Tuesday Turn-On: A Rush Hour

I've spent half of my lifetime commutes in traffic jams. In fact, most of my driver's training was conducted on packed roads and slow-moving freeways. Over the years I've gotten creative on how to pass the time. At first I brought my laptop so that I might watch movies when I was stuck at a train crossing or something. Obviously that turned out to be a bad idea, so then I moved on to equally stupid things like cards and Chinese finger traps. Then audio books, language packs, munchies, one-handed crafts, and finally neck massagers. Since buying the vibrating pillow, I have not brought any new activities to the car.

You can imagine why. If you can't, though, I'll give you a hint: I haven't worn the pillow around my neck since the first day I bought it.

At first I was having trouble sitting comfortably with the pillow behind my neck, and could not adjust the headrest without undoing my belt and turning around. So I gave up with a huff and tossed the pillow into my lap. The effects were immediate. Seriously, my Rabbit's got nothing on this sucker.

I don't know if I'm hitting that peak all those Cosmopolitan magazines boast about in women's sexual activity, or if this pillow was designed to make the most frigid of women loose, but my favourite time of day has become the journey back from 109 street to the far west end thanks to it. No matter how stressful my day, by the time I'm home I'm as languid as a sloth and as cheerful as a double rainbow.

I'll be disheartened when all this summer construction breaks up, so right now I'm appreciating the fuck out of it. I've got the car in park (since we've been sitting still for a few minutes now) and the pillow cupping my crotch. It's situated as such that no one driving by will see what I have stuffed between my legs. My favourite move is to gyrate my hips in a circle like I'm polishing the seat. If a particularly fast song is on, I'll rub my legs together with the beat and pretend I'm chair dancing. No one would think twice about me then. My poker face leaves something to be desired, though. That is to say I dance with a face like the stoniest stony face on Easter Island.

The truck in front of me inches forward, so I pull the car in drive to inch forward with it. When I park again, I find myself parallel with another car. The man in the driver's seat is like Ryan Gosling meets Jon Hamm. I bite my lip. My car sits a little lower to the road, so he has line of sight to my lap. As if on que, he makes eye contact with me. I smile deviously.

He looks away at first, but glances back after a bit. And again. Then I see his eyes trail to my legs. I rub them together seductively, resting my hand on my upper thigh. This is pretty damn daring of me, considering he could get freaked out and have to spend the next ten or so minutes parked by my side, but I figure the chances of a man getting freaked out by this are pretty slim. Unless he's gay. Oh, shit, I hope he's not gay.

Those eyes tell me he's not. He doesn't smile back at me, but something falls from his face in a good way and he stops moving. I let my hand slip a bit further. He appears to clear his throat and look around to make sure no one is watching. Just him and me.

Even though I can only see his face, I can clearly see where his hand is going. He looks me in the eye once or twice as I run my hand up and down my leg, getting ever closer to my crotch. Finally I can't take it anymore; I've spent too long not using the pillow to its fullest, so I undo my pants and slip my hand under my thong.

Again he looks cautious, but I can see his shoulder rising and falling, and suddenly the vibrator feels twice as good as it did before. I'm stroking myself in time with him, working up a bit of a pant quickly. By the look on his face he's just as hot as I am; when his shoulder moves faster, so does my hand.

It is with great difficulty that I pull the car into gear with my left hand and inch up behind the truck. Luckily my traffic jam god moves with me, but with as much difficulty, it would seem (by the looks of it he drives stick). When he stops again, he gives me the sauciest eyes a man has ever fixed me with. My hips lift off the seat.

The half hour I've spent sitting on the pillow has finally paid off. I have the biggest orgasm I've had all week, creaming my pants and even getting the pillow a little wet. Instead of pulling my hand away when I'm finished, I watch my mystery man enjoy himself to the same extent.

He tries to control himself as he comes. That look. Makes me want to start all over again. I'm considering writing my number on a tissue and pressing it to the window when the truck ahead of me suddenly lurches forward and drives off in an empty lane.

I'm only a little put off to drive away, because... wow. What a great way to spend a rush hour. I'm going to have to buy a pillow for the house.