SSS 2 - Volunteer to drive

“I will,” you say. Bian might be a better driver than you are, but she can barely see over the dashboard. She readily stands aside so you can climb in. Taytum grumpily pulls her door shut and takes a swig from her bottle as you’re buckling up. Bian opens the passenger door.

“Excuse you,” Taytum says. “Body pillows don’t sit up front.”

Bian snorts, blushing. She glances at you, then closes the door and gets into the backseat, where Taytum immediately enfolds her. You wait for a moment, annoyed. They need to wear seatbelts.

“Can you,” you begin, or try to begin, but the words don’t really come out. You close your mouth. Bian might listen, but Taytum won’t. There’s no point. You sigh and put your phone on the mount, punching in the address. As you do, the rain starts pattering on the windshield. Great.

At least if you’re driving, you can pick the music.

“You smell,” Bian giggles behind you.

You poke the screen to hit play. The music starts as you head down the driveway. In a moment you’re cruising the two-lane highway into Gurlberg with the windshield wipers going.

“How far is it?” Taytum’s asking.

“Probably an hour,” Bian replies.

You glance at the GPS. An hour is probably right in this weather. The sky is heavy. This is just rain, but a storm is possible. That gives you some anxiety, but it’s not like you can just pick another night to do this. Well, can you?

“Should we see if we can do this another night?” you ask hesitantly.

“And disappoint my Onee-sama? Never,” Bian replies without hesitation. “Where are you putting your hands?”

“Shhhh. Body pillows shouldn’t talk,” Taytum slurs. It’s a good thing she’s not driving. You know exactly what’s in that bottle.

You stop at Gurlberg’s one stoplight and wait. The rain pours more heavily on the car. Blue lightning flashes to the east. Driving in this is not the coolest. You turn down your music so you can concentrate.

“Do we know who we’re meeting?” you ask.

“No. They’ll find us,” Bian replies.

As you leave town on a narrow, swamp highway headed south, you wish one of them was riding up front with you. You feel weirdly alone, especially when you are well aware of how little attention they’re paying to you. You glance at the rearview mirror to see Bian’s shirt bulging because Taytum’s got a hand in there to feel up her boobs while she nibbles the petite girl’s ear. Can’t Taytum just look at her phone during a car ride like a normal person? No?

“Let me have a drink of that,” Bian says. Great.

The water hides a deep pothole, which you hit with a jerk and a splash.

“Whoa!” Taytum says and Bian lets out a cute little shriek. “Watch it, Lyna!”

“Put on your seatbelt,” you growl.

“Just drive good,” Taytum replies.

“Grr.” You squeeze the wheel tighter, focusing on the road. The storm gets worse fast. Huge raindrops pelt the windshield, coating it in hazy gray. You can barely see your headlights in the gloom. It goes without saying that these swamp roads have no lights of any kind. It’s brutal.

You hear a familiar gasp from the backseat. Taytum must have her hand in Bian’s shorts. Really? You’re going to show up tonight even more of a mess than usual and smelling like sex?

Something hits the back of your seat. Probably Bian’s foot. You’re blushing a little, and you try not to look at the mirror. That will just encourage Taytum. You don’t really think that this is the best idea right now, but you’re outvoted. Situations like this are part of being a throuple, not that you’re anything quite that official. Would it be more accurate to say that Bian is your shared girlfriend? No, that seems even less accurate, given the way Taytum’s been behaving with you lately. That makes you blush harder. You need to focus.

There’s a soft sigh from the backseat. You don’t envy Bian, not that being on the receiving end of Taytum’s drunken horniness is itself a bad thing. You and Taytum are polar opposites. You’re stressed and anxious, and thus, not especially horny. Taytum deals with anxiety through lewdness. She’s acting all grumpy and chill, but she’s every bit as nervous as you and Bian are.

Bian lets out a quiet moan that tells you that Taytum’s fingers have gotten down to business. Without the rain noise, you’d probably be able to hear the squelching of her expert ministrations. And Taytum is an expert, even drunk.

You put on the brakes as your headlights reflect back harshly. You squint through the rain-streaked windshield at the highway. You can’t even see it. That’s just water. It’s impossible to know how deep this puddle is, but it’s big. You don’t know this road, but there was another one not far back. You could try going around.

Or you can try to push through this puddle.

Push through?

Or go back and detour?