Rush Hour Remedy

She was sitting in her car, stuck in traffic. It was a blazing summer day, and seemed to be getting only hotter at rush hour. The concrete seemed to radiate heat. Even with the AC on, she was soaked in a thin layer of sweat. She couldn't wait to get home and get out of her work clothes. She had important meetings today, which meant two things: extra stress, and wearing her most formal business clothes. Her best business clothes, however, were dark colors, and a wool skirt. Not suited for summer. She pulled up her skirt as much as she could to expose her thighs, and tilted the vent to try to get as much cool air on her skin.

The line of cars inched forward.

The air felt good on her legs. It sent a shiver down her?not a cold shiver, but a like a tickle from a caress. Her fingertips lilted up and down her inner thigh, giving her a calming and pleasant sensation. She was wearing nylons, which she rarely did, and it was a curious sensation to run fingertip circles on her smooth thighs.

The line of cars inched forward.

She let her legs part as she slid her hand over the fabric between her legs. Rubbing herself distracted her from the stop and go traffic. She pressed harder and tried to tilt her hips to find the right angle. The nylon was dampening, and she couldn't tell if it was from the heat or her rousing excitement.

The line of cars inched forward.

She wanted out of her restrictive office clothes. She raised her butt off the seat and hooked her almanbahis yeni giriş thumbs in the elastic waist of her nylons to attempt to pull them down. With the seatbelt on, it was a challenge. She had to stop each time the traffic moved. Finally, she had her nylons to her knees. She waited until the traffic was at a full stop and then, throwing her car into park, she kicked off her heels and, reached down, and freed her legs from the nylons.

Phew, that's better, she thought, as she jammed the car back into drive and wadded her nylons into her purse.

With so much squirming in her seat, her skirt had worked itself up around her waist. Without a second thought, she slipped off her panties and shoved them in her purse, too.

Traffic was moving a little more steadily, and she was feeling more relaxed as she drove, now naked from the waist down. The AC on her now bare legs felt good.

Absentmindedly, her fingers returned between her legs. Wearing panties and nylons all day had matted the hair. She wondered if she should get a Brazilian. Being bare might be nice in this heat, she considered. She was imagining her pussy lips smooth and exposed as her fingers slid up and down her folds.

It felt nice, though, to rake her fingertips through her thick patch of pubic hair. The tangle of hair was damp with her wetness, getting damper as she played with herself.

Over the winter, she'd enjoyed not shaving or trimming. She hated the almanbahis giriş rash of welts from shaving. She hadn't really made a deliberate choice to let her hair grow out, but little by little, by letting more time pass between shaves, and eventually, just putting it off, she'd let her natural curls come back.

She reached over to her purse and retrieved her hairbrush. She'd brought it to fix her hair just before her meeting, and now used it to comb the hair between her legs. It was fun to comb up the hair that had been matted all day and see it spring up into a soft triangle of curls. The late afternoon sun slanted in through the windshield and glinted off it, turning it almost golden.

Other cars sometimes moved ahead and sometimes fell back as the traffic crept forward. She wondered if anyone could see what she was doing.

So much attention on her pussy had made it swollen and sensitive. She pressed the hairbrush handle against her, and rubbed it slowly. That felt wonderful, and she almost closed her eyes.

It was hard to pay attention to the traffic as it inched ahead. The sensation of the hairbrush was sending waves of pleasure through her whole body. Her hips were arching up to meet the pressure of the hairbrush. The tip of the handle slipped into her, and she gasped. She hadn't started out wanting to penetrate herself with her own hairbrush, but feeling it inside her was exactly what her body craved.

She pushed the handle deeper almanbahis adres into her, to the hilt of the bristles. Shocks of pleasure surged through her. While watching the traffic ahead, she moved the hairbrush handle slowly in and out, amazed by how good it felt.

She raised her left knee against the wheel to steer. It was a little dangerous, she knew, and certainly inappropriate. Both of those facts turned her on even more. With her right hand, she slid the hairbrush handle in and out of her soaking pussy while she rubbed her clit with her left. With both hands working, the sensation began to build.

Traffic was creeping forward. Her hands continued their steady pace, quickening slightly as the intensity built. This is how she could make herself cum at home. She could feel it now, starting deep inside and building. Building. Beginning in waves.

She climaxed for several minutes, with aftershocks coming in bursts.

She could not remember the last time she had an orgasm that hard. Maybe it was using the brush handle. Or maybe the release of the stressful day. Or maybe the naughtiness of making herself cum in the middle of a sea of other end-of-day commuters. Everyone else locked in their cars, with windows up and air conditioners on full blast. They had no idea. No idea at all. And here she was, in her car naked from the waist down, legs open, slipping the brush out of her and sliding it, still sticky, into her purse with her nylons and panties.

Eventually, her breathing, her body, returned to normal, as she drove home.

"There you are," her husband said as she walked in the door and tossed her keys. "Work late?"

"No, not really," she said. "Just traffic."

"Real bad, hun?"

"Not that bad," she said.