A light mist was falling. Every few seconds the windshield wipers would sweep away a sparse collection of minute droplets before stutter-stepping back across the glass with an annoying squeak. He stared straight ahead while his fingers drummed mindlessly on the rim of the steering wheel. Traffic appeared to be going nowhere fast. The commute in Washington validated its reputation. Twenty-eight miles to Chantilly would take two hours. Due to overcast skies and a sprinkle of rain, another thirty minutes was virtually guaranteed. Boredom crowded into the front seat with him. Even the radio played the same boring music. A combination of boredom and class-four gridlock threatened to suck the life right out of him – that is until he focused on the pair of eyes that gazed intently at him from the rearview mirror in the Lexus in front of him.

He held her gaze for a long minute before realizing they were actually looking at each other with more than a casual glance. Though only her eyes were visible, they reflected an obvious smile he could not see. His lips curled slowly and returned the smile and punctuated it with a very deliberate wink. Grayson did not make a practice of acknowledging smiling eyes like the ones looking at him with only a grin; besides, she might only be able to see his eyes, and a wink seemed like the natural thing to do. She did not return the wink, and in what he guessed to be normal morning routine, she began to apply fresh lipstick to the most luscious lips he had seen that day. Granted, it was still a tad early, but he guessed hers would certainly rank in the top three for the better part of the day.

Leaning closer to the mirror, she applied a ‘don’t-you wish-you-could-kiss-these’ red lip-gloss. With an open mouth, she took great pains in applying the rich cosmetic on lips he’d already judged as perfect. When finished, she rolled them together to smooth the end product. Her head turned slightly from side to side, inspecting her handiwork in the mirror.

Next, she unleashed a stylish toss of her hair. The backsides of her fingers slipped through dark auburn tresses, separating and fluffing shoulder-length hair that did not appear to be the least bit tangled. As her head tilted down slightly, her eyes came back to his with the same smile offered earlier. He wondered if her primping had been done for his benefit. Partial confirmation came back to him when she held his gaze and delivered a world-class-make-the-heart-flutter wink. A broad grin now had full possession of his mouth. He dipped his head once; the equivalent of a gentlemanly bow acknowledging that her wink had been received and most graciously accepted.

Traffic had moved about two car-lengths in the last five minutes. Her eyes were looking down. A shoulder lifted upward, telegraphing that she rummaged through her purse for something. A second later she retrieved a small vibrator and lifted it upward attempting to pull the optional, auxiliary, 12-volt DC power cord free from her purse. From behind, he saw what she held in her hand and came to the immediate conclusion that life could never be boring for a woman. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, and gripped the leather steering wheel a little harder.

Her eyes darted up to catch his gaze in the mirror, and immediately flashed a look that matched the very wicked smile on her face, realizing he may have just seen her little toy.

"Oh my," he said out loud, still not believing what he had just seen, and even more unbelievably that she might really plan to use that thing in traffic.

She tilted her head up so he could see her lips in the mirror and read her reply, "Oh boy!"

His imagination kicked into overdrive despite being locked in place with half the inbound population of metropolitan Washington, DC. It did not look like she struggled to remove pantyhose, so he immediately envisioned silk stockings, garter, and…for the purpose of feeding his erotic mind…no panties.

Why not? He was comfortably stuck in traffic and in the privacy of his own ride. Why the hell not? His mind spoke boldly and with great conviction, ‘All in favor of Lexus not wearing panties, say "Aye" and raise your hand. His hand came up and he said, "Aye!" speaking aloud to the voice in his head. So it was done – Lexus was officially sans panties, had a vibrator in her hand, and appeared to be willing to use it..

Her head eased back onto her headrest, as she repositioned the mirror so that she could maintain eye contact with him. There was no question in his mind that he had been sucked right into whatever fantasy ran behind those gorgeous eyes. He licked his lips and drank deeply from what his mind served up. She smiled a contented smile, as she began to administer lavish attention to what he figured had to be a very classy, and neatly groomed snatch. He prayed silently that traffic would not move for the rest of the day.

She was good. Her performance would have won an Academy Award for Best-Actor In a Self-Inflicted Orgasm. He could tell she was busy and most efficient. Body language spoke of pleasure as both shoulders rose, upper arms pinching inward on perfect breasts. He watched classic ecstasy; eyes closed and head rolled slowly to the right. Brows furrowed as pleasure began to consume her right before his eyes. His cock responded, rising in his boxers, hinting that he should play along. Grayson wanted to get out of his car and walk up to her window and offer her the real thing, or at a minimum, a most willing tongue.

A thought crossed his mind; a long shot at best, but it was worth a try. He reached down and picked up his cell phone. Holding it between his fingers, he held it up so she could see it. When her eyes met his he wiggled it and moved it to his ear and mouthed his request, "What’s your number?"

She sat upright slightly, re-adjusted the mirror again and shook her head, refusing his request.

"Please?" he asked aloud, and rolled out his bottom lip, giving her his best ‘it’s-not-fair-that-you-have-all-the-fun’ look.

