Quite recently, I was driving cross-country, and, as I sometimes do, I
was “edging” myself to pass the time. I would leave the fly undone on my
shorts and just reach in to touch or stroke enough to keep nice and hard,
but without allowing myself to cum. Cumming while driving is risky and
rather inconvenient, as I’d learned in my imprudent youth. But I’ve always
enjoyed edging myself, in all kinds of circumstances, and the monotony of
the highway combined with the relative privacy of my car on the open
interstate of eastern Colorado was a fine combination.
Generally, as I tease myself, I develop elaborate fantasies or stories
for myself. This particular time, I was inventing a story in which a young
man seduces his sister anonymously via internet chat, and gets her to
perform dares and other sexual activities which he then has a chance to
confirm by observing her offline behavior. As I developed the story and
the infinite great plains crawled past my windows, I became increasingly
excited… but years of edging experience suggested I was nowhere near
being in “danger” of losing control.
I had my dick out and was idly twiddling the head as I told myself the
story and gripped the steering wheel with my other hand. There was a bit
of precum oozing out, but nothing spectacular. In the story I was making
up, I had the man dare his sister, via instant message, to bring herself to
orgasm “while someone else was in the room.” “Right now?” she asked. “Only
my brother’s home,” she complained. “Do you dare to do it?” he sent back.
“Ok, hangon, BRB,” she typed. She left her computer in her room and went
out and sat on the couch near to where her brother was on the computer in
the living room. She pretended to watch television, and made idle talk
with him, while he minimized his chat windows and pretended to be
researching something for school. As she talked, she pulled a blanket over
her lap and began to…
At this point, I was pretty turned on by this story. Much to my
surprise, I felt that familiar surge in my gut and balls that said I was
very very close. I stopped touching myself altogether, confident I would
successfully edge past yet another impending orgasm, and focusing on how
much fun I would have, in my motel room, that night. I lost track of my
story, fixating instead on these more immediate images, while my dick
throbbed.
A good two minutes passed, without touching myself, but the feeling of
impeding orgasm failed to go away… in fact, it suddenly exploded, and
without warning, a fat gob of jizz flew from the end of my dick and
spattered my steering wheel. I was quite surprised… I felt
disappointment at my lack of self control but the orgasm kept building
strength. I reflected that it had been a rather long time since my last
orgasm, and I’d been edging myself for several days “on the road,” at this
point. Wow. Past the point of no return, I grabbed my dick and stroked
furiously. Squirt after squirt, ooze after ooze. Onto my hand, my dick,
my lap, my shorts, my shirt. And a fat blob on the steering wheel.
And suddenly, in my review mirror, I see a state patrol cruiser pull
into traffic from behind an overpass. Oh crap. What, exactly, would I say
if he pulled me over and saw my jizzy dick hanging out? If I moved to put
it away and clean up, would he interpret my movements as possible fetching
of weapon or other illicit activity, and make my stop much less pleasant
still, if he noticed them? They’re trained to notice such things. My
heart leapt to my throat, beating hard from the recent orgasm and the
impending danger. This was why I didn’t like to cum while driving.
Much to my relief, he pulled right past me without slowing down. I
hadn’t been speeding, at least not too much. Boy was I relieved.
What an intense experience.
Interesting!