“You know, you can touch me,” she whispered, crinkling her nose affectionately as she smirked, “I’m not a display at a museum.” I reached behind her, and rested my palms on the fat of her ass. The quirk of her devious grin beckoned me to continue, so I squeezed. She gasped slightly through her smiling mouth, and planted an affectionate kiss on my closed lips. The delectable flesh of her backside formed warm and soft in my hands, and protruded from between my gripping knuckles. She kissed me again, and her tongue flicked across my mouth, beckoning it to open. I did, and I tasted the sweet flavor of her as she invaded me. Her lips sucked with a gentle hedonism, and her tongue toyed with my own, playfully inviting me to engage with her. I reciprocated her affection, and drank in her lust as my eyes closed in bliss. She parted from the embrace in a gasp, and I could feel her heart thrumming through her pressing breasts. She reached back, grabbed my cock, and positioned it at her slick,. Spreading her legs, she worked her fingers down between her toned thighs. She smiled to herself as she leaned back and relaxed somewhat in the privacy she felt sitting there alone in her car in the dark. She wondered how many other women were rubbing themselves as the the traffic ebbed and flowed its way through the moonlit city. How many other white collar women had sucked or fucked their bosses before heading home to clueless husbands? How many other wives were wantonly cheating? She wondered how she'd explain herself to a cop if she bumped the car ahead. She was being careful, but it was hard to concentrate on stopping and going and, well, coming. It took less than three minutes to bring herself to orgasm and with it…relief. 'Damn,' she thought. 'I needed that.' It was also about that time that she inadvertently eased past the exit to Pete's house. "Oh fuck," she said aloud. "Oh well, I didn't want to rush our first time anyway." Karen retrieved her phone and sent Pete a message.
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