Escaping Life

by Ravenblackerotica

story tags: milf, finger_banging, car_sex, female_orgasm, cougar,
bbw_orgasm, cougar_and_cub, milf_sex, fingering, older_woman

https://www.literotica.com/s/escaping-life-1


"FUCK! NO! NO! NO! FUCK!!" I scream at the dash board. My knuckles
white as I squeeze the life out of my steering wheel. Feeling my rings
digging into my fingers. I suppose an engagement ring would hurt even
more, if I had one. "God dammit, fucking piece of shit, bitch, cunt!!"
I slap the steering wheel until my hand is raw. Punching the radio
console until I hear a snap and can't decide if my hand broke the radio
or the radio broke my fucking hand.

"Fuuuuck!!"

Fucking, piece of shit chevy! I think, shaking out my right hand.

"Everything!" I yell to no one. "She gets, everything!! Always!!" I
swerve through traffic, hearing the honks and screams of people
driving, people walking.

Shit I would care about any other fucking day.

I try not to crash as I speed through intersections, but in truth, it
doesn't matter. Nothing does. The lights turn from green to yellow to
red, my speed stays the same. I need out of this city. I need out of
this life.

Single, 41 fucking years old, woman. Alone. Alone! Debra, you're going
to die alone! My thoughts echo in my head.

I've spent my life driving through the green lights, staying in my
lane. 20 years at the same desk job, 15 years in the same house.

It's a good job and a great house I have- It doesn't fucking matter.

Brake lights stomp ahead of me as I speed around them. I travel through
this life slowing when society tells me too, stopping when I see a red
light. I wait for others to tell me to go. I have been a chair for my
friends and family to use when needed and discard when not. They forget
I exist till the next time their legs are weak and they need a seat. I
pant, trying to control my driving as I near the edge of town. Checking
the rear view mirror for cops. Adjusting my skirt.

Don't fucking kill yourself, Deb. Just breathe... I can deal... Fucking
formal wear, for family night! ...Fuckers...

I look down at my clothes as a I turn from a one way. My white blouse
fits snug around my hips and tight around my breasts. The one perk of
the many downsides of going from a size 4 in college to a size 14, 20
years later. My thick plump breasts press against my shirt, pulling it
around my hips. My shirt half open over my brown asymmetrical skirt
that hangs loose around my thighs.

Mother gets what mother wants...

She asked for this outfit specifically, said, 'that one you wore for
church last month, wear that one. It'll fit for the occasion."

Mother fucker. Mom knew what Ashley was going to say and she didn't
even warn me. Goddammit!

I feel the sweat begin to build on my neck, and I want to scream. I
play the scene of dinner in my head and watch my Mom's expression as it
happens. It was Ashley's moment, she was the one talking, and shouting,
but it was me that Mom was watching. I was her show for the evening. As
Ashley speaks, I still see Mom's grin, that twisted smile that can hook
into your chest, in a way only a mother could, and cut your heart out.
I feel the hiccup in the rear of my throat. The small reminder of my
sensitive side as it begs for me to cry. To break down and shatter in
front of traffic. But it is quickly squished by the twisting dagger in
my stomach. The jolt of pain that makes me want to fight the world and
break my hand on a radio console.

The roads clear up as I leave the downtown scene and get away from the
Saturday night traffic while the sun sets. I don't know where I'm
driving. I'm not going home, I'm going away. Far away. I slow to a stop
at the red light before turning on to the interstate. That's where I
see him hunched over beside the road with back pack resting between his
knees. He's a young man, maybe 19 or 20 years old. Lots of things
strike me about him. He's a fit boy, muscular, and tone. His brown hair
is matted and sweaty. More sweat spots showing through his t-shirt.

He's been walking for a while in this heat.

It is in the mid 80's still, as it cools down this evening. Not nearly
the hottest for the Midwest, but still is taxing over time. But the
thing that strikes me the most about this boy, is the solemn expression
on his face. His defeated looks. He looks like he's tired. He looks...
He looks like he could use a chair... I roll down my passenger window
nearest him.

What the fuck are you doing, Debra? You know you're not supposed to- He
could be a serial killer, drug dealer, fucking rapist. You don't
fucking give rides to hitchhikers, retard.

"Always with the rules, always with the rules..." I whisper to myself
as the light turns green. "Hey... Hey!" The boy looks up, dazed as he
leaves his thoughts. He comes to my window. "You uh- you need a ride?"

