Sheila could give me head like no one else, knowing how to play my manhood like a fine instrument. “Luuu-huuuve you, too,” I sighed, warmly stroking her bared shoulders and blonde hair with my right hand. I tried to detach my brain from my body as I drove, while enjoying perhaps the most intimate gift a woman can give a man. As she continued feasting at my stiffening cock, I could see a signal light ahead. I prayed it would stay green so we wouldn’t have to stop, only to have someone pull up in the next lane and see my girl giving me fellatio with abandon. I was also praying that Sheila wouldn’t stop. Running her tongue around my shaft while stroking the rest of my manhood with her mouth and hand, she got me on an orgasmic edge — one that she could maintain in me for minutes . . . or in this case, miles. My pulse was racing right along with the music. The light ahead was now red. I slowed the car down. But Sheila wasn’t. I continued resting my right hand on her sweet, blonde head. Glancing over at her and smiling, he reachedbehind his seat and grabbed his letter jacket. He offered it to her.She thanked him as she pulled it over her bruised shoulders. It was thefirst time he had heard her normal voice which was hoarse. Until then,all he had heard were her shrieks of fear and shouts of anger.She trembled as she slipped the oversized jacket around her thinshoulders. She looked eight years old in his coat, but he knew she wasolder, maybe even older than his twenty two years."I'm William," he said quietly, "and I'm sorry I didn't arrive sooner."She looked at him and burst into tears. Sliding over, she launchedherself at him. Throwing her arms around his neck, she clung with adeath grip. Her sobbing soon wet his neck and shirt. She smelled ofperfume and anxious girl sweat.When her sobbing subsided, she unwrapped her arms from around his neckand settled back in the seat. Using the knit cuff of the jacket sleeveto wipe the tears and snot that had accumulated.
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