Cupcake and Carini- Dirty, Dirty Car Sex
Fate. Destiny. Serendipity. Chance. Tiny opportunities knocking on the door of our lives. I wish I understood the cosmos and how we attract these synchronicities. I don’t. But I feel them- their knock echos inside my nervous system.
Three people have entered my life this way and proceeded to rebuild my world. Far more have altered the skyline of my soul. I’m not sure which category Carini will ultimately fall into, but meeting him was one of those moments that was determined to happen.
Which sounds quite dramatic for a story that’s full of very dirty sex.
I can name at least three moments where our paths had crossed. I could have met Carini and began a relationship which was strictly platonic. Of course, I waited for the option that allowed me to get into his pants. Quite literally.
It took Tinder to point out all we had in common. Uncharacteristically, I made the first move. We made plans to meet at a concert. By the time we were able to navigate to one another, it was time for the show to start. I didn’t have time to notice much. He was tall and close to bald with a lumpy head. Well-built. Sexy. It was his eyes that caught my attention. Deep blue with a sparkle that seemed to tumble out at me as his smile went wide.
It wasn’t until a few days later that we truly connected, and made plans to meet up again at the concerts that weekend. That weekend led into four days of magic at a festival. We became partners in crime. And when the dust settled, I honestly didn’t know what would happen next. We had made plans, but as quick as we made them, he cancelled them. His wife was coming back to town for the Labor Day weekend.
Now, it took me far longer than was comfortable to learn that Carini was married. His wife lives on the other side of the country. Much like The Cupcakes, Carini and his Mrs. have an open marriage. But there’s another kink- she is pregnant.And while he lives only a half hour from me now, Carini will be relocating to the other coast by Halloween.
So there we stood- a three-week relationship that had developed an intimacy and connection far more advanced than its age with a looming expiration date. It felt way too familiar. It felt like a recipe for hurt. But I’m not the same Cupcake I used to be.
I had a choice- bail and stay safe or take the more interesting road. Even though I have built the Cupcake brand on interesting choices, I haven’t been Molly Cupcake in awhile. I thought about it. I wondered if it made me weak to sacrifice my heart to be swept up in romance for a few months. I thought about the lessons I had learned in the past two years. The Sausage King was still in my life. He was still my friend. All the hurt he brought helped me grow into an even more capable and confident person. Decisions shape us. So I went all in.
And when Carini asked me to come visit him- while his wife was there asleep- I decided to opt for adventure.
“Drive here. No panties. Meet me in the garage”.
I wondered what turned him on more- his pregnant wife asleep in the house or a horny girl willing to drive a half hour at 2am to fuck him in a car. It didn’t matter. Both turned me on. My wet cunt made the choice for me.
I was wearing a sundress. I slipped off my panties and slid out the front door of the house. Mr. Cupcake had been asleep upstairs for hours. I backed the car out of the driveway with the lights off. I had a half hour to ponder the sluttiness of my actions. I felt my wetness seeping down my thighs. My nipples stood like soldiers at attention. As I pulled into his driveway, I could smell every emotion I was feeling- fear, arousal, anticipation, lust. Pheromones gravitating from my thighs to the night sky.
“I sat in the garage, waiting for him to come out and praying he wouldn’t be accompanied by an enraged spouse. I wondered if I should get in the backseat. Could we satisfy our urges across the height of my wonder woman water battle? Or would positioning myself in the backseat officially qualify me as a nymphomaniac?
Before I could decide, he walked out dressed in pajama pants and his college t-shirt. I would have paid a million dollars to know his thoughts as he sauntered over to me, half-grin on his face and his eyes dancing. He closed the garage door and got in the passengers seat. I’m not sure I had the breath to say hello before I was devouring his from his lips. I slipped my hand around to the back of his head. I wanted him closer. I wanted to taste his lips. I needed to touch him. Fuck. I needed to be closer.
“Can we move to the backseat?”
“I don’t know why you weren’t already there.”
Of course. Smart bastard.
I pulled the door closed as I crawled to his side of the seat. Within seconds our fingers grazed and strayed in exploration while we sank into the wantonness of our lips. My hand went straight to his cock. I wrapped my fingers around him. He was as hard as I had ever seen him. Throbbing. I went to pull him from his pants, so he removed his clothes. As I jerked his dick through my fist, I could feel my mouth water. I had to taste him.
I put my knees on the seat and arched my self toward his cock like a kitten to a bowl of milk. I let my tongue enjoy the amuse-bouche of his mushroom capped head, drawing my tongue slowly around and across.
I lost myself in my hunger for him. I swallowed his length and let my lust-driven fervor guide my worship of his body. I felt his hands on me, roaming my body and raising my temperature. His hand slid across my bare ass and I heard him moan in excited surprise. I had followed direction. But he didn’t tell me how good a girl I had been. He smacked my ass. Hard. I gasped just long enough to moan before I continued my devotion. A few minutes later, the lights in the garage turned off. We were plunged into darkness. I paused for a moment, as if I had gotten caught.
He whispered to me, “What do you want?”
“What did you tell me you wanted?” We had been exchanging dirty texts all night.
“To suck your cock. Lick it. Feel it in the back of my throat.”
This was it. I felt my cunt contract. It knew the prayer I was about to whisper.
I felt my heart beat out of my chest in anticipation. I needed him to say yes.
I wasted no time in climbing on top of him and straddling. I took a moment to just feel his hardness against my wet cunt. I moved up and down against him. Practice. Self-denial. Teasing. Our lips brushed. I grabbed him and guided him inside me.
I started slow, savoring that initial feeling of fullness and how well he squeezed into my tight folds. We kissed with an ephemeral brush. Licking. Nibbling. Waves of breath crashing into opposing lips.
The air in the car was humid and damp. As I rode him faster our silent moans took haven as steam against the window glass. He pulled down my straps and freed my breasts. My dress wore like a belt around my waist. I felt his hands on my ass. It was pure ecstasy. I wanted more.
I licked and bit my way along every bit of skin I could reach. As I threw my curled and sweaty hair over my shoulder, I found him watching me. I saw the pleasure in his face. How much he wanted me. His excitement.
I felt like a siren. Confident. Wanted. Powerful.
I don’t know how long we went on before we wore through our hunger. He moved me off of him gently and held me just long enough to bring us both down to earth.
As I drove home, ruffled hair and dripping cunt, I couldn’t help but be grateful for him. Maybe this made me a dirty nympho. But in that dirt was something and someone worth holding onto.
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