Don’t stop

driving for two hours
caressing your knee

when i took off my hand
you put it back
and said “don’t stop”

“i won’t,” i replied

a playful glance
a smile
sliding up my hand
your flower printed
summer dress
eagerly making way

spreading legs
one on the dashboard
knee against the window
i felt the smooth fabric
of your panties
and the shapes
underneath

warm
a little moist
a little sigh said
“don’t stop,”
as you pulled
white fabric to the side
so wet
so warm
swollen
“i won’t”

pulling up
to some traffic lights
i wanted to pull back
my hand
you looked at me
and said “don’t stop”

so i didn’t

“that truck driver
seems to enjoy the view,”
you said
quite relaxed, actually

bending over your lap
– that warm sweet scent –
i saw him
bald asshole,
looking down at us
with a grin
filthy fucker
“don’t stop,” you said
“i won’t,” i said

– what the fuck –
i loved that day
just the two of us
on the road
not caring about
anything or anyone
you were crazy that day
and i followed you
without thinking
without doubt

two months later
i asked you to stop

packing your bag
saying it was fun
but it was over
how you met someone else
how you loved him now

when you walked out
i cried
and i begged you to stop

“i won’t,”
you said

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