She was quiet as we drove, but I could feel her excitement, could hear it in the way she breathed, a little labored, rushed. I did nothing to fill the silence, preferring to let the tension build until she had to ask:

"Where are we going?"

"My place." I heard her draw in a deeper breath. "Touch yourself," I said, matter of factly.

"You want me - what?"

"Touch yourself. For me. Now."

There was a beat of silence, and then out of the corner of my eye I saw her hand begin to move to her lap.

"Not there." She froze, looked at me. "Your nipples," I said, "play with your nipples. Do not stop until I tell you."

She moved her hands to her breasts, under her shirt, and I saw her fingers beging to work. "Very good, " I said quietly. "Keep at it."

We drove the last few miles that way, this tall, beautiful woman pinching and pulling her nipples in my passenger seat, letting out little gasps when she pinched a bit past the point of pleasure. I smiled, thinking about how I would soon be helping her redefine that point.

Her breathing became even more rushed, and she was starting to thrust forward against the seatbelt, as if willing herself into the pinching fingers. When she threw her head bck, eyes closed, I said "Don't."

"H-hh-huh?" she asked, looking at me open mouthed, still fondling herself.

"Don't cum."

"But -"

"Don't cum."

She stared at me, her big blue eyes filled with puzzlement and lust. It had been too long for this woman. She would do anything I said. Which, of course, was perfect for where the evening was headed.

"This is it," I said, driving up to the house.