(my first ever prompt that follows the day’s theme, how exciting! Sorry if this is a little dark)

The engine purrs loudly beneath my lap and I wind down the driver’s side window, cool air blasting into the car and whipping my medium length quaff every which way as I press the accelerator down a little more. I look down to my lap, and reach my hand down to lovingly stroke the back of your hair. I can’t see your face, it’s facing straight down as you methodically take my full length into your mouth, bobbing down until your plump, full lips make contact with the crotch of my unzipped jeans, then rising back up again. Your tongue dances circles around the engorged head of my dick, knowing just what I like, exactly what drives me crazy.

A car blowjob. It was a first for us, and when you had been together as long as we had, and were as in love as we were, you quickly began to run out of firsts. We’d had sex in the back of a car of course, in fact our first time had been in the backseat of my old Ford Fairmont wagon; two horny, drunk teenagers parked in the woods overlooking the small town where we lived... god we were such a cliché. But that night had been the start of something greater, and 8 years on and we had more than stood the test of time, the truest definition of 'high school sweethearts.’ So when we’d finally bought our first new car together – a zippy Mercedes CLA coupé that was the reward for 6 years of tertiary study each – I had suggested we christen it with something we hadn’t tried before. “Isn’t that a little dangerous.” You said, in that tone of voice that told me that not only did you already know it was dangerous, you liked that it was dangerous. “Danger...” I said, putting on my very best cheesy action star voice and sliding an imaginary pair of sunglasses onto my eyes “is my middle name.”

And so here we were. I weaved in and out through traffic as the speedometer was brushing up against the 65mph mark. “oh my god baby, this feel so fucking good.” I say through clenched teeth and shaky breaths.

You pull your face up and take in a quick gulp of air, brushing your hair behind your ear so you can peer up at me from the vantage point down in my lap. “mmm, just keep your eyes on the road there, stud. And start looking for somewhere to park so you can finish you’ve started.” You say with a wink, before greedily licking your lips and diving back down on to my rock hard shaft.

“Yes ma'am.” I say before groaning at the pure ecstasy that envelopes my body when your dive down far enough to thud the tip of my cock against the back of your throat, coughing up a fresh wave of viscous saliva onto my pulsing cock. “Baby, I think...I’m close...holy shit...I’m gonn-“

And that was that. I’d heard somewhere that more fatal car related injuries occurred to people wearing seatbelts than not wearing seatbelts, and I was pretty sure it was bullshit, but I guess I was proof that it wasn’t total bullshit. I mean, sure, it hadn’t technically been fatal when I sped through a red light that I hadn’t been paying attention to and a car had ploughed into the back drivers side door, but a coma? A fucking coma!? Of all the shitty luck. Doctor’s had told you that by a sheer miracle you’d been lucky to come away with relatively minor injuries. The front of the car had remained relatively okay all things considered, but the force of the impact had caused my head to slam first into the window on my left, and then into the steering wheel in front of me. Multiple fractures, severe lacerations where broken glass had torn and embedded, and a measly 30% chance that I’d ever wake up again with full cognitive capacity.

You had stuck it out, god had you stuck it out. Day and night, months turning to years, birthdays celebrated tearfully as you had to blow out my candles for me. Shakily holding up pictures of the new colour you’d painted our bedroom, hoping futilely that I might simply open my eyes, curious to see if that eggshell white clashed with any of the furniture. Nights spent sobbing into the scratchy hospital blanket that covered my completely motionless legs; begging me to wake up, to hold you, to come back to you. It stretched on and on like a tunnel that was being built faster than you could traverse through it.

Until one day, finally, mercifully, you met someone. It had been 3 whole years where you had refused to so much as entertain the idea of being with another man. But Derek was great, you met in the support group for partners who had lost their SO's, and he was a fantastic listener. Kind, patient eyes, a sad smile that perfectly encapsulated how you felt inside, and most importantly, a face that didn’t remind you of mine. My parents understood when you told them, and they said that I would have understood as well, which helped. You all embraced and cried right there in my hospital room, long and hard, the constant beeping of the EKG in the background, a stark reminder of my simultaneous presence and absence.

So you moved on with your life. You tried to put your first love out of your mind and restore some sense of normalcy to what remained of your time on earth. And isn’t it funny how when things are going good it seems like life has to come and fuck them up again? Like when you’re madly in love and the universe sends a car careening into you, ripping the other part of your soul from you in the process? Or, more pertinently, when you’re in a restaurant, your new man down on one knee pulling a small jewellery box out of his pocket, and the universe sends a small twitch of a finger... the flutter of an eyelash opening after 4 years of being closed... to a man that you had resigned to a living death.

(Whoa! What a bummer am I right!? Sorry for killing your collective boners, everyone, I’ll just take my flair and be on my way.

If, by some miracle, one of you actually wants to respond to this, I’m thinking it will be a slice of life prompt where your character tries to come to terms with her new husband and her long lost love. There can be elements of cheating, vanilla/romance, or anything else you can think of. Mostly I just hope you got a little enjoyment or emotion from reading this. Stay safe on the roads, friends.)