HOOONKK!

A horn blows behind me, raising a panic inside my stomach. I don't like
to keep people waiting. I'm not good with inconveniencing others. I
look back as he does and wait for him to respond.

Fuck. He's gunna ask where you're going? Where the fuck are you going?!

He hesitates a moment looking at me, watching me. I see his eyes follow
my straight, brown, highlighted hair down to my shoulders, and I watch
his eyes linger for a moment at the curve of my breasts. It makes me
fidget with my fingers, nervous like.

Just before I try to drive off and cut my losses, he opens the
passenger door sliding in his pack in with him. I quickly turn the
steering wheel and enter the freeway, subconsciously hiding in my seat
as I receive angry looks from the cars behind me passing.

"Thanks," I hear the young man mumble without looking.

"No problem, um, Where you heading?" I ask trying to adjust my seat
belt so it doesn't choke my right breast. My auto adjustments begin on
their own. Pulling my skirt down to my knee to cover my pale thighs,
straightening my back so my love handles disappear some, and sucking in
my stomach. I've done it for so many years that it comes without
thought.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket looking at the screen.

He's got the new phone, same as me, I notice.

He rubs his forehead and sighs, "it uh- it doesn't matter. I don't
care..."

At least he's going to the same place I'm going.

We drive for 20 minutes or so, watching the sun lower in the sky. I
think about introducing myself a few times but the silence feels right.
Him sitting there isn't awkward to me as most people are, but...
fitting. His clothes are new and his skin is clean, but his heart is
worn- used. He is done with this life as much as I am. I picture him as
a college student, maybe a baseball or football player. He has a calm
energy about him, but it feels like a mask over a storm down below.

My mind wanders and I welcome the distraction from my night. Mostly to
men. It has been over 7 years since I've had anything that remotely fit
into a category of a boyfriend. The thought of a man finding me sexy
anymore doesn't occur to me. I figure my time has passed. My mother
likes to repeat that this is part of aging in womanhood- losing that
desire. But something in the scent coming from this boy awakens a
curiosity of thoughts. It isn't body odor coming from him, but a mix of
a strong men's body wash, sweat, and something else I can't put my
finger on. A smell a 40 year old office worker doesn't notice often.

"I'm- sorry, I uh, I'm not really going anywhere," I say. "I don't know
where I'm going I just- something happened and I just uh- I'm leaving-
I'm going somewhere else..."

He looks at me then back out his window to watch the warm reds and soft
blues of the sky.

"I'm sorry, my name's Debra, by the way," I fidget.

"I'm John," he speaks. "And you don't have to keep apologizing. You're
the one giving the ride... Thanks, again."

"Sorr-" I start to say then stop, laughing nervously. "Us older ladies
don't talk to you younger guys too often." I watch him for a reaction
to my age comment. He glances a look at my chest, again, eyeing my 32g
breasts. His hand moves to the crotch of his pants, pulling, and
adjusting.

"We don't need to talk," John says folding his arms. I close my mouth
from what I was about to say. Doing my best keep him from feeling
uncomfortable. I hear his phone vibrate in his pocket and he takes it
out, reading the screen.

"Fug... mother... goddamn," John whispers to himself through clenched
teeth. Shaking his head, he shoves his phone hard into his pocket.
"Nothing mat... Nothing matters... It just doesn't," John mumbles
convincing himself. He glances at me, "I'm sorry, I'm-" he cuts himself
off as he looks me down, again.

I think of something to say, but can't come up with anything that
doesn't start with an apology. We sit in a different silence for a
minute as I move to pass a semi-tractor ahead. I feel him thinking and
fidgeting. The message he read on his phone changed him, somehow. I
feel the heat from his body fill the vehicle as if he just transported
the rest of him into here. I look in my left mirror as I merge into the
fast lane and feel a warmth on my right inner thigh. I turn slowly and
see John's left hand held against the middle of my thigh, under my
skirt.

His hand is on my thigh! His hand is on my fucking thigh!

I tense. My hands go white as I grip the steering wheel. My eyes are
locked on the road ahead. Oddly, in this unfamiliar moment, I don't
want to look at his hand- or him, because I don't want him to feel
uncomfortable.

What a fucking retard I am. I'm about to be raped because I was stupid
enough to pick up a hitchhiker, and I'm worried about my rapist's
feelings!?

