RE: A Day Trip for Work

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“Do you think we can talk about what happened last week?” Elisa asked me, about five minutes after driving away from the studio toward a barbeque joint just under an hour out of town that wanted some footage for an upcoming marketing campaign.

It’s been almost a week since the last time we were on the road together, when I came to you all looking for clarity and advice. The vast majority of you said something along the lines of “Just talk to her,” which is obvious, and sounds really simple. Like I said, I’m on the road almost all the time. Today on our road trip was really the first time we’ve seen each other since then.

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing. “I’ve been hoping we could find a chance to talk.” That isn’t exactly a lie. I have wanted to talk to her about it, but I’ve had no clue how to bring it up.

Two days ago, when this assignment showed up in my email, I have to admit I was worried. That things would be weird. That she would say it was a mistake. Or, worse, that she would try to get out of working with me altogether. But we ended up in my car again this afternoon, not awkward at all!

“Would you mind if I just say all the things bouncing around in my head, first? Then we can talk?” she asked.

“It’s been bouncing around in your head?” I was surprised. Excited.

“Yeah,” she drew out. “That’s part of the problem. Listen, it was probably a mistake asking you to —um— yeah. It was a decision made in the moment. But— and I see you looking disappointed over there. BUT, it’s not one I regret,” she finished up with a nervous quiver in her voice.

I glanced over at her, smiling like an idiot. She gave me a smirk, back.

“Right. Which is why you should listen to all of what I have to say before you get disappointed.” She paused as we pulled up to a stoplight. I took the opportunity to take my eyes off the road and give her my full attention. She turned her entire body and looked at me. “Anyway, I don’t think I have to tell you that I enjoyed it, you could probably tell that,” she continued with a confessional smile. “But I’m going to, because I really, really enjoyed it and I need you to know that,” she said slowly, staring into my eyes. “As I said, I’ve thought about it a lot. To the point of distraction. That’s the problem, and that’s what I want to talk about.”

The light turned green several cars in front of us, and I was silent for a few moments as I resumed driving.

“So, you’ve been distracted?” I asked, with an amused smile, glancing at her in my periphery.

She blushed. “You haven’t?” she demanded.

“Oh, a client had to remind me to take the lens cap off my camera on Monday. And it could have been much worse. I had my ISO set for shooting low light, which we weren’t. I’ve thought about very little else,” I confessed.

“Good,” she said, smug.


“Yeah. I don’t want to be the only one of the two of us thinking about it. It was really fucking hot, right?”

“Yeah,” I returned. “Watching you writhe around in my seat, listening to you while I made you cum was really fucking hot.” I think by this point I was horny enough to pull the car over and risk being late to do absolutely anything she asked of me.

“Writhe? Did I really?” she asked, more than a little embarrassed. “I honestly have a very selective memory of what happened. Mostly just —um— how it felt.”

“Oh, you were very vocal about how it felt at the time,” I added.

She blushed, again, putting her hands up to block her face. “Well, I’m glad I gave you a show that you enjoyed?” A silence fell between us before she added, “So what are we going to do about this?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. What could be done about it now?

“We can’t pretend like it didn’t happen,” she said. “Or, we probably could. But, I don’t want to pretend like it didn’t happen…” trailing off, as she put herself out there.

I looked over at her, sincerity brushed across my face, “I assume you know I’ve been interested in you for a long time,” I began.

“Oh?” she said. I could see her look down at her knees. “I didn’t know that.”

I laughed. “Really? Well, I guess I’ve put a lot of cards out there, then.” I paused. “You really didn’t know that?”

“It was obvious you were attracted to me,” she said. “But I didn’t know you’d ever considered anything…”

“You had a boyfriend,” I said. “And I guess I did a better job of keeping it to myself than I thought.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” she said, a little withdrawn. And this escort ankara is where things went sideways.

“Look, Elisa, that’s not what I’m saying. I don’t expect anything from you,” I tried to explain. “But, considering the topic, it’s only fair that you know where I’m coming from.”

“This conversation isn’t going like I thought it would,” she said. Then she got quiet.

In fact, we drove the rest of the way in silence. A nice, nothing but road noise, awkward silence. When we got to the restaurant, things went as planned. We were both our very professional selves, and we got the shoot done. Mostly interviews with the owners. I got some shots of them preparing the meat and putting it on the smoker. Elisa milled around listening for cool sounds in the kitchen and the smoke pit.

When we were done, we got my car packed up, stopped at a gas station, and headed back to town. There was silence, again, for about five minutes. Then Elisa started messing with my radio, making her way through satellite radio stations at about one every eight seconds, creating a disturbing juxtaposition of random sounds. It was starting to give me an intense headache when she suddenly turned it off.

“I freaked out earlier,” she said after a moment of silence. It was another moment before she added, “I’m sorry.”

