What about my pussy?

"What about my pussy?" Amy said, an absolutely filthy lilt to her voice. "Have you missed this dripping wet snatch?" she teased again. I pulled away from the window, my cock still sticking straight out. I bent down to her window so my face was on the level with her and she was smiling like a mad woman.

"Fuck. Yes. I've missed that tight little fuck box. Does it still get as wet as it used to?" I asked, a flood of memories sweeping through my mind of all the times she'd soaked into the mattress in the apartment we shared. Of that one time that she actually soaked through the mattress and box spring and the fucking floor under our bed was wet. My cock was bobbing and throbbing between my legs in the parking lot. Still out, not exactly hidden, but at least obscured from the people getting out of the store after their late-night grocery runs.

"For you?" she asked and leaned back in the car, pushing her hips forward and sliding her ass off her seat. She I watched as she slid her fingers into her loose shorts. She shivered as I watched her, her mouth opening a little as she breathed in with ragged gasps. I looked at her eyes and they were half-lidded and staring at me. I licked my lips and she shivered again.

"Let me see." It wasn't a question any more. She shivered again. She looked like she wanted to say something, Amy always had a smart ass comment, but now it looked like she was having problems even saying anything. "Only see?" she breathed? I could hear how wet she was.