I just smiled. “How much longer do you want to stay?”
Marilyn was breathing hard. “Not much longer at all! Bastard!”
I just laughed loudly at her. I poured the last of the beer around, and finished my glass, and then took Marilyn back onto the dance floor, where I danced slowly with her and held her closely and whispered extremely detailed descriptions of what I wanted to do to her as we drove home and afterwards. After a few minutes of that, she took my hand and headed back to the table, where she finished her beer and waved good-bye to Tammy and Jim, and then dragged me out.
Marilyn led me back to my car, and was obviously in the mood to get home and get into action. I had a slightly different take on things. I looked around and found that the parking lot wasn’t all that well lighted and that not a whole lot of people were outside. Rather than unlock her door, I pushed Marilyn up against that door, and began kissing her. “I know what you want!” I told her softly.
“Oh?” she said, trying to be coy.
“Uh, huh, you want this!” Then before she could stop me, I reached down and pulled her skirt up towards her waist, and I quickly slid my right hand between her legs; my left hand was holding her in place. As I suspected, her panties were missing along with her bra, and her curly little patch was wet and musky.
Marilyn gasped, and shook, but she also tried to pull back. “No… we can’t…”
I diddled her clit furiously, and Marilyn whimpered and sagged back against the car door. “We can, and we will!” I fingerfucked her, standing there in the parking lot until she came. “Tell me when you come!” I ordered her.
Marilyn was quietly whining by now. “Unh… unh… unh… oh God… I’m, I’m coming, I’m coming!” she gasped after another minute.
I kept up this torture. “Tell me.”
“Oh, please… I’m coming!”
I relented at that and stopped. I also pushed my face against hers, and she greedily took my kisses, as I smoothed her little skirt out. “I love you.”
“I can’t believe the things I do with you,” she replied, shaking her head in disbelief.
“But you like them,” I said, laughing. I unlocked my car and Marilyn climbed in. I went around to my side and let myself in. I had to unlock my door since Marilyn seemed a little dazed. I noticed her underwear in the back seat of my car. That gave me another thought. I started the car and put it in gear.
As I pulled back out onto the road, I patted the seat next to me a couple of times, and Marilyn got the message. She unbuckled her seat belt and slid over towards me. There was something to be said about that big old Detroit iron — bench seats and no idiot lights or warning beepers. “You better not hit anything!” she commented.
I draped my right arm around her shoulders and drove with my left hand. “I can handle it. I was the soberest one at that table, although that’s not a glowing tribute.” I draped my arm a touch farther, and lowered my hand down to the front of her blouse, and grazed my fingertips across her nipples.
Marilyn gasped and looked up at me. I felt her movement and turned my head to grin at her. “Watch the road!” she said.
I maneuvered my hand a touch lower and firmly cupped her breast and tweaked her nipple. “Well, aren’t you the Little Miss Bossypants?”
“Behave.”
“I didn’t think I was misbehaving.” I tried to slip a finger inside her blouse.
“What if we have an accident?”
“Then the coroner is going to have a whole lot of fun explaining this to both our parents,” I replied, laughing. Marilyn gave me a sheepish look at that. I pulled my arm from around her, but set my hand on her bare thigh. Now that we were alone, she spread her legs apart, and I slipped my fingers between her soft and warm thighs. I wormed my hand upwards and began running my fingertips across her greasy little slit.
“You are driving me crazy!” she panted out. By now she was laying back in the front seat, sprawled out with her legs spread wide and her skirt had worked its way up her thighs so that her pussy was in view.
“Unbutton your top,” I told her.
“Just watch the road,” she said, but she also undid the buttons on her blouse. This was also like our first trip through. Whenever Marilyn and I went out on date night, underwear was notably absent, and the drive home was always hot and steamy, even well into our sixties.
I drove a few more miles, until we were close to the Battlefield, at which point I turned off the road and went up into the hills south of Utica. I only drove until I found a side driveway that went into an abandoned farm. I pulled in far enough we couldn’t be seen from the road, and put the car in Park. “And just what do you think we’re going to do here?” teased Marilyn, sitting upright and sliding closer to me.
I undid my seat belt and took her right hand and placed it in my lap. “I think you know exactly what we’re doing here!”
We didn’t do a whole lot of talking after that. Marilyn definitely had an idea of my plans, since she was working on my belt and zipper within a few seconds. She got a surprise when she found me going commando under my pants. A light rain had started falling by then, cooling the car, and we really fogged up the windows! Marilyn got a mouthful of jism while blowing me while I finger fucked her, and then I got stiff again and crawled over to her side of the seat and we tore off a vigorous piece on that side of the car.
Afterwards, as we struggled back into our clothing, she said, “We could have done this in the library and been a whole lot more comfortable, you know.”
“You have been driving me crazy in that skirt and those heels all night! I couldn’t wait!”
“I ought to make you wear these heels,” she complained.
“I’ll make a deal with you. You only need to wear heels when you are wearing a skirt or dress,” I replied.
“Why do I think you’re up to something?” she countered.
“I don’t know. Maybe because I really want you to dress only in skirts and dresses?” I answered innocently.
“Uh huh. I thought so.”
“I’ll compromise. You just keep wearing this little skirt with nothing underneath and the highest heels, and you can wear hot pants and high heels the rest of the time.”
“Dream on!”
I popped my door open and hopped out into the drizzle, and tucked my shirt in and straightened up, so I didn’t look like I had just gotten dressed in a car after screwing my brains out in a car. Marilyn made sure her blouse was all set, and she tucked her panties and bra in her purse. I started the car up and we went back to her house. Back at the house, I insisted we find out if the library was more comfortable, and Marilyn went along with my experiment.
Experimental sciences are the best sciences!
Chapter 37: Sophomore Year
Sophomore year is an interesting year for most students, in that this is their first really independent year, at least academically speaking. Not in lifestyle, of course, since that occurs freshman year. Freshman year is a huge change for the average college student. For the vast majority that are now living away from home for the first time, this is a massive culture shock. They are now being treated as adults, and need to learn discipline quickly. Mommy and Daddy are no longer going to be there to hold their hands, and they will have to adjust to a totally foreign environment and meet new people and assume new responsibilities. More than a few students totally bomb out at this; Marilyn and Buddy were just two examples. Buddy was obviously more extreme, but Marilyn didn’t have the discipline needed to study away from home. She needed a structured environment.