Finger fucked at 70 MPH
Part 2 of Crusty Cock.... is coming soon. I've had a new adventure since then so enjoy!
On a whim I instant messaged D-Mac. He’s a pal of mine that worked at the same company as me when I was working on that World War II documentary. Remember back then? Gees, that must have been June something.
D-Mac is totally cool. He’s my drinking buddy. He’s also good friends with CS (my ex-boss married tranny) but that’s neither here nor there. D-Mac a genuine guy.
I’ve started work on a new programme. It’s a three part series about video games. My research means I get to try out lots of games. Not just the latest video games, but games old school ones as well. This week I spent hours playing Pac Man on an Atari 2600 then I jumped to playing Zelda on the Wii.. Played some BurgerTime on Intellivision followed my one of my all time faves Super Mario Brothers which I STILL cannot beat. Next I went onto the Turbo Grafx system playing J.B. Harold Murder Club. Then I tried some Gallega on the BBC Micro. So yeah, it’s been a good week. I love doing “research.”
I have another few weeks of “research” to do then I’m doing some pre-interviews of a few gamers that may be in the series. It’s a lot of fun so far. MUCH MUCH better than that fucking World War II doc. So yeah I’m having a good time and I can’t believe they’re paying twice as much as the World War II doc. It’s like money for old rope (I just learned that saying the other day, btw).
I’ve had to do a lot of this research outside London. There’s a software company that has a backlog of most of the British and American old school video game consoles. So I’ve been coming here for the past week for my “research.”
Every day I drive past the old workplace where I was doing the WWII doc. So on a whim I instant messaged D-Mac and asked if he were drinking after work. He wasn’t planning on it, but said that he would get a few people together.
After my hardcore “research” yesterday I picked up the dog from the crèche and drove back to the old broadcast company where I used to work. I found a parking spot relatively close to the pub where I used to drink. I felt somewhat reminiscent. God, I spent so munch time (and money) in that pub. I used to ALWAYS be in the pub after work. Now that I’ve moved jobs several times I don’t feel that I’ve formed any close bonds with new people I work with. I miss the old place. I miss my old buddies. As much as I hated working on that documentary, I had a fantastic time working with the people there. I do sometimes wonder if I should have stayed there. Is it worth doing a job you hate because you love the people?
The French have this fantastic way of saying I miss you. Vous me manqué. That literally translates to. “You are missing from me.” And that describes precisely how I feel. I don’t miss the people I used to work with. They are missing from me. There’s part of me that isn’t the same because I no longer see them on a daily basis.
The slightly good news is that one of the cameramen I used to work with there is now working with me on video game documentary. And there’s also a sound engineer who’s there as well. Familiar faces are always nice.
I walked into my old stomping grounds and saw D-Mac at the end of the table. There was also Eagle Eye’s girlfriend. She is such an amazing person. There was my old drinking buddy. You know, the one who sent me his pic in response to my gumtree ad. {link} Then sitting next to D-Mac was CS. Shit.
That was jarring. I honestly had not expected him to be there. First of all we agreed not to speak to each other for six months. Secondly, every drinks night I’ve been to since I left the company he was not there. CS’s wife has him on a tight leash. He always has to be home at a certain time. He always has to have his phone on him. I think I see who wears the pants in that family. Ha! I just realized how funny that is given his situation – the thing about the pants that is. Anyhow, so in order for him to be out later than 7:00 PM he need s a green card from his wife. Not a green card in the American sense. But green card in the sense that he has a green light to stay out for a while. It seems rare that he gets a green card. Or sometimes he’s travelling to Prague for work.
So I was just plain shocked to see him. The good thing was, that actually wearing the sweater / jumper and skirt that he loves. He says it his favourite outfit of mine. I was wearing a pink cashmere sweater / jumper. It was tight-fitting. You could faintly see the outline of my pink Victoria’s Secret bra underneath. I was wearing a pink & mauve coloured tiered peasant skirt. {pic}. (Weird that some random person has a picture of my skirt on the net, eh?)
We didn’t talk initially. I didn’t make eye contact with him. I couldn’t make eye contact with him. I honestly didn’t know what to say. Perhaps, “How’s life been since our public cunnilingus session?”
Luckily, I had my dog with me. She’s a great ice-breaker. Sadly, the dog was constipated and had the worst gas. Her farts were deadly. Well, at least that’s ice breaker as well.
I talked to CS a bit in the pub. Obviously we couldn’t talk about ‘us’ but he kept asking me, “So how are you?” And I kept answering, “I’m really good thanks.”
He seemed to get along with my dog and my dog seemed to get along with him. Actually, my dog got along with everyone. I love how people fawn over her.
CS started a conversation about Aussie Rules Football. Boring. He droned on and on and. I zoned out. He started drunkenly singing the Australian National Anthem. The dog was getting restless. He had the farts. I just felt like I had to leave. So around 9:00 I packed up my things and left.
Before I left CS asked me twice if I wanted a drink. He was standing alone at the bar. I had to walk past him to exit the pub. He just sort of looked at me with some longing. It was the look of lust. The sort of look that said, “Leaving so soon?”
In a way, I wanted to stay; stay and see if something developed. On the other hand I felt that CS was soooooooo 2006. I don’t want to bring shit from 2006 into 2007.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“Um, yeah. The dog’s restless.”
