Suddenly I no longer regretted what had happened earlier, well maybe the unfaithfulness I regretted hugely but not the orgasm I experienced. My mind was full of such contradictions.Dinner was as strained as usual, we couldn’t go to an upmarket restaurant because of what Graham was wearing and Graham was already taking work calls between courses to disrupt any chance of cosy relationship chats. We both washed down our pizza and tiramisu with plenty of red wine which at least raised the spirits of the restaurant owner and then staggered sensibly merry back to our apartment for our last night.As we walked through the still warm air, the sounds of laughing, merry young people mixed with beeping taxis and scooters all around us, Graham grabbed my hand in a final attempt at demonstrating we were together. I knew he would expect sex when we got back, normal for a “guy in a relationship” I guess, and I insisted we stop for a gin and tonic at a bar whilst I steeled myself for the usual. He continues to saw into me throughout my orgasm, keeping me primed for another.I moan in happiness, his digits still inside me, and turn towards him. "I thought we were driving?" I hadn't even noticed we pulled off the road, but there we were, stopped along the side of the highway just out of reach of the nearest streetlamp.His eyes dance devilishly as his tongue darts down to my chest, flicking across one of my still erect nipples. "Alright, you got me," He murmurs into my skin. "I want the car sex, too." I smile into our proceeding kiss, finally winning. My hand delves into his pants as my tongue dives into his mouth. I find his cock erect, and it springs from his boxers, pleasantly slapping his stomach as it bobs, waiting for something warm and wet in which to encase itself. Meanwhile, his tongue runs over my guns and plays with my own, mimicking more intimate motions. But I don't need the foreplay anymore; I'd just cum on his hand, for Christ's sake! I think I'm primed enough.
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