"This god damn fucking car!" I said to no one in particular. It just felt good to say it. We had been driving for over nine hours and I was just about at my limit for fuck ups. The air conditioning only seemed to worked for about 15 minutes per hour, and this hour's fifteen had just ended. I lowered the driver side window.
Even though it was still morning and we were getting to higher elevation is was still unbearably hot. I looked over at Loren in the seat beside me. She had been sleeping ever since the sun came up five hours ago. She had the seat reclined and she was using her wadded up dress as a pillow. She was wearing only a gray cotton t shirt that she had pulled out of my back pack and the black lace panties from the night before. She had long ago abandoned her bra, silk stockings and high heeled shoes out the window as we drove over the bay bridge.
She looked incredibly sexy in the filtered sunlight. The soft gray fabric was stretched taut over her firm breasts and I could see the outline of her nipples showing. As hot as it was I wondered how her nipples could be that hard. I hoped that perhaps she was dreaming of my lips sucking on them.
Her arms were raised over her head and that pulled the shirt up high on her hips. Did I say she was sexy? I loved looking at her like this. Her thighs were silky soft and creamy white. I knew just how they would feel against my cheeks if I placed my face there because only 24 hours ago that's exactly where I had been.
Yesterday morning we had stayed in bed all morning. We had found our own small piece of nirvana, which consisted of long rounds of sex interspersed with periods of slumber and a few moments where we fed each other the strawberries and wine we had bought the night before. Finally we made love slowly and passionately until the hotel maid threatened to call hotel security if we didn't leave.
As if she was reading my mind, her right hand rose and she brushed her fingertips across her left breast. Her lips parted and it seemed as if she was going to say something. If she did the sound was obliterated by the noise of the wind rushing past the open window at 90 miles per hour. She shifted in her seat and the shirt was pulled tighter across her chest. I couldn't help myself. I reached over and placed my right hand over her left breast.
A welcome shiver went through me as I felt the firm softness under my outstretched fingers. I could feel the erect nipple below my palm. After eight hours of gripping a steering wheel the softness felt exotic, sexy and amazing. I began to relax a little, the first time since the awful events of the night before in L.A. I started to think that maybe we might make it.
I started to feel that familiar stirring in my jeans as I slowly started to massage her tit. Loren always made fun of my juvenile fascination with her boobs but underneath the humor I know that she enjoyed it. We had not been able to spend many nights together but it did not take her long to discover that laying my head on her chest was a sure way to get me to relax when it was time to sleep, and to get me hard any other time.
I felt the compressor kick in again and cool air started to blow from the vents in the old BMW 740 we were driving. I rolled up the window and the silence that followed was another welcome relief. She stirred under my hand and her eyes fluttered open.
"Hey babe," she whispered. She placed her hand over mine on her chest. "Do we have any water?"
I reluctantly slid my hand from under hers and reached back behind her seat and retrieved the half-filled bottle of Evian. As she drank she pushed the lever that brought her seat into an upright position and she curled her feet under her as she sat up straight. I could see that there were still red stains on her ankles and shins. It was a grim reminder that what happened last night was not just an awful nightmare.
"Where are we?" she asked, looking out the window at our surroundings for the first time.
"We are about an hour from Mt. Shasta," I replied.
