Car Masturbation

I worked a stint in Los Angeles, and my commute could be anywhere from painful to awful. It wasn't that far, but it was a nightmare. I didn't hit the freeways, only surface roads, and my biggest nemesis was a five-way intersection in North Hollywood during rush hour. The five thoroughfares, combined with too-short green lights, guaranteed I would be at a standstill for at least 10 minutes or more. I was caught in this nightmare and already late for drinks with a rather hot guy whom I was determined to coax back to my place for some mutual satisfaction.

But as I waited to get past this gauntlet of an intersection, my frustration and excitement for later needed to be released. Immediate release. I slid my hand up my thighs, kept it hidden under my skirt, and gently rubbed the fabric of my panties against my clit. I was already wet from the anticipation of later, but when my fingers pressed on my button, I flooded. Thank God for leather seats.

I knew it was me against the light, and decided to see who would win. One hand on the wheel, the other on my lap, I could feel the prickly heat as I flicked and fingered myself faster and faster until my climax approached.

The key was to keep a straight face, which I managed as I moved closer and closer, and just as the light turned green, my orgasm hit. I'm pretty sure my face couldn't stay composed, and I recall letting out an overjoyed groan. My hand slammed the horn button, and I blared the horn. This is a carnal sin in Los Angeles traffic, and I could feel all eyes on me, but I was riding a self-inflicted pleasure ride and didn’t care who was watching.

My panties were soaked, so I had to take them off. The date was good, but my fingers were better.

And for the next five months, I approached the five-way intersection at Lankershim in North Hollywood with a wicked grin, knowing I could easily kill the ten minutes it would take to get past that light.
Nice!!…thanks for sharing👍🏻❤️
 
I worked a stint in Los Angeles, and my commute could be anywhere from painful to awful. It wasn't that far, but it was a nightmare. I didn't hit the freeways, only surface roads, and my biggest nemesis was a five-way intersection in North Hollywood during rush hour. The five thoroughfares, combined with too-short green lights, guaranteed I would be at a standstill for at least 10 minutes or more. I was caught in this nightmare and already late for drinks with a rather hot guy whom I was determined to coax back to my place for some mutual satisfaction.

But as I waited to get past this gauntlet of an intersection, my frustration and excitement for later needed to be released. Immediate release. I slid my hand up my thighs, kept it hidden under my skirt, and gently rubbed the fabric of my panties against my clit. I was already wet from the anticipation of later, but when my fingers pressed on my button, I flooded. Thank God for leather seats.

I knew it was me against the light, and decided to see who would win. One hand on the wheel, the other on my lap, I could feel the prickly heat as I flicked and fingered myself faster and faster until my climax approached.

The key was to keep a straight face, which I managed as I moved closer and closer, and just as the light turned green, my orgasm hit. I'm pretty sure my face couldn't stay composed, and I recall letting out an overjoyed groan. My hand slammed the horn button, and I blared the horn. This is a carnal sin in Los Angeles traffic, and I could feel all eyes on me, but I was riding a self-inflicted pleasure ride and didn’t care who was watching.

My panties were soaked, so I had to take them off. The date was good, but my fingers were better.

And for the next five months, I approached the five-way intersection at Lankershim in North Hollywood with a wicked grin, knowing I could easily kill the ten minutes it would take to get past that light.
Thank you. I quite enjoyed reading this. In traffic is kind of risky and sexy.
 
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