Your erotic stories

Here I was, in the huge backseat of a restored '57 Chevy Bel-Air with a woman whose name I couldn't remember; her mouth, tasting of whiskey and tobacco, kissing me, her callused, sure, hands slipping off my panties. My wide hips tipping up to let her, my mouth slack and open to her demanding, slippery, tongue; my head tilted, eyes open, staring at the rivulets of rain streaking the fogged side window.

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