Teasing Him in Public

There is a special kind of power in being the girl who starts something in public and dares a man to finish it. I discovered this about myself on a drive up to the scenic overlook last month, and I have been insufferable about it ever since. If you want a public tease exhibitionist story, baby, this is the one, because I did not just tease him. I dismantled him.

It started innocently enough. We were driving up to the overlook to watch the sunset, one of those winding roads with the whole valley spread out below, and I was bored in the passenger seat. Bored is dangerous for me. Bored is how everything starts. I had on a short skirt, the kind that rides up when you sit, and about ten minutes into the drive, I decided to stop sitting like a lady.

I slid down in the seat a little, let my knees fall apart, and I watched his eyes flick down and then snap back to the road. I smiled to myself. Then I moved my hand to my own thigh, slow, casual, like I was just resting it there. His knuckles went white on the steering wheel. I inched my fingers higher, under the hem of my skirt, and I heard him breathe in sharp through his teeth.

The road was empty. The sun was going down in this gorgeous orange wash over the hills. And I was in the passenger seat of a moving car with my hand between my own legs, touching myself slowly while the man I was with tried to remember how to drive. I kept it subtle at first, just pressure through my panties, little shifts of my hips, but I made sure he could see. I wanted him to see. That was the whole point.

He told me to stop. He said it in this strangled voice that meant the exact opposite, and I just laughed and said, make me. So he tried to keep his eyes on the road, and I kept going, and within a few minutes I had my panties pushed aside and my fingers were doing exactly what they wanted to do, and I was breathing hard with my head tipped back against the seat. A truck passed us going the other way, and I did not stop. I just turned my head and smiled at the driver like the most innocent girl in the world while my hand kept moving.

My date was losing his mind. He was gripping the wheel, he was shifting in his seat, and he kept glancing over, and every glance made me go a little faster, a little more obvious. By the time we pulled into the overlook parking lot, I was right on the edge, flushed and shaking, and he threw the car into park so hard it rocked.

There were maybe six other cars in the lot. Couples watching the sunset. Totally normal evening. And he looked at me, and I looked at him, and I did not stop what I was doing. I kept my hand exactly where it was, kept my eyes on his, and I finished right there in the passenger seat with the sun going down and strangers twenty feet away. I came with my hand over my mouth to keep quiet, and my whole body went tight and then loose, and he watched every second of it like it was the most important thing he had ever seen.

Then he snapped. He got out of the car, walked around to my side, opened my door, and pulled me out. I thought we were going for a walk. We were not going for a walk. He walked me to the back of the car, out of sight of the other parked cars behind a row of trees at the edge of the lot, pressed me face-first against the trunk, yanked my skirt up, and took me right there with the sunset happening behind us. His hands were rough on my hips, his breathing was ragged in my ear, and he told me I was going to be the death of him, and I laughed because he was probably right.

It was fast and filthy and perfect. The trunk was warm from the sun. Somewhere below us the valley was turning gold and pink. And I was bent over a car in a public parking lot getting exactly what I had spent the whole drive asking for. When he finished, he stayed pressed against my back for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, and then he started laughing, this disbelieving, wrecked laugh, and I joined in because what else do you do.

We drove home with the windows down and my hand on his thigh the whole way, just to keep him nervous. He kept giving me these looks, like he was recalculating everything he thought he knew about me. At a red light near my place, he said he had never met anyone like me. I said he had never driven me anywhere before, so he could not know that yet.

Here is what I have decided since that night. The drive is now my favorite part of any date. The car, the road, the possibility of being seen. I have started wearing skirts everywhere, and I have started sitting in passenger seats with plans. He does not know it yet, but next time we go to the overlook, I am not waiting until we park. I am starting the second we leave the driveway. And if he thinks he can handle it this time, well. We will see about that.