After our second wild night of sex, Sandy and I agreed to cancel our other arrangements, dump one rental car and spend the rest of our holiday together. We agreed an itinerary but that it was not to be cast in stone – if we were having real fun (by which we meant 'fun' in the enjoying oneself sense and 'fun' in the having sex sense!) we'd stay wherever we were until we had the urge to move on.
After breakfast, we ditched Sandy's car and set off for the long drive up to and through Death Valley, up over the Sierras to Lone Pine and on up to Yosemite where I had booked a cabin. It was early March, warm in Vegas and still snow up in Yosemite but I had been assured the roads were passable and that there were no problems.
I drove and we had not gone far before Sandy's hand found my zip, eased it down slowly and reached inside to free my hard, throbbing, cock.
"Hmm," she whispered approvingly, "Don't need to do any work on him, do I? Solid as a rock. Who's got a huge hard-on then?" she teased. "Does Max want Sandy to play with his rod? Does he want her to make it all cross so it spits out all that lovely, sticky, white cum?"
"You bloody know I do," I growled.
"Temper, temper," she laughed. "Sandy won't play if Max gets cross." She let go of me and ferreted in her purse for a second or two. "Well, think you'll like this. Sandy's feeling generous and horny as hell."
I felt her hand lightly grip my throbbing tool but this time it was moist and greasy. The trip into the purse had been to grease her hand with, well, I didn't know what but it sure felt fantastic. She kept me going for mile after mile,– bringing me close to shooting my load then changing the movement of her fingers so that I didn't. My jeans were soaked with pre-cum that had dribbled down my rod and through her fingers. We were on the way down into Death Valley by the time I bellowed, "For God's sake, Sandy, let me come this time! I can't take any more."
She let go of me and I thought, "Hell, the bitch is going to leave it at that!" I was wrong. She looked at me and smiled.
"Didn't think I was going to waste it, did you? Let it go into a tissue and throw it in the next trashcan we come across." She stretched across the car and I felt her lips close round my glans, her tongue gently caressing it, searching for the spot that would make me come within seconds of her finding it. It was seconds as I exploded into her mouth and felt her gulp it all down. She sucked my clean and dry, eased me back into my pants and slid the zip up.
She sat up and laughed. "There, I've had lunch! What are you going to have for your lunch?"
"I'll think of something," I joked. "You'll have to wait and see what."
She reclined the seat, leant back and closed her eyes. Her legs were slightly apart and her already short skirt had ridden up so that if I leant forward I could see her enticing, scanty, white silk lace G-string. My hand reached over – no preliminaries, straight to the white lace shadowed by the wisps of black curls beneath. The lace was warm and sodden and, as my fingers touched the cloth, so was her skirt. I looked round at her: her eyes stayed tightly closed but her lips parted in a welcoming, contented, smile.
She took a deep breath, her delicious breasts rose, threatening to burst free from her skimpy bra and the tight T-shirt, and exhaled very slowly, a barely audible, "Hmm, Sandy likes that, she likes it a lot! Think you can finger my clit all the way to Yosemite? Hope so!" Her smile widened and her eyes met mine, diluted funereal pupils half-arising from closed eyes and half from eagerly anticipating my fingers finding her clit. "Maybe if you're good, I'll let you kiss it, my clit I mean, when we get inside the cabin," she teased. "Would you enjoy that?" Her eyes closed and she tossed her head back and forth until it settled in a comfortable position. "OK maestro, get to work on my crotch, pleeeeeeeeze!"
I inched the lace aside and quickly found her firm, succulent, little pink clit. As my fingers gently toyed with it, her hips gently gyrated and her legs parted wide. Soft moans fell from her lightly closed lips, spread into a contented smile. I slowly eased a finger into her cunt, it slid in so easily, almost as if she had sucked it in. For the next few miles, I gently eased it in and out, increasing the pace but to no more than a rhythmic "in – out – in – out."
