Rush Hour

She called in sick. She was not sick.

She told me she now had all day to torment me. I knew it was going to be a very unproductive Friday on my side of the screen. The pictures started coming in early; they did not stop until I went home. I sat there at my desk, hard and worked up, all damn day. Every trucker that I knew seemed to call, wanting to talk all fucking afternoon. I just wanted to get back to my inbox.

Fuck!

Frustration was boiling over. It was busy as hell over here and everyone was scrambling around with end of the week bullshit. I, however, had my head was in la-la land. I literally could not concentrate, she had me fixed. I would stand up to walk to the fax machine and have to hide my hard on. I get out of my seat about once every five minutes; yeah so…let’s just say it was awkward. By the time five o’clock rolled around I had a half dollar sized stain on the left side of my pants from the literal fountain of precum pouring out of me for the last few hours. I went to the bathroom and reached my hand in to discover that I was covered in it.

I reached for the paper towels.

I walked past 80’s Hair on the way out, she said to have a good weekend, and I don’t even know if I looked at her. I had a one track mind; all I could think about was tearing her apart. Had I been driving home to her I would have ripped her to pieces. I got in the car and waited for the phone call. At this point I was just praying that she would lay off the dirty talk for the next thirty minutes. I was begging.

I had one hour to get to work at the deli. I could not work four more hours with the hotties at the deli with these aching blue balls. Mercy…please.

I could hear the low tone and dampened breathing as soon as I answered the phone, no rest for the weary, I see. She was not letting up. I felt myself pressing on the accelerator harder and harder, I am going to go home and solve this, and I don’t care if I am late. It started to get really heated and I kept taking my hand off the wheel to rub myself through my pants. I was making good time, maybe I wouldn’t be late. The speedometer read 92…I would have plenty of time.

Until of course I come up over the hill into Hebron and see the line of red break lights.

Now I was pissed, there is never traffic on 275 on my way home. Why the hell was today any damn different? I wouldn’t have started talking dirty or playing with myself had I known this was going to happen. She didn’t seem to care, just kept moaning away; clearly delighted by my predicament. I could just hang up, let the blood rush back to my head and head off to work. That, however, was not going to happen.

Sometimes you get so horny that your better judgment just goes out the window. It causes some people to say I love you, others will fuck without a condom and others still will give up their hard earned dollars. No fair reader, I will not be doing anything that reckless…

…In my case I will be jerking off in a traffic jam.

With the phone on speaker resting on my shoulder, one hand on my cock and one hand on the wheel I listened to her tell me all the horrible things she was going to do to me in three weeks. The phone kept slipping off my shoulder and instead of taking my hand off my cock I took it off the wheel. I was having a tough time keeping my face straight, people kept looking over at me. She loved it.

We soon crept past the burned out wreckage of what looked like a Ford Taurus, I saw open road ahead of me and I hit the gas. I had twenty minutes left before 6:00 and a half an hour’s worth of driving left to get to work, I also had a little slut in my ear begging me to cum for her. By this point I was back on 71/75 north with three lanes of traffic moving 80 miles an hour all around me. There was no way that everyone I passed didn’t know exactly what I was doing.

“You are a dirty little cunt; all these people can see me jerking off.”

I was getting close. The combination of the speed, the public and the slut on the phone had my legs shaking and my palms sweating. I know that trucker just saw me, probably not what he was hoping for. I could feel myself slipping over the edge as she whispered and moaned in my ear, I struggled to keep my eyes from rolling back. I started squirting all over my shirt and pants…it…was…everywhere.

I listened to her get off and told her I had to go, you see, I did not think about how I was going to clean up this mess I just made with only 15 minutes to spare before work. Thank God for that extra T shirt on the floor in the backseat. I struggled to get the cum soaked shirt off without getting it all over myself and managed to get the clean one on. I looked out my left window and saw something on the inside of it. Yes, I came on my window.

I rolled down the windows and lit a cigarette, the wind drying my sweaty forehead and palms. I thought about that Friday and everything that we had talked about. That Friday was much more than sexy talk and dirty pictures.

Much…much more.

I pulled up in front of the deli at five minutes after six. Throwing out my cigarette, the door bell chimed as I walked in. The short blonde was working and happy to see me.

“Hey P! How was your day?”

I just shook my head with the biggest of grins.