John's hand is warm and solid, cupped to my skin on the inside of my
thigh. Just far enough up my leg to make every muscle in my body tense
as I await my attackers command, but it hasn't come. Seconds go by and
his hand stays, maybe minutes, I don't know, but he doesn't say a word.

What is he waiting for? Put up a fight! Hit his hand away! Don't be
such a God Damn Pussy, Debra!

I feel his left hand slowly close and open on the meat of my inner
thigh, massaging it along my soft, pale, untouched skin. His hand wont
retreat but it doesn't advance higher either. The warm touch makes me
bite my lower lip and curl my toes, as his middle finger presses into
my skin, drawing imaginary circles on my inner thigh. I feel the drop
fall from my pussy lips, down my hairy mound, dripping into my panties,
and exhale. My eyes close for a second longer than they should when
you're driving 70mph down the freeway. I quickly open them, adjusting
in my seat as if I just caught myself dozing off.

Without thought, my right hand goes to my chest, nervously, as my right
thigh twitches open wider, relaxing to the side. At my motion, John's
left palm slides up my bare thigh- stopping inches from my panty line,
then rubs back down to my knee, then back up. Squeezing and groping
with his strong hand, warming my trembling inner thigh.

He was waiting for me. He was waiting for me to open my legs to him- to
give him permission. Jesus, Debra, is that what you're doing? What are
you doing?! ...Fuck, I'm so wet...

His hand makes a long slide up my thigh, but it doesn't stop as I feel
his palm cup my warm pussy through my gray panties. I adjust, spreading
my thighs a little more, scooching my butt out from the seat. My right
hand feels my heart pounding my chest, trying to break free, as my
sweaty left hand guides the wheel into the right lane back behind the
large semi. I feel John's fingers probing my pussy lips through my
panties, tracing my clit to the bottom of my slit, up and down, uppp
and downnn. My shoulders twitch and my thighs tense and relax as I bite
my tongue, trying not to moan, trying not to officially condone or
condemn this boy's action, but goddamn my panties are drenched!

I coast at 10 miles below the speed limit and glance at the faces of
those driving by. Men, women, young, old... they talk and look at me as
I drive with my passenger, then continue going about their
conversations. Oblivious to this 20 year old boy fingering this 40 year
old woman's pussy lips. They watch me drag my teeth across my tongue,
they watch me begin to pant as my eyes widen, and bite my lip, and they
have no idea. They have no idea how bad I want him to fuck me.

"Oohh..." I whisper as I feel my soaked panties pulled to the side by
John's hand. I glance to see if he looks at me but he doesn't. I see
his flexed upper arm and watch his forearm muscle dance between my
thighs. John stares forward while he drags his fingers through my hairy
pussy.

Fuck, I haven't shaved in forever. I bet his young hands never even
touched a hairy pussy before. I hope he doesn't- Oh- Oh fuck...

John's two fingers make long wide circles on my clit, spreading my
juices all over my bulging knob. My toes curl, my foot twitches, and
the engine revs launching us forward before I take my foot off the gas.

"Yes..." I mumble, wishing I didn't have to focus on driving. I set the
cruise on the car as I feel two fingers puuuush into my pussy, deeeep.
Then feel them drag out keeping pressure on my clit, making circles on
it several times before pushing back inside my hole. My right hand was
inside my shirt and under my bra, cupping and groping my left breast
without even realizing it. My knees pressed against the door and center
console keeping my thighs as wide as possible for John. My eyes are
locked on the road ahead, trying to concentrate on not crashing as I
feel it coming. John's fingers are grinding along my pink, hairy, clit
over and over. My hips are jittering as I hold my breath because that's
all I can do. Silence in the car... The only sound is of my juices
being flicked around, rubbed faster as John's left hand flexes into my
hairy pussy.

"Oh godd... I..." I spit out as I take another deep breath. Left hand
locked on the steering wheel, my right squeezing my left tit. I feel
his eyes locked on me as he makes this old gal cum.

John watches biting his lower lip in concentration as I open and close
my mouth making silent screams.

I feel it building. His circles on my clit become messy and rougher
when I it comes.

"Oh...Fuck me..." My abdomen goes concave as I start to buck. My pussy
explodes gushing on John's palm, splashing on my hips and floor board.
"Yes, yes! Ohhh goddd!" The hand continues to make wild circles on my
sex as I buck my hips grunting but trying not to. Shutting my eyes but
trying not to. I feel waves crashing up my body and engulfing my mind
as I squeeze my plump breast, holding it in a tight grip of shock as I
cum so hard- I just don't care.

