was straining at the material of my jeans, and there was a burning sensation running from its glans, down the shaft, and turning to a dull ache in my testicles. Its head was wet with lubricating fluid, and it was ready to penetrate you, but of course, it was impossible in the car. I ignored the pleasurable sensations I was feeling down there and continued focusing on your pleasure, for this was your show.

“I love making you feel nice,” I said. “Like, a lot.”

“It is kind of hot in the car,” you replied.

“Shall I put on the air con?” I asked with a smile.

“Not that kind of hot,” you said in all seriousness.

I let my finger move down slightly, so that it peeked in between your pussy lips, then moved it up by your clitoral hood, and brushed it very softly against your bare clitoris. Your legs were so tense, I was afraid that the car would surge forward into the back of the car in front of us. But you seemed to be in control of the car, if not of your own body.

“Please don’t stop,” you said, making sure I continued what I was doing.

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

I switched to a circular motion, pressing against your clitoris, down one side, across it, up the other, and over the top – going round and round and varying the pressure while keeping a rhythm.

“Yes, like that,” you moaned. “Keep doing it or I will kill you.”

I could feel you tense, and your breathing became irregular. Your eyes began to water, but you kept your attention on the road in front of us. The tension built, and my rhythmic movements were translated into waves of pleasure that grew in intensity and washed over more and more of your beautiful, aroused body.

“So close,” you moaned.

I noticed the small things. Your hands clenched the steering wheel more tightly. Your nostrils flared wider, your eyes became more liquid, and your nipples strained at the thin material of your dress. The muscles in your legs tensed and twitched. Your right shoulder shook a little. I knew that you were close even without you saying so, so I decided to let it happen.

“Gonna cum,” you grunted.

I increased the pressure ever so slightly, not wanting to make it too hard. You gasped as the waves came closer and closer together, as my fingers continued their rhythmic movements.

“Cumming!” you exclaimed. “Don’t stop.”

Then, finally, the waves merged into one and you exploded into an orgasm that was intensified by the need to struggle to keep control of the car. You wanted to close your eyes, but you couldn’t, and the tears of pleasure ran down your cheeks as you concentrated your internal attention on keeping the orgasm going as long as you could. I love watching you do that.

“Still cumming,” you continued.

When I sensed that you have almost reached the point where the sensations cease to be pleasurable for you, I slowly stopped moving my fingers on your clitoris and left my hand between your legs for just a few moments.

“Fucking nice,” you sighed. “It was.”

“Yes,” I said. “Very beautiful.”

We didn’t talk further. There was no need to talk. We were, and are lovers. We understand one another and have just talked the language of love and desire.