Return the favor

As Kendra’s fingers continue to expertly work your cock into full erection, you conclude there is no way she is really sleeping. To test the theory, you discreetly move your hand under the blanket to her crotch and begin some gentle rubbing. As you suspected, a smile forms on her face, and she turns her head toward you, opens her eyes, and purses her lips in a kiss.

You look up at the senior members of the Ivers family and confirm that they are still unaware of your under-the-blanket activities. You feel a tug on your zipper, quickly followed by the sensation of fingers on the button of your pants.

You do the same to Kendra. Curiously, although you have been fucking like rabbits over the past few weeks, you don’t have a lot of experience in removing her pants. That’s something she usually does herself. You certainly aren’t accustomed to attempting it one-handed and without the ability to see what your fingers are doing. Your inexperience with this aspect of your physical relationship means that Kendra already has her hand in your pants, fingers around your cock, well before you manage to undo the button of her jean shorts.

You almost moan when you feel her warm hand on your shaft, but you remember your surroundings in time and bite your tongue. Her hand feels cramped inside your underwear. With your free hand you help her by pushing your jeans and underwear down, allowing your cock to spring free, covered only by the blanket over your lap.

Meanwhile — and with a little bit of help from your girlfriend — you have succeeded in opening Kendra’s shorts and sliding them and her panties partway down her waist. You reach between her legs and feel her freshly-shaved pussy, delighting in how smooth the soft skin between her legs feels against your fingertips. You teasingly trace the line of her slit and are rewarded with a tightened grip around your hard shaft.

You look over at Kendra. Her eyes bore into yours with a look you have come to recognize as pure lust. This is the expression she gets right before she starts begging you to take her or — just as frequently — she lacks the patience or willpower to wait and simply jumps you and starts bouncing on your rod with all her strength. You can tell that the current circumstances are torturous for her and that for once she knows she has **** but to submit to your teasing touch.

You look at the other side of her at Sarah’s sleeping form. You have no doubt that she is truly sleeping. If she had been awake, there’s no way she would have been able to ignore the movements taking place under the blanket the three of you share. Once aware, there’s no way this gorgeous nympho could possibly have restrained herself from joining in.

You let the tip of your forefinger gently enter Kendra’s slit, slowly exploring the full length of the moist lips. A moan escapes her lips before she realizes what she is doing.

You glance up just in time to see Mr. Ivers’ eyes in the rear view mirror. “Everything ok back there, honey?” he asks?

“Oh yes!” says Kendra, with just a bit too much enthusiasm. I try to pull my hand away, but her right hand grasps my own, keeping it firmly between her legs. With her left hand, she continues to pump my rod, occasionally pausing to rub her thumb in circles over its sensitive tip.

“Do you need me to stop and give us all a bathroom break?” asks her father. “There’s a travel mart at the next exit.”

“No! DON’T STOP!” says Kendra, pressing my hand against her snatch, urging me to continue fingering her.

Mr. Ivers’ eyebrows go up. “OK... I was just asking. You don’t have to shout. How about you, Connor? Do you need to take a break?”

“No.. I’m good. Really good....” Kendra’s teasing of your cockhead always turns you on, and the way she is rubbing your precum around right now, gently squeezing the tip of your shaft between her thumb and forefinger is driving you wild. “Please don’t stop!” you say, much more toward her than to her father.

Mr. Ivers continues to drive in silence, occasionally looking back at you in the rearview mirror with expressionless eyes. You and your girlfriend turn your faces away from each other and try your best to stare blankly out the window at the passing scenery, really hoping your facial expressions do not betray the feeling of ecstasy you each are experiencing from under the blanket.

Your forearm is starting to develop a bit of a cramp as you insert your forefinger up to the second knuckle and begin to fingerfuck your hot girlfriend. Your can tell it is an exercise of **** self-control for her to not be bucking her hips and gyrating against your finger thrusts. She focuses her energy, instead, on rapidly pumping your engorged member, occasionally letting go of your rod so she can feel up and play with your sensitive balls.

“Are you feeling ok, Kendra? You look rather flushed,” says Mr. Ivers, with concern. You look at her and see a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“It’s soooo hot,” replies Kendra, continuing to urge your hand to redouble its efforts of pleasuring her. You add your middle finger inside her and use your two fingers to rub and stimulate her swollen clit.

“I’ll turn up the air conditioner,” says her father. “Why don’t you pull off that blanket if you’re so warm?”

“I will...” says Kendra, who is clearly having difficulty keeping her voice regulated. “Soon... very soon... I’m going to ... get off....”

Mr. Ivers’ brow furrows, but he says nothing for a while, apparently content to let his daughter decide what she needs for her comfort. Little does he know that what she needs at that moment is for you to touch her right in that spot that you know will send her over the edge. Her hand against yours signals her desire for you to do your magic, but you are holding off, wanting to cum at the same time she does. That event is rapidly approaching as Kendra’s hand, slick with the surprising amount of precum she has milked from you, squeezes and glides rapidly up and down the full length of your boner.

“Are your classes very far from your dorm, Connor?” asks Mr. Ivers, momentarily distracting you from the growing **** between your legs. “Is it much of a walk for you?”

You can barely concentrate enough to answer him in anything close to a casual voice. You muster up all your focus and respond. “I’m close... really close... I can cum — I mean go — at any time.”

“Me too,” gasps Kendra. “I’m really, really close... So very close!”

You look up in the mirror and see that Mr. Ivers is focused on the road ahead of him. You hope he stays that way because you aren’t sure you will be able to keep a straight face for the next few moments.

You bring the tip of your middle finger to the spot directly behind Kendra’s clit that is guaranteed to send her into orbit. You know you succeeded in finding it when her cunt clenches around her fingers and her grip on your thick shaft tightens and begins to shake.

As her body silently convulses in a wave of orgasm, you stop trying to hold yourself back and release the blast of cum Kendra has been cultivating. You bite your lip to keep from making a noise, and you focus on keeping your facial expression neutral. Somehow the experience of trying to keep your climax a secret only intensifies its power, and you feel your body shaking, as if experiencing a siezure.

When at last you begin to trust that you have regained control of your body, your eyes dart to the mirror to see if Mr. Ivers gives any indication of suspecting what you have been doing with his daughter. Seeing nothing from him, other than an interest in keeping the car headed toward its destination, you turn and look at your girlfriend. Her forehead is as sweaty as yours is, and she is gazing at you with a look of undisguised admiration and happiness.

You feel her hand on your stomach, and you realize she is attempting to wipe up the gooey evidence of your carnal playtime. A quick peek under the blanket confirms that the front of your shirt is quite wet, even after she has scooped up as much as her fingers can garner. After quickly looking up in the mirror to see if her father is looking, her hand darts up to her mouth, where she hungrily licks her fingers and palm clean.

The two of you pull up your pants, and you keep the blanket over you, hoping your shirt will dry before anyone suspects what you have been doing.

Kendra lays her head on your shoulder and intertwines her fingers with yours before closing her eyes. You feel a relaxed peacefulness in your post-coital high, and you’re tempted to join the ladies in catching a nap, but you remember that the last time that happened you were unable to prevent Kendra’s shenagins before you were too turned on to turn back. Perhaps it would be better this time to stay awake; next time you may not be as lucky in preventing Mr. Ivers from discovering what has been going on in his backseat.