I'm barely able to catch my breath when his hand leaves my soaked
pussy. The rumble strip shakes the car as my eyes focuses from blur and
I see I'm driving 35 mph and half on the shoulder. John's right, grabs
the wheel centering me back in the right lane as I speed up trying
straighten myself. But I feel my right leg jerked down when I try to
sit up.

John is leaning over me. His lips close around the corner of my right
ear lobe, biting, and sucking on my stud ear ring. His hands
unbuttoning my shirt, they go lower. Kissing my neck behind my ear,
sending chills down my spine, while he brushes my hair over to my other
side, opening my neck. I can barely see the road over his shoulder. His
right hand sliding over the bra of my left breast. He rubs and lifts my
stretched tit, warming it. He stops as he sees my tattoo. A snaking
tribal symbol, fluttered with hearts and stars that runs from tramp
stamp to shoulder on the right of my back, peaking a pair of snake
heads just over my collar bone.

The pathetic sign of rebellion made 20 years ago.

Back when it was a sexy contrast to my light skin on my thin body.

My last act of spontaneity. Now it's just a faded gray, contorted, and
stretched around my curves and love handles.

I wince looking from the road long enough to see John's grin as he
kisses my tattoo. With a hum of pleasure he sucks hickies up my neck
pressing into me as I smell his sport deodorant. His right hand sliding
down my center pulling my right breast from my bra as my shirt hangs
loose. The cool air hits my breast and I feel my hard nipple aching to
be touched.

What are you doing? You should stop. You should talk to him. What does
he want out of this? He's too young for you! He just has some sick mom
fetish. You know he doesn't find you attractive. What are you doing?!
Mmm... I don't know... I don't know idontknowidontknow... but I want
more...

My right hand cups the back of his neck pulling it down my chest. His
wet tongue traces down my collar to right nipple. His tongue doing
circles on my pink nipple before his lips lock around me, sucking and
tonguing my rock hard nipple.

"Mmmm.." I feel my pussy drain, again. Releasing juices coursing
through my hairy twat as his tongue flicks my plump full breast. His
left hand feeding my tit to his mouth and his right hand slides between
my thighs. The seat, my skirt, the floorboards, my panties, they are
all drenched from my previous explosion but he moved like he didn't
care. His left knee up on his seat as I feel his two fingers spread my
juicy lips. "Ohhh..." I sigh, "go inside me..." The words come out
without thought as I barely keep eyes on the tail lights of the tractor
ahead of me under the hoods of my eye lids. Heat filled my face as his
fingers filled me. They pushed deeep inside me, rubbing the roof of my
pussy pressing lightly on my g-spot before retreating to repeat. With
every firm thrust inside me his thumb grinndds up my slit onto my clit.
Pushing the hood back so I have direct contact. "Oooohhhh! Fuck
me...Fuck me," I heave as he bites my nipple making me tighten my
soaked pale thighs around his flexed arm, momentarily.

I open my legs as he jerks his arm again and again, pumping my pussy
with his fingers. I'm lost in the moment, I'm following his lead, I
don't care about anything but right now. My eyes wander to the cars
passing. The sun has fallen and night shields me from the onlookers.
They pass not knowing that I'm getting my pussy finger banged by this
college student. They don't know that this boy's tongue on my hard
fucking nipple is about to make me fucking cum, again. John groans into
my nipple as he sucks harder, his fingers fucking me harder and firmer.
I feel him pressing on my g-spot as my face goes flush and my thighs
quiver.

"Yes... Yes... Ohh fuck.." I straighten my driving out and kiss the top
of his head, smelling his warm shampoo because I want more of him. My
right hand grabs his body underneath. Feeling his hard chest as his
pecs and abs flex with every fuck of my dripping pussy. My hand bumps
something wet and I explore reaching for it. I feel the thick head of
his cock pointing towards me and realize sometime while he was changing
positions he must've undone his pants. As my small palm wraps around
the shaft of his young cock I groan, "Oh my god, babyohmy god..."

His dick is longer than I'm used to. She thinks as she reaches,
stroking to the base and pulling to the head, again. Real 6-7 inch
cock. Young. Hard as a metal rod. Mmmm...

My hand barely fits around it as I squeeze pumping from base to tip.

It has been years since I've had a real cock in my hands, dildos can
only go so far, but feeling him flex inside my hand when I squeeze and
when I moan, hearing him pant harder the faster I jerk him... Oh
fuck... I'm so goddamn close.

