Last weekend my boyfriend and I journeyed to visit my mom and dad in their natural habitat (a.k.a. my old homestead), and although in Toronto I am an independent, slightly cheeky, sexual woman, going back home can instantly morph me into the girl of my childhood – a sweet, overly-willing to please, virgin-baby.
Naturally this puts my boyfriend on edge because he is used to normal Lauren and gets whacked out young-adolescent Lauren for the duration of the weekend. Tensions around this normally start to fester as soon as I announce we’ll be making a visit home and they reach an all-time high in our tiny car as we draw forever closer to our destination. Cue my idea to put us on good footing for the weekend ahead:
“Honey, do you want a blowjob?”
“While you’re driving?”
“I was thinking we’d pull over. Do you want to?”
“Um… YES. Where can we pull over?”
“I have no idea.”
At that moment we pass a sign informing us the next exit is #69 (I pinky swear I am not making this up). Taking this as an approving nod from the sex gods, we make the exit and find a perfect secluded spot beside the highway to git-er’-done.
After taking the elastics off my braces (sexy), I lean over to do my duty and am surprised to find myself REALLY into it. I don’t know if it’s my particular mood or the risky surroundings, but this is the first BJ I’ve given in months that gets me super hot and heavy.
“Wanna do it – for real?” I ask after he comes.
“Was that not real enough for you?”
“I mean – want to have sex?”
“YES! Just give me a minute…”
Now, if any of you have tried having sex in a ’96 Cavalier before, you know it’s not for the faint of heart. But welcoming the challenge I manage to sit sideways on my boyfriend (who is still buckled in the passenger seat) and bounce up and down to achieve desired results. Sure I get a bit dizzy from hitting my head on the roof an uncountable number of times but, as both him and I agree, the light-headiness is definitely worth it. We cum together and, after using leftover lunch napkins from subway to freshen myself up down there (I’m pretty sure I smelled like an assorted sub the rest of the day), I shimmy back to the drivers side of the car.
Needless to say my boyfriend didn’t find that car trip home as painful as anticipated, and it helped both of us stay more relaxed and in the moment during the weekend. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a sweet, overly-willing to please, virgin-baby around mom and dad – but Rome wasn’t built in a day my friends. Sex in the car 50km from home today, swapping sex stories with mom and dad tomorrow.