The luxury car roared up the hill, its engine’s vibration thrumming through my seat. I was full of expensive wine and gourmet food, and I couldn’t help but think about what I was going to do with the man beside me. The proposal danced through my mind. My silk skirt inched up my thighs as I settled back to enjoy the ride. His broad hand fiddled with the console, and I could feel his gaze flirt with the hem that had fluttered below the juncture of my thighs.
“May I turn up the music?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said and moved his hand. I placed it on my upper thigh, forcing him to choose whether to crank the music or keep his hand tantalizingly close to my wet panties. He didn’t know they were wet at the moment, but I considered allowing him to.
“Would your proposal really work?” I mused out loud.
“It’s a simple plan really.” His hand inched higher.
I thought back to the stories we had shared over our five-star meal and the confidences we had traded. He knew about my broken heart and had promised to never hurt me. He swore that he would always be honest with me, but I didn’t necessarily believe him. What I did believe was that he thought we were perfect for one another with our compatible kinks and lust for sexual adventure.
His proposal was to foot the bill and fly me to whichever city he was working in for the weekend. I would have time to sightsee or write if I wished while he was occupied with corporate concerns. My only task was to find a suitable man for our sexcapades. Then at night we’d meet that willing man who would fuck me while my friend watched. He might participate or he might not. His fantasy was to watch me take big cocks and have loads of orgasms. I couldn’t deny the appeal of the scenario. I did love taking big cocks and having a plethora of orgasms. I even had a swingers’ website in mind to use.
My friend had brought a vibrating egg with him to dinner and had challenged me to insert it before the waiter returned with our chocolate soufflé. I accepted of course, and then spent the next hour blushing furiously as he increased the vibrations and a loud whir filled the space between us. I was certain that the waiter heard, but by then the wine had had its way with me and I cared less and less about the small humiliation.
Accepting the challenge of the egg was simpler than agreeing to run away with him on the weekends to fuck strangers. But I was too horny and too tipsy to think any further about it. I wanted release. The vibration of the bass teased me through the seat, and I squirmed, pulling his hand closer to my goal.
“I almost forgot,” I said with a sigh. I lifted my ass and pushed my panties down. Then I spread my legs with my heels braced on the dashboard.
He groaned. “God, that’s hot.”
“Am I the first girl that you’ve fingerbanged in your Ferrari?” I didn’t wait for an answer but pushed his fingers inside me. “Make me come,” I ordered.
He didn’t disappoint me.
I had two orgasms, my body mirroring the crests of the hills that we flew over. I didn’t know how I was going to answer him, and luckily my body didn’t care. His fingers swirled inside me, muting my thoughts.
Did I want a Daddy, a man happy to take me traveling and feed my voracious sexual appetite—protecting me while nurturing my kinks? It sounded too good to be true even though he swore there was no downside.
Despite those incredible orgasms, I’m still deciding.
Interested in reading my other anecdotes for Swingtowns? Check them out here: