Just a little trick

Just a little bit of silliness to make up for yesterday’s post. Prepare yourself, it gets sexy at the end…

You drove, I lounged in the passenger seat. The weather defied your mood: It was sunny and unseasonably warm outside. I unrolled my window, you left yours up. “I’m glad we’re together like this,” I said sarcastically through your stony silence.

“Roll your window down,” I half-whined. “We’re getting that weird reverb.” You ignored me, kept driving.

I slipped off my sandals and put my bare feet up on the dashboard.

“Quit it,” you grumbled, trying to push my feet down. You swerved a little.

“Watch it,” I warned you, moving my feet out of your reach. “Hey, is it raining in there, or what?” I tapped your head with one finger. Nothing. “I think it is raining,” I took my own joke. “Driving rain,” I drum-rolled on my bare thighs. Still nothing. Jeez.

A minute passed. “Wanna play a game?” I asked even though I knew your answer would be no.

“No way,” you said.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ll like it, I promise.” I tried to catch your eye but you were staring dead ahead, focusing on the road. I continued since I had nothing else to do. “Okay, so I read about this online. It’s some new thing. I’m gonna make you come without touching you. It’s like magic or something.” Nothing, not even a smile.

“Are you ready?” I tried not to get upset about your lack of interest. “Here goes.” I put my hands up to my head to show you I was concentrating, even though I felt your eyes glued to the road. I concentrated. I thought about you, even though you were right there next to me. You’d have never let me touch you, even if you weren’t driving.

I started at the top of your head, and slowly, very slowly, thought about moving downward. I felt chills on my own head, so I knew it was working. I thought about the back of your neck, with its little hairs, and the hairs on my own neck began to tingle. This was seriously hot. I thought lower, to your chest, and my own chest, well, perked up. I thought lower, to your belly, to the top of your jeans, and lower. By then I was tingling all over – everywhere – and I knew you were, too. I could feel you shifting in your seat, trying to stop the tingling, to release the pressure, to keep your focus on the road, but you couldn’t.

“Pull over,” I said. For once, you acknowledged me, and silently pulled over. Just like I thought, you didn’t reach for me. I knew it. I kept thinking, though. I thought really hard. Again and again. My panties were wet and I was burning up and the cool breeze through my window felt really good. I bet you wished you’d put your window down, but you were sort of frozen there, eyes half-closed, pretty much a sex zombie, just like I read you’d be. I concentrated some more, and you actually let out a small moan. Woo-hoo! I thought. It was totally working.

Okay, time to seal the deal, I thought. “Where do you want to come?” I asked. You tilted your head toward me but you didn’t answer. I could feel how bad you wanted it, which was really rare. I smiled again even though you could probably barely see me with your eyes almost closed. “Where?” I asked again, knowing that you wouldn’t tell me. “My boobs? My face?” I laughed like I was daring you, and I sort of laid down on your lap, against the steering wheel, facing you but barely touching you, really. It was all you needed. I laughed as you tried to jerk your hips toward my face. It was too late. Your jeans were already soaked through.

“I did it! I can’t believe that worked.” I grinned at you and you actually looked down into my face and touched my hair. I was so happy I almost cried.

A couple of minutes passed and we both straightened up and looked at your soaking wet jeans. “What the hell am I going to tell my mom?” you asked. I cracked up. “Wanna stop at the mall?” I suggested as if I just thought of it.