Ignoring the Signs (Circa 1978) - Sex Stories

Ignoring the Signs (Circa 1978)

... panic and a frustrated curse as she searched inside her handbag for her phallic friend, a sigh, a shuffle and a wiggle, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she inserted ‘Trap 2,’ inside her anal passage. There were times when Heathers fitness and compulsive needs proved to be more of a marathon of endurance than a quick fuck in the back seat of a car. Shifting her weight on the seat, straddling his thighs and placing both knees on each side of his hips, his back pressed hard against the cool vinyl seat, bouncing up and down, lifting and lowering, easing him in and easing him out, all the way in and all the way out, lifting and lowering, fucking with the stamina of an Olympic athlete, her pendulous tits swinging recklessly from side to side, up and down, wriggling and twisting, grinding and thrusting, easing him into her body, every movement executed with feline dexterity, holding him tight in pubic capture, prolonging the moment, squeezing his cock in a vice-like grip, the liquid heat of passion spilling from the burning inferno between her legs, an outpouring of sweat running in rivers from their naked bodies, gathering in pools of pleasure on the vinyl seat. The movement of interaction gathered speed, a shameful voice turning to full volume, her use of the carnal vocabulary always impressive, a running commentary of curses and obscenities spilling from tight lips, moans and groans, blissful cries and screams of euphoria smothered under the perpetual echoes of ...

... filth resonating inside the metal enclosure. "Oh my God! Oh God! Fuck me! Fuck me faster! Fuck me harder! Fuck the arse off this cock sucking bitch!" she demanded, her dignity evaporating in the heat of passion, her pleas for Gods help accompanied by a shameful outburst of sinful language never gaining his approval. A sudden movement and a creaking groan, the intimacy momentarily broken, shuffling uncomfortably on the seat, brushing condensation from the glass and pressing her forehead against the steamy window, blinking her eyes and trying to focus in the darkness. “Fuck!” She screamed, her eyes lighting up like two flood lamps. “The fucking cars moving down the embankment,” she cursed, desperately searching the floor for clothing. He couldn’t remember the last time he moved so fast. Two people colliding in a tangled chaos of urgency and confusion, grabbing her arm and pushing her aside, jumping from the back seat with the speed of a gazelle, trying to squeeze his body through the tight gap between the two front seats, searching frantically for the handbrake, trying to grab the steering wheel, trying to grab anything. “Please let the tide be out...Please not in the fucking sea.” the mantra repeated inside his head, as the car gathered momentum, rocking and swaying with the uneven terrain, throwing them against the doors and windscreen like a couple of rag-dolls, the wheels colliding with a solid object, throwing it sideways into an unrelenting roll down the embankment, crashing ...