Highway Thoughts
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Several hundred miles of interstate driving gave her ample time to think of seemingly everything and to remember anything. That clear, cool day had unexpectedly light traffic, softly undulating hills, and gently curving roads that began to feel somehow like lazy caresses. The thought of caressing stayed with her and creased her brow: how long had it been since she had been actually touched? Polite hugs at a family reunion hardly counted, but even that was more than she’d had for months. Life sometimes puts young, attractive, sexually adventurous women in a form of solitary confinement, most often when married and the husband’s away. The army was good at that – too good, she thought.
Memories became more tangible as she lingered on them. Just thinking of him, at all, made her feel alive, the dimmer switch of her Self turned up several notches. She chose to imagine simple things, having learned it’s safest not to think of hard-core sex while driving. So she pictured just sitting beside him, her hands close to her sides, the rough fabric of the couch exploring her unconsciously roaming fingers. It had been so long for her without touch that her imagination initially wouldn’t risk looking up from her hands, but she knew he was there at her side.
As the highway rushed by at 75 miles per hour, both her firmly hands on the steering wheel, her fantasy hands probed further on the couch, closer to him, and she looked up enough to see his thigh. The sense of him beside her suddenly felt so real she was sure that if she closed her eyes all her senses would confirm it. She couldn’t do that at the time, so instead she Beylikdüzü escort tried not to think about him, a futile effort.
More than the dashed lines in the road, she saw the denim jeans loosely on his right leg. He was a few inches from her, quietly waiting for her to adjust to his presence. She was scared of letting her mind’s eye look up to his face for fear she wouldn’t see him … or that she would. Which is worse, she wondered: when she knew she couldn’t have him, to picture him so vividly, or to let him fade and disappear?
With eyes on the road, she then perceived his shirt tucked partially into his pants. She noted his sleeve resting on the back of the couch, and realized abruptly that his arm must be just a couple inches from embracing her. She examined the sleeve only enough to determine that it was short, that the bare skin of his forearm was therefore keenly present behind her neck and head. His arm lay inert, however, allowing her to create him anew in her thoughts – something she had almost forgotten how to do. With a bold deep breath, she raised her eyes to see his strong chin, sweet lips stretched into a broad delighted grin, and his eyes intently searching hers.
The speedometer showed 90 miles per hour before she realized she was so lost in his gaze that the car had dissolved to her. The sight of a highway patrol car snapped her back to the present as she braked to the legal speed limit. Fortunately, the cop left her alone to her thoughts. For a while she was conscious of the grass on the median, the variations in the pavement, and the woods Beyoğlu escort bayan barren of leaves hugging the highway. Then she saw his eyes again, felt a warm rush fill her whole body almost at once. Through his eyes she felt him touch her somewhere deep inside in a way that rejuvenated her and softly began to electrify her. His eyes now roamed across her body, causing her to know pleasantly burning, chilling tingles wherever his gaze rested.
The rear lights from a Mack truck in front of her brought his glowing eyes back to swim in hers. Her smile because of it enveloped her with a peace and thrill she sometimes suspected she’d never again know other than in memory. It really had been that long for her, so long since she had been touched that even his imagined eyes on her touched her more than any physical person had for months.
“Left lane close ahead.” How appropriate the sign was since a primary lane in her life had also been closed. She slowed the car, merged, prepared for more delays and obstacles to both her worlds. His eyes returned to hers, and this time he sat directly facing her. “Be prepared to stop.” Her car might stop because of traffic, but she refused to halt her exciting yet otherwise innocent fantasy of him.
While looking at her somehow more intently, she seemed literally to feel one of his fingertips ever so lightly encounter her left ring finger. That miniscule connection plugged her in, charged her up, and overloaded her circuits. Thread-like bolts of fire escaped from somewhere within her to every cell in her skin, then rebounded together Escort Bomonti on her clit. She clenched the steering wheel, acutely grateful for the reduced speed limit in the construction zone. She felt feverish, her face and body hot, and after many moments her breath only gradually returned to her. She fought harder to take her mind off him, for safety sake, but although she maintained control of the car she lost herself to the tangible imagery of him.
In her dream world she now had her palms up, so when he gently lowered the weight of his large, strong, somewhat rough fingers and palm on top of hers, it felt to her as if he had pressed his full body on hers and had entered her in one smooth motion. It made no sense to her beyond that she knew it to be true. Something electrically erotic exploded in the base of her spine, raced up it and around her back. She was consumed in a nearly painful sensation that overwhelmed her so much that it had to recede for her to notice her approaching orgasm.
How she stayed in her lane on the highway was a mystery to her since she had felt close to blacking out from the unanticipated excitement. She was throbbing from the ecstasy and aching with even greater hunger, lusting for him. She was embarrassingly wet and undeniably ready for sex, eager to be taken. The image of his hand on hers, his body on hers, remained with her, inside her, sending erratic and totally surprising pulsating aftershocks throughout her.
Incredible, she thought, that merely thinking of his touch, even so barely on her, filled her with need while draining her of resistance, of awareness to anything else. She decided then to pull off at the next exit, park in a somewhat remote area, and to let herself completely surrender her entire mind and body to her fantasy. She was starved for a man’s touch – how much longer would she have to wait to get it again? Until then, at least she could touch herself.
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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32