He feels my hips writhing, hears my pants becoming guttural as he
finger fucks me. His pace is picking up as his two fingers cram inside
me faster, grinding on my g-spot so fast I start to lose control of my
body. "Ohff- God... yes..." I mumble as he stuffs my pussy. I tug on
his throbbing cock faster, I feel his precum on the tip and spread it
down the shaft, his balls bouncing on the back of my hand as I jerk
him. The sudden thought of sliding his young thick shaft down my lips
to touch the back my throat makes my mouth water and lick my lips. My
eyes and left hand have difficulty keeping focus on the road.

His lips switch to my left nipple sucking, licking, and biting, my
nipple eagerly craving more. His closer position gives me better angle
on his cock as glance down at it. I flick my hair from my face and bite
my lip, wondering how it tastes. John's thumb circles my clit faster
and faster with every hard fuck into my hairy pussy. His arm jerking in
and out between my thighs.

"Oh Fuck!" I cringe nearly releasing the steering wheel. "Don't stop!
Don't!- oHhh!" He doesn't. He picks up the speed. Finger fucking my
dripping cunt, I start to retreat my hips because I can't take how good
it feels. My head is swimming, my eyes are squinting. Fuck me. Fuck me.
Fuck me! "Fuck me!"

His right hand pounds my pussy, fucking me harder and harder. My tits
bounce on my bra as my body shakes, riding his fingers hard.

My thighs tremble trying to squeeze shut, but they can't as he
penetrates me. I hold my breath, clenching my eyes shut.

Deeper harder faster yes yes yes yes fuck me fuck me fuck me!!

"Oh my gOD!!" I scream feeling him on me, holding me to the seat as his
fingers fuck me so deep and grind so hard on my wet clit. "Yesss,
baby!" I squeeze his hard dick, unable to move as he paralyzes me with
his fingers pushed deep inside my pussy.

My pussy squirts on him and my hips as he continues to fuck me.

"Cummingg ohyes!" My legs raise to my chest then back down fighting to
get control. I shudder as I empty on his finger. His tongue making a
long drag on my nipple. "Ooohhh..." My hips bucking into his hand
violently.

A wave goes through my body as I go loose. Collapsing.

My body jolting as I gain control of my limbs.

It strikes me like a splash of cold water.

Fuck! Eyes are still closed!

When I open my eyes I know it's too late already. It's a sea of red
brake lights ahead of me as we fly forward on cruise control. A traffic
jam of some kind has every car and truck stopped to a standstill. My
left leg is laid across the arm rest on the door, my right is hung
useless over the center console stick shift.

"No ahhh!" I scream as both my arms cover my face in an X. The car
screeches and fishtails. I clench as I feel the seat belt strain on my
body and neck. I hear a tumble on the floor. My breath holds waiting
for the crash.

The crash that never came. The strain on my belt laxes as I fall back
into my seat. My arms move down slowly and I see the rear of the
tractor trailer. No tail lights or brake lights because my car stopped
too close to see them.

Jesus! We didn't crash! The fucking car stopped!

I look down and see John's upper body tucked under the front console
and his right palm pressed hard on the brake pad. He looks up to me
wide eyed and breathing heavy, maybe in shock or fear or both. I pant,
shaking my head looking down at him. He closes his eyes smiling shaking
his head back, laughing. I toss my head back laughing harder.

"Oh my god, hahaha!" I laugh taking a deep breath.

"Close one, huh?" John says laughing into his left hand.

My eyes fall to my chest where my shirt's open and my thick breasts are
sticking out over my bra. My hands jump to closing my chest as I look
out the window at the neighboring cars, "shit!" I say checking for any
suspecting eyes. I pull my bra over my tits shaking my head still. "Oh
my god..."

"You keep saying that," John says, still laughing. My foot replaces his
hand on the brake as he sits up zipping his pants up. "We should really
find a rest stop to... rest at."

I smile looking over at him, biting my lip. "Read my mind."

The stresses of this morning that once clouded my thoughts are a
distant memory as we pull into a rest stop. And while I know the
troubles life gave me yesterday will not disappear from simply ignoring
them, I park the car with a smile in my heart and welcoming the
unexpected escape life has given me.

Story Tags: milf; finger%20banging; car%20sex; female%20orgasm; cougar;
bbw%20orgasm; cougar%20and%20cub; milf%20sex; fingering; older%20woman

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