I can't keep my hands on the wheel

I started driving again.

The service station disappeared in the rear-view mirror and the highway stretched out in front of me. My head was still buzzing — from the weekend, from Alice, from the decision to update my Tinder profile like some cocky new version of myself. I should’ve been focusing on the road.

Instead, without even really thinking about it, I undid my jeans one-handed and pulled my cock out.

It was already half-hard again.

The cool air from the air-con hit it as I drove, one hand lazily stroking myself while the other stayed on the wheel. My pants were open, belt hanging loose, cock standing up against my stomach. Every few seconds I’d give it a slow pump, still slick from Alice’s pussy and the loads I’d left inside her.

I knew it was stupid. Dangerous, even. But I couldn’t stop.

I grabbed my phone from the passenger seat, thumbed over to Snapchat, and scrolled through my list. There were a few girls I’d flirted with on and off over the last few months — nothing serious, just teasing back and forth. One of them had sent me nudes before. Another had been very open about how much she loved sucking cock.

Without overthinking it, I lifted my knee and wedged it against the bottom of the steering wheel to keep the car steady. My free hand wrapped around my cock properly now, stroking it slow and deliberate while I held the phone up.

I hit record.

The video showed my lap, my hand slowly working my thick cock, the open highway visible through the windscreen. I didn’t say anything. I just let the wet sounds of my hand moving fill the short clip, along with the low rumble of the engine.

Then I sent it.

To all three of them.

The second the snaps went through, a rush of adrenaline hit me. My cock throbbed hard in my fist. I kept stroking, slower now, letting the risk and the filth of what I’d just done wash over me.

One of them opened it almost immediately.

A few seconds later my phone buzzed with a reply.

I glanced down at the screen while still driving, still slowly jerking myself.

The message was simple:

“Fuck… you driving like that right now? Where are you?”

I smirked, gave my cock another slow stroke, and kept driving.

Something had definitely changed.