It was the same old grind every day. The long commute to work. Monica loved her job, but hated the drive. It was the typical modern conundrum. She loved where she lived and the quality of life there was exactly what she wanted. Where she lived was a quiet, almost country setting. The people were friendly and the atmosphere was laid back and there was none of the high pressure that she experienced in her professional life.
Monica worked as a graphic designer for an advertising firm in the center of the city.
After a while she had begun to recognize some of the regulars on the commute. She could tell if she was running late by where she would see these vehicles.
The drive home was no less aggravating, but the stress level was down. She found she had time to think as she made her way slowly home. The same vehicles she saw in the morning would be going her direction in the late afternoon. She had given them names and personalities. She smiled as she wondered if they did the same.
Just ahead of her and in the right lane was ‘Brad’. That’s what he looked like to her. His blondish hair always seemed tousled. ‘He must be a construction worker,’ she thought as she looked at his truck.
His arm and his face were deeply tanned from the outdoors. There was no ring on the hand that tapped on the top of the door of the truck. His hands looked strong.
She felt her pulse raise as she thought about his hands on her. What would they feel like? What would his arms feel like as he picked her up? She wondered what color his eyes were, they were always hidden behind a pair of what looked to be Ray Bans.
He looked over at her briefly and smiled. She felt her cheeks flush. It was a warm smile. She could see him smiling like that at her and saying, “Hi, how was your day.” Then putting his arms around her and kissing him.
A shiver of delight coursed through her body as she wondered what his lips would taste like. Her tongue licked at her lips briefly as she imagined his tongue moving past her lips and into her mouth. She could feel his lips pressing hard on hers, his mouth trying to devour hers.
What would he smell like after a shower? She loved the smell of a man after he had showered. She could see him walking towards her, the towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still wet. That lazy smile gave her butterflies.
What would she find if she pulled on the towel? His still flaccid cock sprouting from a thatch of dark hair? Would she see him harden in anticipation of things to come? As she imagined his manhood stiffening with each beat of his hear she could feel a warmth spread through her thighs.
Her cheeks flushed as she glanced over at him, pretending to be checking her mirror. She could tell that he had a bit of stubble on his face. She wished she could reach over and feel its rough texture.
His hand was on the steering wheel. Her breath quickened as she could feel his fingers unbuttoning her blouse and then pulling it from her skirt. His strong hands moved and slowly went up her back to where her bra fastened.
“Yes,” she whispered as she felt him unfasten her bra.
Her hand slid up her thighs in the car as she imagined his hands slowly move over her breasts. She thrust her chest forward as his hands completely cupped both of her breasts.
What would he feel like in her hand when she reached down between his legs? She imagined the feeling of his smooth, hard flesh in her cool hand. What would he look like? Would he be short and thick? Long and thin? She stared at the fingers that were still drumming at the top of the truck door. They were long. Was it true what they said, big hands, big cock?
She would pull him into the bathroom and set him down in the chair. She liked how the lather of his shaving cream smelled. She straddled him in the chair and began to cover his face with the thick, creamy lather. Smiling, she dipped the razor in the hot water and began to carefully scrape the stubble from his face. With each stroke she removed the two-day growth from his face.
Every now and then she would reach down and rub the tip of his cock-head with her fingers. She could hear him moan as her fingers rubbed the slick pre-cum over this swollen head.
With a small hand towel that she had dipped in the hot water, she cleaned the remaining lather from his face and then she took the cologne that was her favorite and applied it to his cheeks.
Traffic was at a near standstill as she looked over at him again. What would he be thinking if he knew that her fingers were mere inches from her wetness as she thought about him? How would he smile if he knew that he was turning her on?
She felt her nipples grow hard from his imagined touch. Deep down she hoped he looked over again and saw them poking from her red, silky blouse. She wished she could reach in her bra and squeeze them.
She squirmed in her seat as she felt him pinching her nipples lightly in her mind. Her hand would move up and down his steely length, feeling it growing with each gentle stroke.