I really thought I had blown it by being honest. But I was glad she was talking again. I smiled at her. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” she responded. “I’m glad I know. I don’t want us to hurt each other. That’s why I wanted to have the conversation. I honestly don’t think I can handle that right now. But…”

I looked over at her, lit by the dashboard panel again. She reached behind her, pushing her breasts out in profile to me, and casually let down her hair. Watching her wavy hair fall over her shoulders and down her back turned me into putty. She turned in her seat, one leg pulled up into the seat, to face me.

“How long until we’re back?” she asked.

I pressed the button on the dash screen to take me back to Ways. “Forty-three minutes,” I responded.

“There was something else I was wrong about,” she said. “I… I don’t want it to just be the one time.” I think maybe she was waiting for me to say something, but my mouth didn’t work. “I understand if you don’t want to do anything else.”

“I told you, I don’t expect anything from you, Elisa,” I responded. “But I don’t want it to have just been the once, either.” She smiled at me. I looked at her, suspiciously. “Did you let your hair down to sway me?”

“Maybe.” She laughed. “You like it down, right?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You always look my direction when I’m messing with my hair.”

“Do you have any clue how sexy you are?”

“When you look at me like that, it’s hard not to feel a little sexy.” She paused. “Do you want to see more?”

“More?” I asked.

She started to unbutton her blouse, revealing her fair, light brown skin and a black bra with a little white bow between her breasts. It suddenly became really hard to keep my eyes on the road. As she undid the last button, she spread her blouse open to reveal her smooth stomach.

She reached over and took my right hand, and placed it on her stomach. She leaned forward to unclasp her bra, letting the straps slide down her shoulders, revealing her breasts, set low on her chest with a fullness toward the bottom that points her dark nipples upward and out. I squeezed her fleshy, flat stomach under my hand, enjoying how soft her body is. I ran my hand up her torso, letting the fabric of her bra run over my fingers, and cupped her left breast in my hand.

She laid her head back against the window and let out a sigh. “God, I’ve been imagining you doing that all day.”

My hand wrapped around her breast, smaller than a handful, but not what I would call small. I felt her nipple harden under the pressure of my palm. I pulled my thumb under my palm and let it rub across her nipple, springing back into place as my thumb passed over.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, pressing her legs together then apart.

As my hand ran across her chest, stopping for a moment to feel her heart beat fast, she unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, pushing them down her legs. As my hand engulfed her other breast, she hooked her thumbs under the elastic of her black, somewhat lacy panties and did the same with them. She spread her legs wide, one foot on the floorboard, the other pulled up on the seat, revealing her freshly escort etlik trimmed bush as I looked over to take her in.

“You trimmed,” I said, looking between her legs.

She blushed. “It was a bit unkempt last time.”

I bit my lip nervously and admitted, “I kinda liked it.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Long?” she asked. “You didn’t even see it last time.”

“I know. I tried but you wouldn’t let me.”

I ran my hand down her stomach and up her inner right thigh, spreading her legs wider.

“I can let it grow out again, if you want,” she offered, looking down at herself.

I spread my fingers as far as I could across the thickness of her thigh and squeezed firmly.

“I’m not going to tell you how to trim,” I said.

After my hand had its fill of her right thigh, I moved over to her left thigh and took as much of it as I could in my grasp.

“If you like it long, I’ll let it be long,” she said.

I ran my fingers through the short, thick hair of her bush. It was surprisingly soft for being under half an inch long. Still, some of the strands wanted to curl.

“Fuck,” she said, desperately. “You’re going to do more than tease me, right?”

“Oh?” I inquired. “I thought you were just showing off?”

She squirmed under my touch. “Please,” she said, lifting her ass off the seat and pushing her hips toward me.

“What do you want me to do to you?” I asked, as I brushed my fingers down her mons lightly. Her hips bucked.

“Fuck me with your fingers,” she answered. Then she added, “Hard.”

“Hard?” I asked, confused.

“Mmhmmm,” she replied, as I pulled my fingers from her taint across her pussy, finding her lips coated in her juices. “You were incredibly tender last time, which was really nice and what I needed. But today I need you to be rougher.”

I circled my middle and ring finger around her labia a few times, coating them in her wetness as she moaned. I turned to look at her. As her eyes locked with mine I smiled, then quickly slid both fingers inside her.

Her eyes went wide and she grabbed the back of the seat with her left hand, her right reaching for the dash, but not finding it. She nodded at me, lips parted.

“Yeah,” she said.

I pressed my fingers hard into her, drawing the lower part of my thumb firmly across her little clit, feeling it poke at me with each pass. She continued to hold her ass above the seat as I pulled my fingers fully out of her pussy before slamming them in again, letting the full length of my thumb run up her clit.

“Ah!” she cried, from the back of her throat, each time my fingers slammed into her pussy after slowly pulling out of her. And again. And again. Each time I let her pussy feel the force my hand pushing into it her hips bucked into my palm erratically.

I looked over to see her watching my hand intently, mouth open. With her attention captured, I couldn’t help but keep it up. Her eyes followed my hand in and out. Her wetness splashed onto her bush, matting the short hair down. It splashed onto my wrist and up onto her stomach. She wiped her hand over her stomach, spreading the wetness, glistening across her skin.

