November 19th

by Sydney Amatucci about a year ago in relationships

In the Car

November 19th

November 19th

November 19, 2014 approx 4:05 AM

He grabbed my face with hunger that I had not seen from him before. His hands were cupped around my face and kept pulling me closer to him, reaching, as if no matter what he did he could not bring me any closer. He slipped his hands down to my thigh in between my legs and found I was already ready for whatever he wanted to do. He slowly put his fingers into me and even though we were tangled in the back of his car I still felt the ecstasy running through my body. Every touch from him felt better than the next. Just as I felt myself reaching that high place of pleasure, he pulled out his fingers and leaned back away from me. He quickly started to undo his pants and I became confused to his purpose. I looked at him puzzled, but he did not notice me because of his fixation on his own task. Suddenly he looks up at me and reaches to move my leg over his head. I quickly protested and asked what he was doing. He replied sarcastically, “Raping you.”

“Funny,” I said. “No really, what are you doing?”

He looked down between my legs, then down between his.

“What, you don't want to?” he asked.

“Want to what?” I asked still puzzled

“Have sex with me?” he said quietly

“You mean right now?”

“You don't want to?” he said while closing my legs together.

“No, I do. Of course, I do. This is just unexpected.”

“I just want to feel you.”

“As long as you promise you won't cum in me.”

“No, I won't cum in you.”


I laid myself down on the seat and he positioned himself on top of me and slowly entered me. He thrust into me once and I moaned; twice, I moaned again. He felt so good I couldn't help myself. I’ve waited so long for this moment, I couldn't believe it was finally happening. Just when I thought he was going to thrust once more, he pulled all the way out of me. Once again I was confused as hell. Did I do something wrong? Was that all I was getting?

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I almost came in you.”

“But you said you wouldn't.”

“I know what I said. But after feeling you twice, I started to pull out to try and reposition my body and my dick said it was cumin so I stayed out.”

“So, what happened then?”

“I came.”


“In my hand.”

“Oh.” I paused. “I didn’t even realize."

He started to search for a tissue to dispense his mess in while I laid there, perplexed. Was that really it? How could a man that I believed to be such a great lover leave me so unsatisfied? To say the least, I was pissed.

He left the car to clean himself and came back quickly. As soon as he stepped into the car, he noticed my mood changed. Of course like he always did, he asked me what was wrong. He always had this thing of asking me what was wrong when in reality he knew exactly what was wrong and that he should just shut the hell up.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“Nothing,” I lied (not well I might add).

“Aw man.”


“I was thinking about this all day. I was thinking about where we were going to do it, and how. I knew your car would be too cold so that's why I said I wanted to sit inside my car.”

“Oh,” I said, not amused.

“I just think about you too much and I get myself too excited. I’m sorry baby.”

“It’s fine. Just that you're all tired and I’m still ready to go. Can you at least give me five minutes of energy?”

“What kind of energy?”

“Any energy...” I say in my sexiest voice possible.

“Okay,” he said.

He obviously didn't get the whole sexy voice memo because he started talking to me about his day. Not like I don't love talking to him, it’s one of the things I love about him, that he loves to talk; but I just wasn't in the mood. I interrupted him rudely, “That’s a good story and all but that’s not really what I meant by energy. A makeout session or something would be nice.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked while leaning his face toward mine.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Soon enough he was on top of me, kissing me passionately. Then just as fast as it started, it stopped. Really? What the fuck was his problem now?

“Now I’m paranoid,” he said

I exhaled loudly. “What? What do you mean?”

“My fingers. I don't want to put them in you because I had my cum in my hand.”

“Oh my god. Give them to me.”

I started licking all his fingers. Tasting his saltiness on them. Hmm... he was actually right. Go figure.

“You’re right, I can taste it.”

I finished and gave him back his hand. “All clean,” I said with a smirk.

He smiles and then our lips meet. He moves his hands from my face to my shoulders and finally to my thigh. Just a little bit closer, I whispered in my head. After what had seemed like an annoying period of unsuccessful foreplay, his fingers entered me and I felt immediate relief. How can he make me feel so good so fucking fast? Honestly, it’s actually rather annoying. I moan, but not as loud as I want to in fear that he’ll think I’m faking it when actually the pleasure is extreme. He moves his fingers deeper and I can’t control myself. I moan loud and feel myself climaxing. My back arches and I cum, feeling myself shake around him. He kisses me a few more times and then he pulls his fingers out of me and sits back against the car seat.

I just stay laying there trying to catch my breath. We both glance at the time. 4:45 AM. It’s getting late; we both know it, but we say nothing. A car’s headlights blind us from down the road.

“We should get going,” I say.

“You mean you and I like you in my car?”

A joke I would usually laugh at gives me no pleasure. For some odd reason, I'm agitated.

“No,” I answer him coldly. I meant your car and my car, separately.”

“I know baby I was joking.”

I stay silent.

I can't bring myself to look up at him. What am I doing here? How did I get here? Why am I—

“Baby,” he says as he grabs my chin and pulls my face towards his.

Our eyes are locked and neither of us dare to look away. We stare at each other for I'm not sure how long. He puts his hand on my cheek and brushes his fingers across my freckles. I close my eyes and intake a slow heavy breath.

"Baby, you know I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted this—"

It's four years later. I can't finish the story. I can't even remember how to. That saddens me. If I love and leave everyone who has meant something to me does that me that their memories will erase from my mind just like their hands on my skin? Like their lips on mine? Will it all cease to exist? Did this all really happen, or was it an occurring dream my mind played every night to drown out the loneliness?

How does it work?
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Sydney Amatucci

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