When The Engineer and I visited Ireland this summer, I had my heart set on taking a ferry out to the Aran Islands and renting bicycles. We didn’t know how long it would take us to drive to the ferry terminal in the morning, so we arrived early; sitting in the car, waiting for boarding time to come and not wanting to go out earlier than we had to on a very windy day, we started kissing to stay warm.
The Engineer has these super luscious lips; he uses an obscene amount of chapstick, which means they’re always soft. On this particular morning, as he was kissing me – long, lingering kisses – I started thinking about the way his lips feel brushing against my labia, and suddenly my cunt felt slippery and warm. When I told him as much, he took it as an invitation and unbuttoned my jeans, sliding his hand down the front and into my cotton panties; he rhythmically glided his fingers up and over my clit, then down and into my cunt juuust a little bit. As he continued to touch me slowly and steadily – just the way I like it – the windows started to steam up, and I leaned into his touch.
Several people passed by; our car was right in the middle of the car park, and I had zero fucks to give. I got up on my knees on the passenger seat and put my hand on his shoulder, grinding into his huge hand and begging him not to stop. The part of my brain that says “Have an orgasm now AT ALL COSTS” completely ignored the time and the people walking to and fro all around the car until I felt myself tipping over and gushing onto his hand; still kissing him, I breathed my climax into him and gripped his shoulder tight. When I looked around the car to see all the windows completely fogged up, I laughed and thought, “Well, at least we’re not completely visible.”
We did make it to the ferry on time, only to find out that the waves were too high for it to run that day; fine by us, we said, and held hands on the way back to the car, chatting about potential ways to occupy our time.