During my recent sabbatical/rehab stint from the poll I had decided that a road trip was well worth the price of gas if I can lie back and soak up the attentions of the driver's (my girlfriend's) right hand. She should really focus on the road…YEAH RIGHT!
We had nothing but time, so we could take things slowly I said to myself—this is what we love. For the length of an average song (perhaps "Slow Hand" by the Pointer Sisters?), I could (and did) glide my hand languidly up and down her thigh, coming closer to her crotch with every upstroke. Then slide my hand up and let my palm rest on her pubic mound. Keep it there. Take in the scenery. Look at that neat old barn!!! You got my IPhone handy? I wanna take a picture!! Mmm-hmm. Nice!
True, you have no leverage. This limits you to gentle touching. We love gentle touching though, among other things.
A feather light stroke over her pants or panties (don’t rush it) makes our nerves stand on end. I resisted the urge to delve deeper (remember Michelle, this isn’t a venture capital research project). Okay, then I decide, it's about time for her pants to come off. When you know, you just know. And maybe, uh, park—over there, now. Yeah, just off the road, amongst those trees. Once she's naked from the waist down, I can then lightly slide a wet finger around her clitoris, then stroke just above it (her clitoral shaft runs under there) with a side-to-side motion. (sorry for being so tecnical...hehehe) When it seemed like she might climax, I just kept it up. You'll get your turn Michelle…I told myself. And you know what…I really did
