"Hey babe, I've gotta go out of town for a few days. Can you drop me off at the airport?" The husky voice at the other end of the phone asked me.
"Sure Sweetie, just let me know when." I reply, too caught up in "Bones" to really think about what he was asking.
"Great, I knew I could count on you. My flight leaves at 6AM, so I'll need to get there at about 4. I'll come pick you up around 3:30 and you can drive my car back. See you then!" And he hung up.
Half an hour later, it finally sinks in and I let out of stream of curses at him and myself for not paying attention. That is, until I realize that I've been given a perfect opportunity to engage in one of our favorite pastimes. The wheels begin to turn as I gather my "equipment"...
I take a brief nap to prepare myself for my long day (I still have to go to work after I drop him off), then grab a quick shower and get dressed. True to form, he's there right at 3:30. Obviously tired, he pays absolutely no attention to my outfit, which is exactly how I want it. Giving me a quick hug, he mumbles, "Thanks again, babe," and heads out the door.
Opening the passenger side door, he waits patiently as I get myself situated. It's not till he's in his seat on the driver's side and about to pull off that he finally picks up on what I'm wearing. "Wow, a mini-skirt and heels? You know how I love you in that! Gonna be hard to tear my eyes away from those legs of yours and drive. But what's up with the sweat-jacket?"
"Thought I might get chilly in the night air. Turn the heat on and you'll see what I've got on under here..." I said, with a devilish grin.
"Hmmmm...sounds like a real treat. Let me crank this thing all the way up."
"Patience, Lover...good things come to those that wait" As I said this, I pulled the zipper on my hoodie down a couple of inches to give him a peek of cleavage. I know this man, and the only thing that turns him on more than my legs, are my Double-D's. True to form, he reaches over and tries to pull the zipper down the rest of the way, but I swat his hand away and tell him to stop. Looking like a scolded little boy, he puts his hand in his lap and starts driving. I smile to myself, knowing I have him exactly where I want him.
After a few minutes of silence, I reach across myself with my right hand and lay it on his thigh, near his crotch. Caught off guard, he jumps slightly, but recovers and keeps his eyes on the road. "Still mad at me?" I ask, the picture of innocence. "No answer...I guess you must be. Have to see what I can do to get you "un-mad.""
Unfastening my seat belt, I edge myself closer to him, using my hand to rub his crotch through his pants. At first he tries to push me away, but when he saw that I wasn't going anywhere, he put both hands on the wheel and let me do what I wanted to do.
Finding and cradling his balls gently with my left hand, I used my right to undo his zipper so that his magnificent cock could be released into view. Soon, with a little diligence, I opened his pants completely. Reaching in, I fished out my prize: nine inches of beautiful ebony steel. Growing evermore hard in my hand, I watched it rise to its full glory. It was the color of dark, rich chocolate, with thick veins running the length of the shaft, capped with a fat helmet, a puffy monster that has tickled my G-spot on many nights.