The 70 Mile An Hour Club

It’s FRIDAY bitches! You know what that means… our third installation of Fuckday Friday! Don’t know what I’m talking about? Click here and here. Want to submit your spicy scandalous story? Click here.

This one is brought to you by a man who knows what he wants, and knows how to get it regardless of the, uh, circumstances.

Hope you get a little juicy after reading this one… Enjoy!

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I was dating a girl, and by this point, it’d been maybe a year into the relationship. We ended up dating for four years, but that’s another story, and certainly not appropriate for Fuckday Friday. The sex was still spectacular. She had this way, when riding on top of me, to essentially lay down on me, become stiff as a board with me still inside her and then come like a dragon. It was the only way she could get off and man, was it fun to watch. She had these amazing boobs that would dangle in my face while she pistoned away on top of me. I would get lost in those tits…

Where was I? Oh yes, so after about a year or so, she decided to take a school trip to England. I was beside myself. A whole 2 weeks (or three) without getting any sex. At all. I’m not the type to cheat (not on her, at least) so I was pretty jazzed when she was making her way back.

The whole time she was gone, I wrote her email after email about what I was going to do to her when I saw her again. These emails allowed me to hone my sexual writing craft and she would respond when she could, which of course was never often enough. I had to resort to watching the couple of sex tapes we’d made by that point to help myself. After 2 (or 3) weeks, I was ready to bend her over the check-in counter as soon as she walked off her plane.

I was very specific with her and her return. In an email, for the return flight home, I told her to wear a skirt and no panties. Not only would that help her stay aroused during the long 7 hour flight back, but as soon as she de-boarded, I was going to take her into a bathroom, men’s or women’s and fuck her brains out. I knew that if she stepped off that plane wearing a long skirt, I’d be in business.

The anticipation was killing me. I’d gotten hard thinking about taking her in a dirty bathroom and slamming her against the bathroom stall, only to have it whither away when it turned out her flight was late.

The plane arrives. People de-board. My cock grows. More people de-board. She’s not there. Why wasn’t she getting off the damn plane?

And then, in a beautiful moment, she arrives. Like an angel from Heaven. Smiling. Waving. WEARING A FUCKING SKIRT.

I don’t think I’ve ever been that hard in my entire life.

The tent I was pitching was so fucking huge that I was convinced I was going to get arrested for public lewdness.

She came to me, and I kissed her. Hard. Deep. Three weeks of not kissing the woman that I was in love with, and had had the most amazing sex of my life with. She felt my manhood press into her abdomen and I whispered into her ear, “Let’s find a bathroom.” She nodded.

The first bathroom was closed for service. Drat.

The second bathroom was open but had a long, long line. Fuck.

The third bathroom was gloriously open. And empty. I started to follow her in and she turned to me and said, give me a second. I waited patiently. I hear a toilet flush. What the fuck is she doing? She returns, saying, it was a long flight. Let’s go.

WHAT?!?!?!

My cock nearly broke the zipper on my pants it was so mad.

But fine. Ok. I can handle this.

We get in the car.

For the four hour drive home.

Luckily for me, I wasn’t the only one horny as shit. Not a half-hour outside of the airport, amidst those miles and miles of cornfields, her hand silently falls into my laps. My hard-on was still raging. This helped matters a bit. I look at her and smile. She doesn’t say a word. She just lifts her skirt and shows off her sweetly trimmed, panty-less pussy. My hand shot so fast over to her that I could’ve been confused for a speeding bullet. Within seconds, she was moaning. She was wetter than I’d ever seen her.

I mumbled that I was going to pull over. She said no. I think I actually whimpered a bit. But I should’ve known better. She undid my trousers, set loose my engorged member and then pushed the driver’s seat back that I was sitting in.

I quickly put on the cruise control and she climbed on top of me. I was inside her and damn near burst my balls on the first stroke. But no, I am a professional. I held myself in check. I didn’t crash the car. She just forced herself down onto me, pushing me deeper and deeper inside of her until I literally thought we were going to meld into one being.

Then she started thrusting. Not a lot. Just enough to cause some friction. Rocking her hips back and forth. Me forcing her head down so I could see the damn road. Eventually not caring, as the pleasure was insane. The few motorists we passed either didn’t see us or didn’t seem to care that these two 20-year-olds were fucking not 3 feet away from their sleeping children in a car barreling down the highway at 70 miles per hour.

She started thrusting her hips faster. And faster. And faster. She moaned so loud, I thought my eardrums were going to explode. When she came, she sounded like a porn star. I’m good, but I can’t resist the porn star screaming, so I came, long and hard. My car jerked into the lane next to us (it was a four-lane highway, thank God) and I caught us from going into the ditch at the last second.

She layed on top of me, slumped from her sexual exhaustion for a good 20 minutes. I think she may have fallen asleep on me. Of course, that caused some interesting stares from cars passing us, but the sex did not.

All in all, it was a great fuck. In a moving car. I highly recommend it.

It wasn’t the last fuck for us on that ride home, either. We did stop and fuck again in a cornfield, only to have a farmer chase us. But, that’s a story for another day.