SOCCER—CHAPTER 28

This is subject to all the usual provisos:
Graphic sex follows.
I'm not responsible for you reading this if you are underage.
The contents are purely fiction and all characters are figments of my imagination.
This story is copyrighted and any reproduction requires the explicit consent of the author; i.e. me.
AIDS/HIV and other STD do not exist in my fiction but do in reality-if you attempt to live the lifestyle depicted please take precautions.

"If you lack the maturity to grasp this disclaimer, then under no circumstances read this story without guidance of someone more mature (to quote Deirdre)."

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SOCCER—CHAPTER 28

We drove for about 90 minutes and crossed the border back into Germany . Gerda was an aggressive driver, pulling past trucks and other slower traffic. Soon after we were back in Germany she pulled into a service complex. I filled the gas tank and then we ate some factory sandwiches in the café. Dry ham and plastic industrial cheese I think.

As we got to the car Gerda tossed me the keys. “Sie treiben.” It was my turn to drive the car.

I pulled back out onto the Autobahn while Gerda lit up another cigarette, exhaling through the cracked window. She’d been almost silent since we left Amsterdam .

“You have fun with me in… Niederlande ?” I nodded. I was concentrating on overtaking two trucks while aware there was a Mercedes sportscar screaming down the highway wanting me out of the fast lane. I pulled in after getting by the trucks. The coupe roared by. Gerda sipped her can of soda.

“Have you in me fallen in love?” She exhaled and stubbed out the butt of her Marlboro. Loaded question…

Had I ever been in love? I didn’t know. I’d dated Robin for two years in high school and always felt, then, that I was in love with her even though it was never verbalized or physically consummated. Now Beate… I had swooned for her and the few months we’d been together had been great, and I always felt at the time that she was the one. But since we broke up I hadn’t really pined. I had affection for some of the others. So how did I feel about Gerda?

“No. I like you. I had a good time with you in Amsterdam . But I don’t have any dreams we could have a life together.”

“Gut.”

Gerda lit another cigarette, and wound down the window a little. For some reason I felt like smoking too. I took the pack of Marlboros and lit one up. It was y first drag of tobacco in four years.

“Soll ich dir einen blasen?” Gerda’s hand caressed my thigh. Did I want her to blow me? The stiffening prick in my pants said yes.

I was driving down the freeway at 80 miles per hour and Gerda had my fly unzipped and my hardening cock in her hands in a couple of seconds. Her hot breath sent shimmers down my spine.

She took another sip of soda, and without swallowing the drink, sank her mouth around half my length. Her lips, tongue, and the cold soda bubbles just raised my excitement level. Very slowly her lips pulled back till only my cockhead was in her mouth. Her tongue started to needle my come-hole and I felt the tiny bubbles swirl. She did this a few times, maybe taking 10 or 15 seconds to go down and then back out half the length of my erection. I felt a surge of pre-come, and the soda mixed with the seminal fluid that dripped out.

Gerda released my cock from her mouth, but jerked slowly at the same rhythm. She smiled and swallowed.

“Drive slower…” I’d dropped the speed to about 60 while Gerda had been working me with her mouth. I eased off on the pedal. Gerda’s hand movement slowed as the speedometer dropped to 50.

“Jetzt schneller…” I put foot down on the gas and eased the car back to 60. Her hand moved up-and-down faster.

“Understand?” I nodded. She lowered her face back onto my cock.

I pressed down on the gas some more. Gerda’s mouth worked faster. The traffic was light. I hit 80 and Gerda got into a pleasurable rhythm on my stick. She had unbuttoned the waistband of my pants and pulled them down to get more access. I drove for a couple of miles and then accelerated up to 90. Gerda’s head started bobbing up and down my cock. When I hit a hundred I felt like her mouth was a machine.

I was real close to coming but we hit some traffic. A truck was overtaking another slower one. My foot hit the clutch and the car started slowing down. So did Gerda’s mouth: it was excruciatingly slow at 50 but I felt my load swelling.

As soon as the truck pulled into the right-hand lane I put my foot on the gas. She started pumping my cock as the car accelerated… 70… 80… 90… 95… the tachometer was red-lining. I started to come. Gerda pulled her mouth off but jacked me off with her hand. It was a blur when I glanced down. The first load of spunk hit her in forehead. The next onto her grinning lips. The third creamed onto her cheek. Then across her nose and an eyelid. A couple of smaller spurts just dribbled out over the dome of my prick.

Gerda sat back up in the bucket seat just as we passed a police car stopped on the shoulder writing up a ticket. I slowed down. The wind breezed over my semi-rigid cock when Gerda wound down her window. She puffed on her Marlboro, strings of my come splayed over face. Some dribble down her lip onto her chin but just as it was about to drip on her blouse she scooped it up with the side of her index finger, and then sucked the come into her mouth. She took another drag and flicked the cigarette out the window.

With some tissues from her purse she wiped her face clean, and then my groin. She got my pants back on though my privates still felt sticky. We were getting close to home.