TRAFFIC JAM 
 
 
I shifted restlessly in the seat of my Mazda and looked out at 
the sea of cars ahead. It was rush hour and I was locked in 
tight. As heat waves shimmered up from the metal around me, my 
thoughts turned to memories of heat in a more pleasant time and 
place. The man in the car beside me was reading a newspaper. The 
woman ahead was checking her makeup. I eased back further into my 
seat and recalled a memory of getting laid.  
 
It was years ago in Nevada, that day by the river in the desert 
sun. He was sitting next to me on the rocks. His hand touched my 
face. In the traffic jam a strand of my hair fell loose and 
brushed against my cheek. I breathed faster.  
 
Traffic moved. Cars surged to fill the gaps. I heard the thumping 
bass of a stereo from somewhere behind me. All around were people 
on their way home from work, their thoughts focused on relaxing 
and spending time with their families.  
 
My mind was on two people in the desert. He kissed me. It was the 
kind of kiss that makes you forget everything else. His hands 
slid down to my breasts, over and then under my bathing suit. His 
hands squeezed and caressed. His lips wandered over my body. The 
world dissolved until the touch of his agile fingers between my 
legs startled me.  
 
Traffic froze again. A hand was in my lap. Mine. I didn't 
remember putting it there. A tiny shiver ran through me as I 
moved my fingers. The bass thumper was right alongside me now, a 
young man in a black car. I scarcely noticed as my shorts came 
open button by button.  
 
I felt the hot sand on my back and the heat of him inside me. The 
caresses blended perfectly into fucking. I bit my lip and moaned 
as the muscles of my body tensed in response to his thrusts. His 
fingers gripped and stroked every part of me he could reach, his 
touch alternating between care and abuse just quickly enough to 
keep me from getting tired of either.  
 
The cars around me crept forward. I drove one-handed with two of 
my fingers moist and busy. I braked roughly at the inevitable 
stop, then glanced up and met the eyes of the driver on my left. 
He was attractive, and we looked at each other for a long moment. 
I wondered if he somehow guessed what I was thinking. And doing. 
I looked away and forgot him.  
 
His thrusts were slow and deliberate, changing in approach and 
angle so that every one was new. He was panting, our breath and 
sweat and bodies mingling in the hot sun. I felt my orgasm 
nearing. Suddenly lifting me in his strong arms, he plunged us 
into the river. As the cool water met the heat of my body, I 
came.  
 
I met the driver's gaze again as I arched in my seat, a low moan 
escaping my lips. His eyes widened. I leaned back against the 
headrest as my orgasm subsided, then on a whim lifted my guilty 
fingers and put them in my mouth. He glanced quickly around him 
as if unsure of what he was seeing. I gave him a lazy smile. I 
felt too good to care.  
 
I settled back into my seat, my naughty thrill fading. Traffic 
was moving again. A car honked impatiently and I started off, 
this time with both hands on the wheel.

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