Late 70’s, we were playing foosball at a friend’s garage. Good sized group of friends, they had all known each other since middle school, I was the new guy, only around about a year or so, but accepted into the group just like everyone else. I was standing near the garage door waiting for my turn back at the table when thunder rumbled not too far away. Anita, standing next to me, grabbed onto my arm, grip like a vice. She was a short, cutie, long dark hair in that 70’s flip, always wore short bell-shaped skirts that accented her pear-shaped bottom, swaying when she walked. Men and boys like to watch her swing away from them, but she seemed either clueless or perhaps knew and was confident in her carelessness.
My buddy Kevin looked up from the pop shot he just made and said, “drive her home, she freaks out in thunderstorms, we will pick you up.” I turned to Anita, she handed me her keys and looked up at me helplessly with her big brown eyes. “Thanks,” she said. We walked to her ’67 Mustang, she with a death grip on my arm, her smallish breasts pressed into my arm, me with a big grin about getting to drive that car. I asked and she told me where she lived. I was thinking a couple of blocks away, since everyone went to middle school together, I was surprised she lived several miles away, out at the edge of town. Turns out her parents had done well for themselves and moved into a new subdivision out there. Oh well, I get to drive the ‘stang farther.
As I worked my way through traffic, slowed by every stoplight red, the storm rolled in. The thunder made Anita jerk and twitch in her seat. I tried for something soothing and distracting with no success. The first giant bolt of lightning and clap of thunder had her head buried in my lap. I reassured her by patting her shoulder, but also made sure I could still shift without conking her when I hit second gear in a downshift. Another clap of thunder and she twitched and gripped my thigh. At the next light, I glanced over. She was leaning over sideways in the bucket seats, twisted a bit. Peeking out from under her dress was a pair of lace lined French cut panties in pale blue. I am no perv, so I smoothed out her dress and let out the clutch to take off from the light.
The storm front was passing over us. Lightning was almost constant, thunder rumbling from distant to overhead. Anita jumped at every clap of thunder. Her head remained buried in my lap, her grip on my thigh tight. That skirt would not stay put with her squirming, inching up over the peak of her hip, sliding down (up!) towards her waist. I was enjoying the view of some very sexy legs and half of a beautiful curvy ass. My hand remained resting on her side, except when I was shifting, trying to be decent. In my brain I was decent, but my midsection had a growing discomfort, from what I was seeing, but also from her head bouncing against my very firm erection.
Back in those days a good erection would almost poke out the top of my low-rise bell bottoms and I was close to that point. I felt some tugging around my waist and realized she was unbuttoning my Levis. All attempts at decency were lost. I ran my hand down her waist, across the smooth skin of her rounded ass, giving it a squeeze. I had to move for a downshift, but she had exposed the tip of my cock, poking out the top of my briefs (yes, we wore bikini briefs in those days). I made the turn, skidding on the wet street as the gently kissed the head of my cock.
I corrected on the corner, shifting up as I rolled down the avenue to her neighborhood. I ran my hand again across that sweet ass, gave it a squeeze, moving on to find that lovely crevasse just below her cheeks. I tracked that line towards her center. At this point she had the head of my cock in her mouth, gently sucking, toying with her tongue. I felt like I had died and gone to Nirvana or Elysian fields, not sure if I would blow a load too soon. The thunder and lightning had blown on past us, with only an occasional flash. I was afraid the storm moving on would end the spell that had come over her. I made one final turn on to her street and went for broke. After a shift, I reach deep into her center, rubbing her through the soft fabric of those panties, discovering her v-shaped fur patch, trimmed to match her French cut panties.
She moaned and mumbled something I could not understand. The rain was coming in torrents, pelting the car, thankfully without any hail. I leaned down to ask her what she said. She said park at the curb, then twisted to kiss me the deepest, softest kiss of my life and said, don’t stop with your fingers. As we progressed slowly down the street, I worked my finger up and down between her legs, feeling the moisture grow through the fabric. I eased to a stop at the curb in front of her house and shut off the car.
I gently twisted her head towards me to get another kiss from those luscious lips. We began a long make-out session, our tongues probing and exploring each other. Our hands explored as well. Her hands were stroking my chest as I cradled her shoulders with my left arm. She had twisted in the seat to put her knees up, legs open, I pulled side her panties to stroke her back to front, lingering on her clit. The rain pounded the car, drowning out Anita’s moans as she now twisted, squirmed, and thrusted from my hand instead of the storm.
“Come on” I said, shifting to slide between the bucket seats into the back, pushing the passenger seat forward to give us some room as she followed me. I shimmied my jeans down as she straddled my lower legs. She bent to take my cock fully in her mouth. I am no porn star, but I was impressed by her skills in swallowing my average sized cock. She worked it while I made attempts to reach her breasts, gently rubbing them through her clothes. Her soft mouth was going to make me blow a load all over the ceiling of the car if I did not get buried inside her sopping wet slit soon.
I pulled Anita up for a kiss. She reached between her thighs to guide me into her pussy. She began to bounce up and down on my cock, pounding harder than the rain outside. I simply held on to her waist, helping her keep her balance. I still wanted to see her small breasts, but the pressure was building for me to blow my load. I told her I was going to cum soon. She ignored my warning and began to buck harder. A low moan began to grow deep in her throat as she increased her intensity. The look on her face was priceless as hair was thrown about wildly, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed my name. It was enough for me to pulse and load her up with my cum.
We were snuggling a bit, collapsed together when the rain began to subside. I saw headlights make the corner and hastily pulled my jeans back up. By the time my friends arrived, I was walking Anita to her door.