“See ya.”
“Yeah, see ya, whenever.”
It was an awkward exit. It shouldn’t have been. I guess it was. I felt somehow that I should give him a hug before I left, but all his colleagues were here. Didn’t seem right.
I took the dog outside. Her farts were really bad. I took her to the grassy knoll next to the bar and just stood there waiting for her to poop. He kept sniffing around looking for the perfect spot. I realized that a half hour had gone by and she was still sniffing around and had not pooped.
I found myself looking at the pub door. Waiting and hoping that CS would come out.
Finally I was so cold I hopped in my car. I have a 2-seater. A Mazda MX (Mazda Miata for all you Americans). I sat in the car a further half hour and finally he came out.
I beeped my horn. He looked over.
“You want a ride to the station?” I asked.
“What are you doing here? I thought you left.”
“I was waiting for the dog to poop. And I was talking on the phone.”
“Oh? Ok, yeah, to the station.”
I threw the dog bed in the area behind the seat. I put the dog in his lap.
“Which station?” I asked him
“T.C.R.”
“That’s so close. What overland station do you need to go to?”
“Waterloo.”
“Then lets go there.”
He grabs my Sat Nav. He seems a bit too drunk to work it. He however doesn’t seem more drunk than when I usually see him. He maps out a route to Edinburgh. He then declares that we should do something spontaneous and crazy. This seems uncharacteristic of his personality to make such a declaration. So I one-up him and say that we should drive to Guilford.
“That’s far from here you know.”
“I know,” I say with a devilish glint in my eyes.
As I’m driving I’m reaching for his cock. He’s wearing jeans. My hand cups over his jeans by his bulge.
“Unzip it.” I demand.
“No. Oh no. That’s a very bad idea.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t unzip his jeans. But I’m patient as I know we have all the way to Guilford to go.
After driving out of central London with hit a highway. I’m not sure which one. The highway is completely deserted. There’s hardly anyone else driving on it. I’m doing 45 MPH.
I’m distracted because I’m feeling for CS’s cock. He reaches behind my back and attempts to put his hand on my butt. He’s slightly constrained by my pantyhose. He soon decides to reach around front.
He pulled his hand from behind me. He reached up my pink skirt and worked his way down my pantyhose. He fingers my clit and it feels SO good. He moves his faster and faster.
“Now do 70,” he demands, “If you don’t do at least 70 I’m going to stop fingering you.”
I open my legs wide, slouch slightly in my seat and mash my foot on the gas pedal. He moves his finger into my cunt and begins finger fucking me.
“Jesus, you so wet!”
I’m getting really worked up. I start breathing heavily. He gets turns on even more. I hold the steering wheel with one hand and reach for his cock with my other hand.
He gets really into it. He nuzzles my shoulder in a really cute and vulnerable way. I feel almost like I should hold him.
I need to pull over. I look for a deserted shoulder. All the shoulders a filled with trucks / lorries. We drive a bit further but then we suddenly arrive at our exit. Luckily right near the exit there’s a restaurant with a deserted parking lot. I pull into the lot and find the most secluded spot there. Unfortunately it’s next to a dumpster but that was the least of my worries.
As soon as we pull over we put the dog in the back. I lift up my skirt pull down my panty hose. I unbuckle his belt. I pull down his pants. The car is so small it’s difficult to manoeuvre around. I can’t even bend forward and give him head.
As I pull his cock out he says, “Not matter what happens DON’T let me cum. If I cum it’s cheating. If I don’t it’s not.”
What sort of fucked up logic is that? It’s all cheating. I wasn’t, however, prepared to debate this giving my current state of horniess.
I feel his cock. It no longer feels crusty. It now feels leather-like. Huh? What’s going on down there?
He continues to finger fuck me. Then he tells me that he wants to eat me. I LOVE MEN WHO LOVE EATING PUSSY! He slips his finger in my mouth so that I’m sucking up my own juices.
He dives nose first into my pussy. He licks my clit while putting one finger in my ass and another finger in my cunt.
The finger in my arse feels surprisingly good. There’s something about having a little backdoor pressure.
It does feel a bit creepy as the dog starts licking my hand at the same time.
I tell him that I want him to wear my pink skirt and fuck me.
I cum uncontrollably. I cum three times and he wants to lick me out more. I have to push him away to get him to stop. I was sooooo satisfied that I didn’t care that he didn’t fuck me.
I wanted to reciprocate by going down on him, but he wouldn’t let me. He got out of the car. The dog jumped out after him. He lit a cigarette.
“Shit I am in so much trouble! What time is it?” He asks?
“What time were you supposed to be home?”
“9.”
I checked my watch, “It’s 12:30.”
“Shit.”
“What am I going to tell my wife.”
“Tell her your battery died.”
“That’s too big of a lie to tell!”
“It’s believable.”
“I know. I’ll tell her that D-Mac turned my phone off.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. Shit!”
He finished his cigarette. We embrace.
“Hey. It’ll be okay,” I say. I didn’t totally believe that. At the same time I didn’t totally care. Now that I’ve cum he’s not my problem.
I drop him off at a mini cab place close to his house.
We kiss quickly. He hops out of the car. He waves good-bye.
My dog growls slightly, but I think that means she misses him.
Labels: cheating married guys, CS, Doggums, finger fucked, hand job, MX5, oral sex, tranny
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