In the early days we had roommates to avoid. We also worked together every evening on writing projects, so we would often have other collaborators nearby. The sensitive nature of some of the projects led us to have more of a secret relationship for a while. I am sure people knew we were close, but we did not want to let in just how close, just yet. For a while, we did not even know how close we had become. The long hours together were often grueling. Back rubs were freely passed around for the people that were in their 8th and 10th hour of writing/typing, so back rubs between the two of us were not unusual.

One evening Jack and I were working alone. We had just managed to transfer an enormous document over the network from my system to his for editing. I was fairly well exhausted and slumped in my chair. He came over and massaged my shoulders. Something about his touch was electric. I started to sweat a little, and I began to tremble. Jack noticed. Suddenly he leaned in to give me a kiss. He took a chance, not knowing that I was very interested in him. I kissed back. Around 7 years of pent up interest, curiosity, and passion was transferred in that kiss. It was a long and deep. I would not have been able to stand afterwards, weak in the knees would have been the least of my problems. He pulled away and we just looked at each other. He sank to a chair next to me and and said nothing. I turned to face him and said “This is going to be complicated.” We were both healing from the break-up upheaval of other relationships, with people we both knew fairly well.

Soon after the kiss we would sneak out of the apartment and later my house every night, usually somewhere between 1 and 3 a.m. We’d find a secluded country road. My little red car happened to have quite a large cockpit area so there was room for two on the front passenger seat. We would be so hot for each other that the car would already be steaming up on 3 or 4 mile drive the drive to the right spot.

Usually before I pulled over to park, Jack’s hand was down my pants and he was fingering my soaking wet pussy. Ever since then I’ve had a fondness for being fingered with my clothes on; it brings back that sense of an illicit liaison, not being able to wait one more second. I would have had his cock in my hand if the car was not a stick shift…  Once I did pull over, it did not take long before my clothing was on the floor or the back seat. Usually my shirt was still on, but my bra was either removed or open. I wore a lot of tiny, lacy front-closure bras back then! I would quickly climb on top, impale myself on Jack and we would fuck until the car was hot. In the winter the windows would be frosted over on the inside. The arm rest on the door and the center console pocket were amazingly good (and durable) knee supports. We were frequently passed by farmers and others using the country roads. I don’t think anyone mistook us for people having car trouble. Besides the silhouette of a half-naked girl bouncing on the passenger, I am sure the car was seriously rocking.

The car offered fairly limited options for sex positions, but we definitely tried quite a few. We tried the back seat and even the floor of the back hatch. It turns out that automotive carpeting is very abrasive. Live and learn. The upshot of what had to have been over 200 girl-on-top car fucks, we had a long time where actually having an opportunity to adopt the missionary position was a bit of a luxury and novelty.

I am definitely thinking that the new little red sports car needs to drive to a country road (much longer trip) on one of our date nights.