Traffic Jam

 

 

I’d been stuck in this Bolt car since early morning, and I was feeling incredibly restless. At 41 years old, I’m a curvy British woman — full hips, a generous figure, and a large chest that was noticeable under my fitted white tank top. Every time I hit the brakes, the sensation against the fabric was distracting.

 

The app pinged. New passenger waiting outside Covent Garden Market. When she climbed into the back seat, my breath caught.

 

Her name was Regina. Forty-four, fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders, heavy eyeliner, and a very impressive chest that was prominent in a low-cut floral sundress. The dress was short, showing off her strong thighs. She was carrying two shopping bags.

 

“Camden Town, yeah?” I asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

 

“Yeah, love. No mad rush,” she replied in that smoky London accent. “Take the scenic route if you want.”

 

Traffic on Shaftesbury Avenue was a complete nightmare — stop-start, full of tourists and black cabs. We started chatting to kill time. At first it was normal stuff, but soon the conversation turned more personal. She told me about her unsatisfying ex-husband, and how she hadn't felt close to anyone in months, and how she'd been feeling a deep sense of longing all day while she was shopping.

 

I laughed nervously, but admitted, “Tell me about it. I've been feeling the same way this afternoon.”

 

By the time we reached the massive set of traffic lights near Charing Cross, the tension in the car was thick. The light turned red. We both went quiet for a few seconds.

 

Then Regina leaned forward between the seats, grabbed the back of my neck, and pulled me into a deep kiss. It was intense and immediate. I gasped into her mouth and kissed her back just as fervently.

 

“Forget this,” I growled. I switched the engine off, unclipped my seatbelt, and clumsily climbed into the back seat with her. Our mouths met again — heated and desperate.

 

I helped her out of her sundress. She was beautiful. I held her close, burying my face against her skin.

 

“You're amazing,” I breathed.

 

Regina laughed breathlessly and helped me out of my tank top. My own form was now free. She immediately pressed herself against me, our bodies flush together while we kissed deeply.

 

Horns started blaring behind us as the light turned green, but neither of us paid any attention. I quickly removed my leggings. Regina hiked her dress all the way up. She was bare beneath it, her skin flushed and soft.

 

“Come here,” she whispered.

 

I moved over her, lowering myself down. The second I felt her warm mouth I cried out softly. Her attention was fervent and all-consuming.

 

While she focused on me, Regina reached into her shopping bag and pulled out a long, firm cucumber from the market. She ran the smooth end along my skin, teasing, before pressing it gently against me.

 

“Oh!” I gasped as the pressure filled me. It felt thrilling and taboo. Regina began to move it with careful strokes while still lavishing attention on me with her mouth.

 

My body responded eagerly. The car was rocking slightly. I could see people in the cars beside us staring, some with their mouths open, a few holding up phones. The exposure only heightened the intensity.

 

I needed to reciprocate. I shifted, pushed her back gently against the seat, and turned my attention to her. She was ready for me. I tasted her skin, focusing on her most sensitive areas while she moaned with pleasure.

 

Regina kept using the cucumber on herself now, the motion clear even as I focused on her. The intimate sounds filled the car.

 

We switched again. She moved over me this time, her warmth enveloping my senses while she continued to use the vegetable on herself. I devoted myself to her completely.

 

“I'm close!” she cried out.

 

She climaxed powerfully, her body trembling. I stayed with her through it. Moments later, my own release followed, washing over me in a strong wave.

 

We weren’t finished.

 

We pressed our bodies together, holding each other close, and began moving together in a steady rhythm. The connection was profound. I held her close, our pace increasing.

 

“Don't stop,” I gasped.

 

We were both breathing heavily, lost in the moment. Regina reached between us and touched me just right. The light had turned red again, giving us more time.

 

I came first — crying out, shaking, surrendering to the feeling. Regina followed right after, her own release shuddering through her as she held onto me.

 

We kept going for what felt like a long while — kissing tenderly, touching and exploring each other, sharing the simple intimacy until the back seat was a tangle of limbs and shared warmth.

 

By the end, both of us were breathless, marked by the experience.

 

Regina smiled at me, her fingers tracing my skin softly. “Best ride I’ve ever had.”

 

I returned her smile, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. “We’re nowhere near Camden yet… I’m taking the longest possible route.”