I caught a lift from you because it’s about to rain. Not because I like you. I don’t. I’m amused by you. Yeah, that’s the right word, amused. You’ve got that cheeky little boy grin, but you know it. I don’t like guys who know it. I don’t like their expectation that it will get them places, not to mention get them into places. I prefer guys with a studied, measured confidence, where they don’t have to try to impress. You’re more like a little puppy who’s learned some new tricks. You’re altogether too eager for my liking.
I have to admit, though, you’ve got the body I like. You have that broad-shouldered, narrow waist thing going on. It means you look good in just about anything, and as we drive along I can see your bod out of the corner of my eye.
I can also see you watching me. It’s not the casual glance of someone talking to me as they drive. It’s more studied than that. More localised. You’re unconsciously licking your lips when your eyes land on my flat stomach, visible below my short blouse. The girls at the office told me you’re into asses in a big way, but as I’ve got mine perched on your leather upholstery, you’re making do with a generous shot of firm, tanned thigh. You almost got a look at my pussy when I got in but ah, you weren’t quick enough, were you?
We can see the storm heading for us before the rain starts. The sky is black – night during day – and the streetlights and headlights are on before the rain falls. It takes about ten seconds to become a blinding, driving downpour. I tell you to pull over into a disused lot, a derelict garage sporting graffiti, and weeds growing through the tarmac. Some dishevelled oak trees partly shield us from the traffic. You ask me why we’re stopping here, but you have to shout, because the rain is drumming hard on the fabric top of the convertible.
“Because you want to fuck me, and I’m gonna give you the chance.”
Most guys would wait a second, see if I was just kidding, question whether they’d heard it right. Not you. That arrogant thing again. You just reach over to grab my tits. Don’t be a fucking kid. I want a man to nail me. Not a fumbling boy. I slap your hands away.
“Uh-uh. Not like that, honey. You want to fuck me, you’ve got to take a chance to get it. I want to fuck right now, on the hood of this car, in front of all this traffic.”
You smile, thinking I’m joking, but I’m not. I can see you weighing it up. You’re such a prissy little prick about your look, your hair, your clothes. Maybe you just don’t wanna get wet, mama’s boy. Maybe you don’t want to fuck in public. Maybe your folks would go nuts if the cops dragged you home, for fucking some slut in front of the highway at rush hour. Maybe you don’t think you can get it up. Yeah, maybe it’s that.
I open the door. The fierce roar of the rain hits us. The water lashes against the open door. I step out, and I’m drowned before I reach the front of the car. It’s like walking through a swimming pool. The water stings my head, my back, my tits. The blouse is drenched and opaque. My nipples are rock-hard, slapped every second by the rain. The blouse melts against my stomach like a second skin. My skirt is just a wet cloth gripping my ass, and my pussy mound. It’s useless, so I tear it off. I’m standing in front of your car in the rain, bare-assed, offering to get fucked. But you don’t move.
I can barely see you. The rain is sliding off the windshield in waves. You’re a shadowy, waxy figure, distorted by the water. You appear immovable, implacable. I don’t know if you’re trying to get up the guts, or thinking of driving off and leaving a skanky little bitch like me to take her chances. Frankly, baby, you’re pissing me off. You’ve become a challenge. I’m used to guys itching to get their dicks into me. I become a brat when they don’t – I admit it. I can’t let it rest until they’ve nailed me, and I’ve won.
I climb up onto the hood, on my knees in front of you. You switch on the wipers. Ah, good, a fucking reaction at last. I can see you inside the car. You have your dick out – I can tell from your hand movements that you’re jerking off at the sight of my drenched teenage body. I run my hands across my tits and pull on them, as if my nipples could get any bigger. One hand snakes down to my shaved pussy, as the rain slips and oozes across my skin. God, it feels good. It’s like a power shower, but better. Because I’m lapdancing on your car, baby. In front of hundreds of passing cars. They can’t see me properly because of the storm, but I can see and hear them going by. So close, but oblivious. It’s a rush.
I slide two fingers into my puss and find my clit with my thumb. My eyes are on you, and your eyes are on my pussy. The wipers flick across your vision, but you never leave the sight of me frigging myself for you in the rain. I can bring myself off real quick with my fingers. I’m a nasty little bitch at the best of times, and when I have an audience I’m even hotter. No sound but the roar of the rain and the traffic. No sight but you, behind the wipers. No feeling but the water stinging my body, whipping it. And my cum, rising up from the pit of my stomach.
I press hard on my clit, to push me to the point of no return. Oh shit, here it comes. I pull my fingers out of my cunt and spank my pussy. Quick, hard slaps against my pussy lips and across my clit. That does it, like it always does. The cum shoots up and all around my body. I can feel myself tensing, the blood slide from my head down to my cunt, and I arch back, screaming. Amid the explosive rush of my orgasm, I can feel the rain smacking me in the face, over and over. It heightens the rush, and I go into a prolonged one, continual little waves sweeping across my pussy and making me shudder. I clench my fists each time the wave passes, and arch back further. Oooooohhhhhhh that was soooo fucking good.
I shout at you, even though I know you can’t hear me. With my fingers pressing on my clit, on my knees on the hood of your car, I know you can get the basics of what I’m saying.
“Oooohhh fuuuuuckkkk yeeeaahh. Oh shit, I gotta cum some more. Come on baby, get outta that fucking car and gimme that dick. Come on, punish me for being such a fucking slut. Get out here and abuse this little fucking whore. I need it, baby. I need that big cock they all talk about. Get your ass out here and rape mine. Come on, honey, I fucking need you splitting me in two.”
I open my eyes to the sound of your door opening. The rain’s still crashing down, it’s still semi dark, and the traffic is whooshing by ten yards away. The sound of the rain makes it impossible to hear anything you say, but I can take a guess. Something like horny fucking bitch, sick little cunt, going to ram this up your fucking ass, something like that. The look on your face, and the size of your dick, means I can take a pretty good guess.
I slide off the hood, and drop to my knees out of instinct. A slutty little whore’s instincts. And only eighteen years old, too. However did I learn all that?