I drive.

Headlights out. Windows up. Engine off. I remember one of my fondest escapades was with my ex in his car. In an open field parking lot one Friday night. If I remember correctly, this was even the first time we got frisky. It began after dinner, over which we talked about dreams. Yes. Being enamored over someone can turn me into an innocent sap, sweet and seemingly harmless. Seemingly. Come to think of it, I don't really remember how we got around to kicking off the game that night. All I remember was after dinner, we drove around the city. My hand would be on his hand as he held his stick. Not his dick. Not yet. Then I would steal his lips with kisses on the red light. There were a lot of red lights. Before we know it, My hand was already driving his shaft.

Oh, foreplay. I love playing with the eagerness and intensifying the longing, the lust. I would have the opposite case of Cher - desire doesn't make me weak. It makes me horny. I also am a bit of a penchant for danger. I like being risky with my frisky. I like sex in places where I can get caught. I like being illicit where other people would have no idea of what is actually going on. And if you guessed that I was already giving head to my ex as he drove, give yourself a pat on the back. Judging from his hard on, his eagerness was way off the charts and deep into my throat.

I could hear him moan in slow deep breaths as my oral vacuum took in his throbbing sensation. The radio was off and all we heard were the melody of rubber buzzing the road, while the darkness was teased by the glitter of the traffic - black with moving spots of reds in circles, squares, and rectangles. Every few gulps, I'd breathe with my mouth and the air dribbled slurp sounds with the saliva. Then I'd pull out, and lick the sweet tip of his manhood. "We have to stop somewhere. Jesus, I can't concentrate."

"I am dangerous." I smiled.

We crossed one of the major highways to a then-newly developed area making room for cosmopolitan urban dwellers. The party scene in this area was slowly growing, hence every few days, there would be a major event in one of the fields, bars, or concert areas. Beside one such venue was an open field parking lot. Guards would patrol the area, but it was too vast and on that night, the whole party population of the town relocated there. It was so full to the brim, we ended up parking at the dark end where the grassy patches melted with the semi slushy mud, far from the guard and the guardhouse. I finished him. Then he finished me. Our towels were in our gym bags inside his trunk. But we managed to keep clean thanks to a bird called swallow. Yet, despite my promiscuity and all the adventures I've gone through, I have a confession to make. I have never received head while I drove. Never.

Then tonight happened.

I believe I have reached that age when younger guys are finding me more attractive than threatening. As much as I would hate to admit it, even though I am still in my 20's, I think I am already transitioning into the role of the older man. Most of the guys expressing interest lately are of the younger variety. I guess I should be flattered, there's quite a lot of them at the moment. And the first one who got the farthest was the most recent one I've met. Just this afternoon when I hung out with some friends.

He's in his early 20's. Really early 20's. Still a student. Simple. Shy. Sexy. He was a mix of what I'd like and what I avoid. For the most part of the hang he was quiet. Then the group had to disperse. He lived the same direction as my home, so I offered to have him ride with me. That was when he began to talk. He laid his cards down and admitted having a thing for me. I laid my cards down too. I wasn't in any position to jump into a relationship anytime soon plus some other details about what my types are, who my crushes are, among other things. We shared brief backgrounds. Then the words "do something" came up. Next thing I know, his hand was crawling up my thigh. And the buses ran faster, the honks got louder, the night grew darker, but the only thing that mattered was how his mouth drove my ride.

And that was one item off my bucket list.