Growing Concern - 10

I drove like a crazy person, in those first few minutes.  Seconds to leave my suburb, moments to hit the highway, screaming tires and honking horns, I wove from lane to lane tears streaming down my face, my body and mind a tormented writhing ball of confusion.  Furies shrieking in my ears, my hands clutching at the wheel, groping for purchase on the gear shift, feet fumbling for the pedals.

It was a standard transmission.  The thought finally penetrated into my hormone and anger soaked brain.  It was a standard, my car was an automatic.  Come to think of it, my car didn’t have this kind of horsepower, and I was fairly certain it had a top on it.

Shit, I had stolen Sarah’s car.  She must have left the keys in the ignition.  In my frenzied and tormented state running out the door I somehow hadn’t even noticed.  My mind occupied with the images of her riding my boyfriend, of those tits occupying his entire world, the moans of their pleasure filling my head while my hands tried to rake the image of those wondrous soft glistening masses bouncing over his writhing abdomen out of my head as I just got more and more worked up, heat building in my...

I pulled over, found a parking space in a nice dark underground lot under some nameless mall, and rubbed my aching pussy to a soul shattering, moan stifling, mind clearing three quick orgasms, in a belated and half futile effort to purge these conflicting images from my lust soaked brain.

As my last gasping shuddering breath left my lips I tried to gather my thoughts about me.  I blushed and folded my legs back down from the dash, and tucked my breasts back into my ill fitting shirt.  It was funny, maybe it was their new size and sensitivity, or maybe it was the effect of Sarah’s monstrous mounds still bouncing in my minds eye, but my breasts had never played much of a roll in my self pleasure before.  But today, leaned back in this car with my legs thrown up over the steering wheel my hands couldn’t seem to get enough.  Every tweak, every grope and caress just drove me higher, drew more pleasure out of those new tantalizing tits that thrust so conflictingly from my chest.

I managed to avoid honking the horn, and tried to regain my dignity remembering with burning embarrassment the two men and one woman who had walked by during my little digital vacation, to their horror or perhaps delight seeing a woman all to carried away to remember to put up the top of windows on her cherry red convertible as she rubbed one, or three, out to a sputtering and staticy radio.

I took a deep breath, and took stock of my situation.  First and most urgently, I was in a stolen car.  Oddly, I figured it was a safe risk.  There was no way Sarah had payed for it, and there was no chance whoever had given it to her was going to report it stolen after whatever it was she did to get it from them in the first place.  Add to that, as self centered as Sarah was acting, as amazingly narcissistic, the odds that she even knew the license plate number of her new toy were probably next to nil.  Thank god for small blessings I suppose.

I moved down the list, reviewing my problems in order of urgency, taking some solace from the insanity of the last few days in making a mental checklist.  I was barely dressed, my clothes didn’t fit and were barely hanging off my altered frame.  Worse, it wouldn’t be easy to fix since I seemed to have stormed out of the house without my wallet, credit cards, or any identification.  I considered going back for it, but quickly dismissed the thought as insane, it was just too risky, what would happen if I got sucked back into that writhing sweaty world of lust, would I ever find my way out again?

I put my head down on the wheel, realizing just how fucked I was.  No id, no money.  I couldn’t go back to work, not unless I wanted to end up another drone to a huge titted queen bee.  She had taken my boyfriend, my home, she had taken my job, she had even taken my body away from me.  And she didn’t seem to care, or even notice.