Van Go

Warning!  Adult sexual content.  You must be of legal age in your country to read this blog.  And don’t proceed if you don’t want to know …

“I will pick you up in the van.”

Andrew* called it a van, but really it was more of a truck SUV crossover.  Lots of room, especially with both rows of seats out.  We could roll out a bed of memory foam and sleep comfortably … as long as my 6’4″ boyfriend was diagonal.  I could tuck in on either side.  The front seats were luxurious.  Built for two.  We’ve tried.  I’m surprised I don’t have a scar on the outside of my ankle as well.

I teased Andrew about the pimp-mobile gold.

“What if we get stopped for a check?” I asked, changing the subject in my head.  We had packed as lightly as possible.  Jeans, tshirts, shorts, bathing suits, sexy red dresses.  Towels. Bondage cuffs and tape.  A blindfold.  Lubrication.  Toys.

Andrew knew why I was nervous and cast me a sideways glance as he merged with traffic on Highway 400.

“Kitten … you have the Ace of Spades.  Any officer would believe us then …”

I squirmed uncomfortably at the reminder of Tristan.  Ouch.  How long was the ride up to cottage country?

We had decided to head north for the weekend, with no particular plans on where or when or how.  The ultimate weekend drive with no destination in mind.  We would land at a campsite, an inn or park underneath the stars.  The van had the largest moonroof I had ever seen.  I wanted to sleep by Andrew’s side and stare at the stars.

We even brought mosquito netting – which still hangs in my bedroom – to veil our bodies from bugs.

Andrew and I chatted about our week.  Our conversation always flowed once we were together.  Like the best of friends who could break apart then seamlessly come back together and pick up where they left off.

Traffic was bumper to bumper.  I know you are not supposed to do this – try telling me not to do something! – but I took my shoes off and stuck my tanned legs and feet out the side window.  We weren’t going anywhere fast.  Andrew leaned over to squeeze his hand between my cutoff jean shorts and touch me.

I closed my eyes and smiled.  His touch was my weakness.  It didn’t matter where or when or why or how.  Or who was around.  Andrew knew how to arouse me.  For minutes, we creeped along the highway … with Andrew’s fingers and thumb caressing me.

“Let’s stop at Symposium.” he said.  Quick lane change right and we exited at Highway 7.  Symposium was one of our hotspots.  We’d meet for dinner then head to his house or mine.

Andrew and I decided to grab dinner – since we had no real camping gear – and wait for traffic to thin.  I slipped my Converse running shoes back on my bare feet, straightened my hair and fanned myself in the heat.

In no hurry, we had a delightful dinner of pasta and wine.  Eating dinner with Andrew was always a sensual event.  Our eyes spoke a private language.  Our mouths twitched at a secret touch beneath the table.  My toes were rarely on the ground.  Above the table our hands were clasped.  We appeared to be any couple having a lovely dinner together.  Completely engaged with eachother … no phones in our way.

Below the table we were lovers.

We decided to finish the bottle of wine and wait for an hour our two to continue our drive north in heavy traffic.   Once dinner was paid for, we shopped for a weekend necessity that I had forgotten … a g-string.

Andew and I strolled across the parking lot to La Vie En Rose and hunted through the racks for lacy nothings and sexy wear.  I found a matching bra and panty set I wanted, so off we went to the change rooms.

Coast was clear … Andrew pulled me into a change room.  We kissed … quietly.  Never letting go, he tried to undress me completely.  White tank top … jean shorts … summery white bra with little daisies … and matching panties.  My hand stopped him at the underwear.

Since I was in running shoes, I wasn’t sure I could stand on tip toes.  Especially with Tristan inside.  So I lowered myself to the change room bench.  Looking up – big brown eyes so trusting and full of love – I pushed him back against the wall and unzipped his jeans.  Underwear pushed aside … I found what I was looking for.

Andrew is a big boy.  He is a masterpiece.

I start making love with my mouth and he groans.  I look up – alarmed – and tell him with my eyes to be quiet.  He closes his eyes and digs his hands into my hair.

I know exactly how to please him.  I’ve done this one hundred times.  But I had to teach him to love it.  When I met Andrew he told me that he couldn’t come orally … I said,

“Challenge Accepted.”

He murmurs quiet encouragement to me and before long, I have my just dessert.  Smiling, fingers on the corners of my mouth, I put my clothes back on while he watches.  We escaped the change room unnoticed … and grab a handful of g-strings in the small 5 for $25 dollar bin.  White.  Black.  Red.  Lacy gray and hot pink.

As we are heading to the cash, I spot a beautiful ensemble in baby blue.  A delicate pushup bra with double straps and matching bottoms.  I add those to the pile and we pay.  Laughing we wonder if we should provide a tip for the room!

Once back at the truck, Andrew opens the back and hands me a bottle of water.  I quench my thirst and climb into the back.  Andrew starts the engine to get the air conditioning going.  The parking lot has thinned of cars … dusk is settling in.

He hops in the back to join me and closes the back door.

“Your turn.” he smiles.  Andrew never once left me high and dry.

I squirm as he unzips my jean shorts and pulls them down.  Finally the undies come off.  I kick off my gray Converse running shoes and leave them in a pile at the back of the truck.

Andrew undresses as well and climbs on top, pushing his way in before we are fully undressed.  The thought of the van rocking crosses my mind … despite the negative thoughts, our bodies covfefed.

I explode.  With him.  We are teenagers once again.  Our passion for each other is unequaled.

He hands me his tshirt to clean up.  We drink water to quench our heat thirst.  Neither of us can move for a few minutes so we just stretch.  There aren’t many stars this close to Toronto, but we can see a few.  We lay back, my head on his shoulder … and try to decide how far we want to go tonight …

Once we catch our breath, we roll out of the back and into our front seats.  We turn to each other and grin.  The weekend is off to a fucking fantastic start!

Stay tuned for the rest of the weekend!  I might have to start a new blog because that journey was quite wild.  Not sure the readership is ready.

Have a rocking weekend!


*Name(s) changed to protect the guilty!

Read the Fox Blog:  hear what the Fox really has to say

© Lisa Jobson 2017

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