“I don’t know what kind of -ah!- deal you made with the Devil, but I’ve ne-ah!-ver been this wet before.”

As her eyes locked with mine again, I blurted out, “I want you so fucking bad.”

My hand pushed forward, deep into her, hungry to fill her, hungry to touch her, desperate for her to feel my passion for her.

At first she looked stunned at my confession, then a smile slowly overtook her expression.

My hand pushed deep in her, I spread my two fingers in different directions at random, stretching the puffy walls of her tight, horny pussy. I rolled the fleshy web between my index finger and thumb over her clit while my fingers twitched and roamed. Her hips pushed forward into my hand desperately, her strong thighs spasming with the effort.

I pulled my fingers out of her and slipped my hand under her, grabbing one of her ass cheeks firmly.

She smiled at me, still bucking her hips into the air. “I’m glad you like my ass.”

“What’s not to like?” I asked, truly confused.

Embarrassed, she said, “I used to think it was too big.”

“I wish you were on my lap right now,” I said, as I filled my hand with her other ass cheek.

“Mmm,” she moaned. “I want to feel your cock pressed into my ass.”

I pulled my hand back and slipped my fingers into her pussy, hard, then pulling escort demetevler them out of her and filling her up, again. Her chest was heaving with heavy breathing and beads of sweat were breaking out over her breasts and stomach with the effort of holding herself off the seat in order to push into me harder.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” She paused, breathing. “This might have been a bad idea.”

“What?” I said, concerned, stopping what I was doing.

“Don’t stop,” she said. “I need to cum. You’ve got me so worked up I don’t know if I’ll be able to calm down until I cum.”

The lights of the city started to appear ahead of us and I realized why she was worried. I slipped my fingers inside her, pulling them most of the way out and forcing them back in against the tightness of her pussy, slamming my palm over her clit each time. Each time I pushed into her I spread my fingers out and turned my wrist, then pulled my fingers back together. Less teasing, more stimulation, plus I’d be able to go faster. If she needed to cum…

“Oh god, that’s good,” she said. “Please don’t stop.”

I pulled my fingers out, then slipped them back inside, spreading and twisting. Over and over. Faster and faster. Her breathing sped, as did her begging me not to stop. Her juices continued to splash across her thighs, my hand and no doubt my car seat as my hand tried desperately to bring her to climax.

With no warning, her legs closed tight around my hand as her body tensed. I could feel the pressure as her pussy spasmed around my fingers. Her voice cracked with vowel sounds in stops and starts. She collapsed onto the car seat, worn out, her thighs trembling. A thick strand of hair fell across her face and over her body.

I slipped my fingers out of her as she spread her legs.

“Fuck me,” she said, still breathing hard. “One of these days you’re going to tell me what your doing with your fingers down there. That was unreal.”

I looked over at her. Sweat covered her body and was spreading from her forehead and chest into her hair and onto her blouse. She laid as a semi-nude puddle in the seat. Her pants were bunched around her left foot and right knee.

“God, you look good,” I said, in honest appreciation.

She looked down at her disheveled self. “You would think so,” she said, “This is your doing.”

Before she could try to clean anything up, and with her watching, I brought my fingers to my mouth. She gave me a delighted smile. I slipped my fingers in my mouth and tasted her, sweet and earthy.

“Mmm,” she sighed. “That’s god damned sexy. I like that.”

“Me too,” I said, winking at her.

She laid in the little puddle she landed in for the next several minutes, while it was still mostly dark. She let my hand wander over her naked body, watching it closely as I touched her, enjoying me enjoying her.

“You have nice hands,” she said, after a couple minutes. “Watching it move across my body is kinda hot. It’s like live, in person porn that I get to feel.”

“I really don’t want to say this,” I said, “But you should probably get dressed. We’re almost in town.”

She craned her head to look over the dash. “Balls,” she cursed.

I watched in my periphery, with occasional glances, as she slipped her panties back on, then pulled up her pants and did them back up.

“God, you made a mess of me,” she said, feeling the tackiness of her skin, from sweet or her juices, or both.

She pulled one arm into her blouse, then back out, and then the other. Her bra fell into her lap before she started buttoning up her blouse, which clung to her body as wet spots formed. Once done up, her nipples protruded prominently into the soft fabric of her shirt.

“I can see your nipples,” I said with a smirk.

“You can do more than that,” she said, as she took my hand and slipped it under her shirt, leaning back and letting me feel her as we drove through the city. She grabbed her bra and clumsily stuffed it into her purse. “I like this,” she said. “We should spend more time with your hands on my skin.”

She moaned in disappointment as we pulled into the parking lot at the studio and saw the boss’ car still in the parking lot. We both got out of the car and carried the equipment inside.

“I need to get home and shower,” she whispered, so the boss wouldn’t hear her in his office. “I smell like sex.” I laughed. “You’re here editing tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. A day without driving,” I said.

“Good,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She grabbed her purse. “We still need to figure out … this.” She turned to walk out the door, smiling at me one last time before closing the door behind her.

So, I guess it’s not going to be just the once. But I still don’t know what it is.

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