Drive back home

Before I could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding and my mind spinning. I glanced down at the card in my hand, his number staring back at me.

I shoved the card into my bag and bolted for the door, my legs carrying me as fast as they could manage. The warm summer air outside hit my face, I fumbled with my mom’s keys, finally unlocking her car and collapsing into the driver’s seat.

I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, my chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. It felt like I survived a near-**** experience, but for some reason I felt ecstatic. I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself, but all she could see was Jake’s face—those piercing eyes, that smirk, the way he’d looked at me like he could see right through me.

I reached into my mom’s bag and pulled out the card again, staring at the phone number. I quickly added his contact in my mom’s phone so I wouldn’t lose it.

The car felt too small, too hot, my skin prickling with a mix of sweat and something deeper, something uncontrollable.

As I buckled my seatbelt and prepared to pull out of my parking spot, adjusted myself in the seat and felt the now cool, gooey substance sticking to my upper thighs.

The memory of the spin class, shot through me as I could still vividly feel the bike seat pressing against my shaven pussy.

I shifted in my seat again, but my leggings clung to my in all the wrong—or maybe all the right—places. The fabric felt damp, and I knew it wasn’t just sweat.

Before she could think better of a better solution, I slipped my hand down the front of the leggings. A jolt of warmth shot through me as I pressed my fingers into my smooth, bare folds coating them in my slick fluids. I yearned for more.

Just then I saw a group of people exit the gym and started walking toward my direction. I started to panic and yanked my hand so quickly out of my pants that the elastic waistband snapped back against my stomach, stinging me with a burning ache. I knew I had to get out of here, so I hurriedly put my car in reverse with my clean hand and started driving to the exit of the parking lot.

I held my other arm in the air, so my sticky fingers won’t ruin my mom’s leather seats. As I drove towards the parking lot exit, I glanced over at my slick, slimy hand knowing well that I needed to address the mess. I thought about wiping them on my tank top since it was dirty anyway. But seeing my mom’s glossy fluids coating her manicured nails, it would be a waste to wipe them off. One by one, I licked each finger clean, succulently enjoying the tangy, clear fluids until they were spotless. An odd sensation grew over me, like the feeling I got in the spin class, it was an itch that wasn’t going anywhere until it was released.

It was some sort of concoction of arousal, shame, and humiliation. A voice in the back of my head whispered to me, “Expose yourself”. Without even thinking I stopped the car at the exit of the parking lot just before I turned onto the main street. I then lifted my tank top and sports bra, allowing my large perky breasts to hang loose. The feeling of relief from the sports bra was outstanding, I gently cupped my tits in my hands, feeling my nipples tick the center of my palms.

I let out a giggle, knowing how naughty my actions were. I let go of my mom’s tits and used my hands to slide my leggings down my legs as I took my foot off the car’s brake and slowly rolled forward as I looked for my opportunity to turn into the lane.

Just as my leggings got below my knees, the opening came, and I put my foot on the gas and turned onto the main road. Luckily, the roads weren’t too busy since it was after rush hour, and I calmly cruised in the first lane as I turned up the radio in my mom’s car and took a deep breath.

I took one hand off the steering wheel and used it to scoop up some more fluids before they soaked into the leather seats. As I brought my hand to my mom’s sculpted face, my tongue darted out, tasting myself, as I let out a low, shuddering breath. It was intoxicating, the way my mom tasted. I couldn’t stop, I needed more. My fingers dove back between my legs, scooping up more of my juices, bringing them to my mouth again and again.

My moans filled the car, my hips rocking slightly as I licked my fingers clean, each taste sending a jolt of pleasure through my body. It was if I had tasted the greatest dish ever created and needed to savour every bite of it. I was so enthralled by this, I forgot about the fact my tits were out as I drove home, clueless to whether I had been seen by anyone. It was only when I turned on to my street, did I snap back to reality and cover myself up, in case a neighbour might see.