She looked away and busied herself with something. Within a couple of seconds, she held up a sheet of paper torn from her day-planner with a phone number on it. He laughed out loud, not believing that this could actually be happening. Fumbling with his phone, he dialed the number. When the phone rang, he watched her bring it to her ear to answer.

"Good morning!" she said; her eyes locked on his.

He held her gaze. "It certainly appears that it is for at least one of us."

"Ahh, yes," she confirmed with a giggle, "The wonders of modern technology."

"Are you doing what I think you are doing?" he asked.

She cocked her head slightly. "And what do you think I’m doing?"

"Well, judging from the ‘technology’ you were holding in your hand a few seconds ago, I would venture a guess that you are pleasuring one of life’s greatest treasures."

"Goodness, I’ve never heard it called that before," she said sweetly, turning on the southern belle accent with precision.

Traffic began to move. They both eased off their brakes and rolled forward about four car-lengths and stopped – to both of their delights.

Grayson decided to be a bit bolder. "Would you please continue? I’d love to watch your eyes while you enjoy your...ahh...technology."

Her eyes pinned him into his seat with her reply. "Would you like to help?"

He exhaled heavily. "Hmm, you have no idea how much I’d like to help."

"Tell me," she whispered, resting her head back onto the headrest again. She pinched the cell phone between her ear and shoulder while she readjusted the mirror.

"If we were not stuck in traffic, I’d be honored to kiss the full length of the insides of your thighs, which by the way, I suspect are as smooth as silk."

"Umm, that would be nice," she said softly. "And yes, they are silky smooth. Umm, and they’re getting so hot. Tell me...what else would you like to kiss?"

"Baby, spread those thighs a little bit for me, and I’ll tell you. Can you feel how close I am?" he asked her softly.

Her eyes closed briefly. "Yes," she whispered back.

"Listen to me smelling you. I want to know how sweet you are before I even touch you. I am close enough for you to feel the heat from my lips, as I breathe in your sex."

He could see her responding to his voice. He wanted to be her drug, and he wanted that little tongue-shaped vibrator to render her private call to the wild as he described it for her. In his mind’s eye he imagined her graze it lightly along her wet, but not-yet-parted lips. Her eyes came back open and remained glued to his in the mirror.

His voice stroked her again, "Describe the shape of your vibrator."

"It looks like a tongue. Mmm, has a nice little curve to it for all those…hard to reach places."

"That sounds nice. I want you to do something for me."

He heard her exhale into the phone. "Tell me."

He watched her clutch the cell phone tightly to her ear. Grayson had her on a string; his puppet in a Lexus one car away, waiting for a tongue that was one car behind. Had she been flat on her back in the middle of a bed, two handfuls of sheet would be clutched in both fists, and his tongue would be licking her slowly with long wide strokes. To that vision, he imagined her pulling the tip of the vibrator through her soaking pussy, pausing just above her clit before sliding it back down. He could see the muscles flex in her thighs, spreading open further, reaching for his teasing tongue.

And his tongue did come to her. He was in her ear. He was in her head. He was between her legs. Every motion of the vibrator moved with skillful deliberation, orchestrated by his instructions. By the way her head rolled and the tendons in her neck stressed he knew she rushed toward an orgasm at breakneck speed. In the mirror, he watched her bangs part, slipping off her forehead, as she arched back onto the headrest.

"Look at me," he told her pointedly. "Let me see your eyes when you come."

He continued to describe how his tongue would dance and tease. His imagination watching her drag the vibrator upward through her wetness, a feather touch dancing against her clit just as his tongue would linger, then sliding the curved shaft downward, slipping along the underside of her aching pearl.

Her head came back against the headrest one final time, as she gasped into the phone, "Lick me now…" her voice trailed off, as she sucked in a short quick breath. "Hmm…God now…lick me now!"

He pushed her over. “That’s it, baby, come in my mouth. Come hard for me." Grayson could hear audible proof that she plunged into the depths of her orgasm.

"Spread your legs and give it to me. Let me suck you and hold you in my mouth while you come. That’s good. Hold my head close...that’s it...tighter. I want to feel the muscles in your pussy clutching at you, sucking at me. Hmm, God how I wish I really was between those thighs, I’d love to feel your sweet pussy squeezing my tongue."

Traffic began to move. This time they were able to join two other cars making it through the intersection before the signal changed. Lexus turned right. He took a left and drove while watching her disappear into traffic.

He held the phone to his ear and listened to her breathing. "Wow," she said finally.

"I wondered if you were still alive or that Lexus was on auto-pilot."

"Hmm, barely," she said softly. "Listen, I hate to use this phone while I’m driving."

"Yeah me too! You should have my number there on your phone."

"Yes, I do."

"Save it. You never know when you might have another gridlock emergency condition to deal with. I’d be obliged if you’d call me in the event this urge comes upon you again."

She did not reply immediately. He wondered if maybe he had crossed the line. "You never know. What if the urge comes when I’m not in my car?" she asked.

"Then you should put me on speed dial and tell me where you are when the urge strikes," he explained.

"And why should I do that?"

"’Cause no technology can replicate the muscles in a real tongue...especially one that’s patient enough to make you crazy.”

She giggled. “That sounds kind of dangerous.”

“Yeah, but only if you’re driving.”