They sat together in the car, the conversation desultory, neither one really paying any attention to it, discussing inane things like the weather and if the other enjoyed their job. She was of medium height, about 5'2", obviously of Italian descent, with chocolate-brown eyes and ash-brown hair, the description of a milf if ever there was one: dressed in a light white-and-yellow sundress, childbearing had filled out her already generous hips and behind, and nursing had engorged her breasts from their previous generous C-cup to a full DD. Hard work at her pole-dancing class had won back her trim waist and belly, something she was very proud of. He too was of middling height, around 5'7", but broad across the chest and shoulder for his height. Dressed in black slacks and a blue button-down shirt, he was sufficiently fit to not be considered out of shape, though still with a hint of dad-belly at his waist, his copper-tinted short-cropped brown hair was paired with a red beard that complimented his blue and green eyes nicely.
Talking still, the conversation was slowing, with longer and longer pauses between each speaker responding. They both knew where the evening was going to end, but they both still harboured hopes of it going in a different direction. He could still get of the car and go home to his girlfriend; she could still leave and drive home to her family. But they knew, deep down, that the stage was set, the script, already written.
Billy Joel's "Shameless" came on the radio, and to his refrains of helpless infatuation, their poor attempt at conversation slowly stopped. They looked at each other, just looked, gazing into each other's eyes. Without realising, they began leaning in, closer and closer. His left forearm leaned on the console armrest between them, and, as if of its own volition, his right came up and gently caressed her face, pulling her ash-brown tresses back from her face, tucking the hair behind her ear as he used to do so many years ago. She closed her eyes at his touch, turning her face into his hand, reflexively reaching up with her own left hand to hold his hand against her face. She kissed his palm, gently, and his left hand grabbed her right arm, the passion beginning to rise in them both.
Suddenly she gasped, almost a sob, yanking his hand from her face and holding it down.
"We-" she said, just as he said "I-".
Talking right on top of each other, they both stopped, looking down in embarrassment and shame. But it was too late. In her haste to take his hand from her face, she had placed it on her thigh, right at the top of her lap, and she suddenly became aware of where his hand was, practically on top of her womanhood. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut, biting her lip, trying to keep herself from pressing his hand into her, giving a tiny, almost inaudible whimper from trying to not rise up into his hand on her.
He realized where his hand was at the same moment she did, suddenly aware of the incredible heat pouring from her, which his hand was resting directly beside. He breathed deeply, inhaling through his nose, and realised he could smell her, the car serving to contain the smell of her arousal, amplifying it. Reflexively, unconsciously, his hands flexed, his left squeezing her arm in its grip, his right squeezing her upper thigh through the light summer dress, digging his thumb into the crease between her leg and her nethers.
She moaned again, out loud this time. He looked up to her face, and saw her half-lidded eyes staring at him with a heat inside them that he knew he couldn't resist, falling into them, leaning in, his right hand continuing to massage her as she used her left hand now to pull his arm towards her, pushing his thumb into the crease of her centre, and her right hand reached out to his neck, pulling him closer, mouth open, gasping for air like she'd run a marathon.
He felt her hand reach around behind his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. He gasped himself, getting another lungfull of her scent permeating the air, pungent and erotic, the heady aroma overwhelming any remaining capacity for reason he might have had. Closing his eyes, he pulled her towards him with his left hand, and kissed her, hard, tongue darting between his lips to meet hers darting out from own mouth. His right hand clenched, drawing the light fabric of her summer dress up her leg, her left still pulling his hand into her.
Kissing still, eyes closed, their hands began to move almost as of their own volition. She brought her left hand up to his face to join her right, holding his mouth to hers as if her life depended on his breath. His right hand slipped under her sundress, while his left released her arm and began pulling the dress up her back, tugging it from under her. She began to unbutton his shirt, never looking at what she was doing, her eyes still closed in their breathless kiss. He continued to pull her dress from under her, while his right hand turned palm up and began to slip between her legs. Moaning eagerly into their kiss, she scooted her bottom up and spread her legs as much as could in the limited confines around the steering wheel. His left hand immediately finished pulling her dress from under her, and reaching under it, began caressing her bare back. His right hand, having been granted access by her spread legs, began to firmly but languorously massage her cleft through her moist panties. She continued unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and proceeding to try unbuckle his belt. Her hands brushed his member as she worked at the stiff leather, and he groaned into her mouth. Pausing her work for moment, she caressed the length of him through his pants, and broke their kiss long enough to gasp, "Get it out. Please, God, take out your cock," leaning her forehead against his as she rubbed at him through the thin material if his slacks. Not saying anything, just kissing her again, he proceeded to quickly flip back the length of leather and unhook it, slipping it out of the metal buckle and unbuttoning his pants, before her own hands brushed his out of the way and yanked down his zipper, pulling him out of his underwear and wrapping both her small hands around his length, fingers barely meeting around his girth.
"God it's even bigger than I remember." she breathed against his mouth, faces leaned in and caressing each other's cheeks.