Backseat Loving

I hadn't had sex in a car since high school. With the advent of supporting myself, I had my own house with my own bed and no prying parents. Since then, the excitement of being crammed and writhing in a backseat on the side of an empty road or in a dark parking lot had faded from my sex life. Yet I was feeling nostalgic, thinking of the first time he had ever been inside me.

I wanted to recapture that feeling of breaking the rules, the way we felt when we were both so foreign to each other and didn't yet know exactly what we were doing. I wanted to take us back to a place we had been.

But I had to surprise him. We had become so wrapped up in our current life, our adult relationship. Impulsive, potentially illegal sex had given way to a shared residence and a small drawer of sex toys. We had become safe, comfortable, and complacent.

Of course, we were adults now. We wouldn't need to "rough it" in discomfort for lack of other options. I prepared my little kit and stashed it beneath his seat. It hid suggestively and secretly below his unsuspecting ass as I maneuvered the car down forgotten roads.

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Every town has them; the Lovers' Lanes, the deserted overlooks, the automotive corners for semi-public sex. As I steered the car towards our old parking spot, the memories began to flood over me. I remembered the first time he put his sweet lips to my throbbing clit. I recalled the feeling of him pushing gently inside me for the first time. My skin tingled with the anxious excitement of knowing we were driving out to get laid.

"What are we doing here?" he asked confused.

I didn't answer him. I simply leaned my body over the familiar gear shift between us and pressed my lips to his. I kissed him hard, sloppily, hungrily. His question dissolved into the wet sounds of our mouths moving together. His hands began to explore my curves, almost timidly, as if he had not felt them every day for years. He regressed beneath my touch into the adolescent who first seduced me so recklessly.

I reached between his legs to reveal my surprise, and we climbed into the backseat. It was still cramped; still uncomfortable, but exciting. My heart jumped each time passing headlights swept over the roof of the car. My pussy clenched with his every touch. He had not forgotten how to play my body.

Pinned down on the small seat, legs crunched up against my body, head pressed into the side of the car, I lay moaning below him. I writhed in limited space as he filled me. Our breath, our sounds filled the car, turning it into a sauna of our sex. He hit his head; my arm fell asleep. We laughed at ourselves into orgasm. His every touch was familiar yet simultaneously unknown as it had once been in another backseat. For an orgasmic minute, we were the sexy youths we had started out as, only having much better sex in a more luxurious car.

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