57 Minutes of heaven...

As an awkward teenager, did you ever play seven minutes of heaven? You go into a darkened closet with a shy boy and fool around with your clothes on while you fear the door opening any moment even though the rules say do not disturb?

Like that.

But parked under the shaded overhang between an SUV and a truck with heavy tinted rear windows was a bit less private. Which made it hot enough to need the engine on to run the air.

(Jim has asked that I not be descriptive in any identifiable way...so I will say a sedan pulled upo with a non-descript guy in it. ~A non-descript guy with piercing blue eyes~ PHSSLLLT!)

"This is probably kind of a bad idea...."

"Oh, no, it can't be bad, we have agreed your intentions are to be good, and I have committed to refrain from corrupting you..."

This goes back to the transcription of a chat that Jim exercised veto and letting ya'all read. Essentialy though we were playing what if..had to do with Clinton's definition of is or if or whatsit. How far could he go before he would feel like he couldn't look Wifey in the eye and say, "I did not have sexual relations with that harlot woman."

Basically the rules were as follows:

Two hand touch above the waist. Wait that was inter-mural powder-puff football.

At least one person had to have all their clothes on at any given time. (We may have stretched that one a bit when I told him his belt was hitting me wrong and slipped it off and then totally cheated and unzipped him.)

Making out was OK. I had asked about lap-dances, he said if you can figure out how to pull that off in a car...go for it...

The theory was that in a car how much trouble could we get into? Especially in the company parkinglot? I didn't remind him I consider cars an aphrodisiac lately.

Total nudity was verboten. He actually stopped me when I started to reach behind to unclasp my bra, but I am getting ahead of myself.

We drove off quickly lest anyone notice I was getting 'picked up'. That's where I left the narrative above.

He said, "Yeah, but I forgot about Pheromones or maybe its just your perfume?"

I wasn't wearing any (worried about Wifey) but had rubbed some lotion on my hands. Its an Avon cucumber/melon thing.

I held my hand up to his nose and he kissed my wrist..."This?"

"Yes, seems like a 'clean' scent."

Maybe I'd better go with a more neutral hand lotion next time.

He laughs, "Maybe I should buy Wifey the same kind." First time he called her Wifey, I think it annoys him when I do, which is half the fun.

We basically drove around the block for about 15 minutes it seemed like but I am sure it was much sooner. I teased and flirted. I had said I wouldn't do ANYTHING unless he specifically OK'd it.

"Is it OK that the top button on my blouse was undone before I got in?" ~smirk~

"May I cross my legs the other way?"

"Lose another button?"...."And this one?"

"Would you like to see a hint of pink lace?" By now it was getting a lot more dangerous than driving with a cell phone and I suggested we park..

"Where?" we cruised a neighborhood that runs right up to the business district, but the neighborhood watch seemed out in full force..or at least a lot of floppy hat wearing gardening ladies.

"Back to work.." He protested that it is way to risky..not as much for him, he says he hardly runs into anyone that knows him from before he became a contractor, but worried about me. I pointed out that the smokers hung out near the door and the actual lunch eating or nooner-having crowd wouldn't be back for over 30 minutes...

SO we parked.

He seemed conflicted. Visibly aroused. Shyly embarrassed.

We had talked about his concern about "getting something started and leaving me hanging." I had assured him I was a big girl and I own a vibrator.

I unbuckled and leaned over to his side and kissed him. Deeply.

He kissed back. A lot.

I encouraged his hand inside my open shirt. He foiled the move with a firm hold on my ribs, though his thumb brushed the underside of my cup a bit. That felt really nice.

I reached to the side fumbled and futzed around and found the recline..this got me back from the less tinted front windows and got me in a more temptingly fuckable position.

I tried to reach behind and unhook, but he said whoa. (really)

I said, well, If I gotta leave my bra on, you have to see the matching panties. He retreated to his side without objection as I (seductively , I think) unzzzzzzzzziped my skirt and eased it under me and down to the floor. Now I am wearing a button-down shirt that isn't the least bit buttoned, a lightly lined bra with a lace insert that matches the lace in the french cut panties. There's even a little bow at the top of the panties, but nothing happens if you untie it, just the hotglue comes off. And the shoes...he does appreciate them...

I was thinking though I should have matched the shoes to the panties if I was going to strip down to them...then I realized that given the location, if seen that was the least of my worries...I wasn't sure he was going to notice if anyone came that way, and asked him. He said that 8 people had come out of the building since we parked and 7 cars left. He figures two were in one car...only one car had come into the parking lot. I'm basically fucking Rainman here. Ok not fucking, but I felt very sparkly....should have taken him to Vegas!

anyway we nuzzled and fooled around and played and despite wanting me to avoid even toples nudity, I'm pretty sure that when his hand cupped mmy breast inside my bra and eased it out and the cup under, thats kinda nude.

He actually said, oops and meant it...said.."I got a little carried away...wasn't going to...."

Whatever he was or wasn't going to do was lost when his lips and tongue decided to explore my very erect nipple. My nipple didn't mind the lack of conversation.

"Oh, my..." he said looking flush, and guilty and full of wonder all at once...

At some point I was teasing him mercilessly stroking the his white jockeys up and down the length of his cock, my fingertips on the fabric, just the sides of my fingers brushing his rigid member. He was so engorged that you could see the ridge of detail of the head of his cock...it was all I could do not to rip those shorts down and nose-dive into his lap.

Now you can see why my DH got the office blowjob.

Someone asked about that like how often hubby gets blown..I realized that answer lately (A LOT) doesn't match historicaly data trends and hubby is an accountant...Do men take gratuitous fellatio the way woman are suspicious of flowers "just because"? Hope not!

I Love love loved the whole thing. Partly I like the whole public thing. I like the whole orgasm denial thing..(although this was more than just orgasm denied, I don't know if there is a word for this level of denial.)

It was about desire, and sensuality, and forbidden, and fidelity and it was hot.

I'd do it again in a heartbeat despite Jim's misgivings that in my current nympho-maniacal state I'd be frustrated.

Fair warning though Jim - Next time you get your cock within arm's reach I am not promising not to gobble it up. I wouldn't want to make hubby suspicious if I come too home cock-hungry!