It was the weekend I invited my boyfriend – at the time – to my home to meet my mother. It was summertime, a few weeks before I had to return to campus to start up sophomore year. He had made a good impression on my family and I had set about introducing him to whichever friends still remained in my hometown. One of them was her. 

I was a bit reticent to introduce him to Elle. She and I were certainly now on a friendly basis, sometimes a bit too friendly. I was worried they wouldn’t get along. I thought she would bite his face off, frankly. She’s a bit of a spitfire. But, she had heard that he was in town and offered to have the three of us go out to dinner.

They hit it off almost instantly. They just jived so well with each other. I just sat there breathing this huge sigh of relief as they laughed up a storm. I was content to take the third wheel on this one. It was almost comforting.

She had driven to reduce gas and I had left my car at her place. As set off to head back after a really pleasant dinner, I elected to take the backseat with my boyfriend. We all kept up conversation as she drove towards the highway and stopped at a stoplight. This was when the trouble started.

He and I had been planning a game all that weekend where he would reach down and rub me whenever we hit a red light. This was pretty normal in the car just the two of us and I could manage to keep a poker-face as I waited for the light to change. Confessedly, I almost drove right off the road when the light changed during a drive to get lunch earlier that day, but it was mostly a fairly “safe” endeavor. 

But in the car with my ex-girlfriend? I tensed up when I felt his hand snake over to me. My eyes begged him not to. It was too weird. She would kick us out of the car. Why had I worn a skirt that day?

I went to slap his hand away and tried to keep quiet until I noticed she was tilting her rearview mirror in order to be able to see what was going on in the back. I caught her face in it. She was smiling. Oh no. This was worse than the awkward interaction that I had predicted would come about at dinner. Her dominant instincts were coming out and she was getting such a kick out of this.

The light changed and he moved his hand away. She chuckled, merging onto the highway and heading back toward our town. “Sorry, dear,” she cooed into the back.

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest in mock upset. I was trying to keep this cheeky, funny. I was hoping the joke was over and that we wouldn’t be getting into anything too…weird.  

He laughed and put his hand back down, starting to rub at my clit through my panties. I looked up at him and shook my head, pleading with my eyes for him to just stop. I knew if I opened my mouth to talk to him, I’d just start moaning. He had a way with his hands. It was astounding. 

“I don’t know why you’re so ungrateful, Ivy,” Elle said from the front seat, “I seem to remember a certain girl who begged for it all the time in the car.” She glanced back quickly at my boyfriend, “she once got herself off with my vibrator while I drove her home. I wouldn’t drop her off until she came." 

To say that I have trouble orgasming when I have a goal is an understatement. Any metaphor that I could make for how much I was blushing would also probably be an understatement. 

He was beaming like a champ. My legs were shaking, my body was responding eagerly to his touch. I was so humiliated, yet so aroused from it. I couldn’t believe she was playing along with him and vice-versa. I didn’t expect them to hit it off socially. But sexually? This was almost porno-level interaction. 

He stopped before I came and gave my pussy a little pat. It was a typical gloating move of his and I groaned in frustration. I realized my back had sunk down in the seat and I was basically spread out. I was covered in goosebumps, I was embarrassed, I just wanted to orgasm. 

I noticed Elle was taking the long way home and huffed. "May I please cum?” I couldn’t believe I was saying it in her car.

“What do you think?” he asked, looking up at Elle. Suddenly, she veered off course and pulled into the parking lot of a playground we were about to pass. It was dark out and no one was there, thankfully. 

She pulled the car in a way that it faced the road and the other vehicles that sped by. I instinctively reached to pull my skirt back down and he slapped my hand away. 

“Nah,” she smirked as she turned off the car. “I think someone has miles to go.”

To be continued.