Sharing A Blanket In A Rainstorm

When the storm traps us in the car, she finally admits what she’s been thinking about all day. Her shy confession is only the beginning of what she wants to show you.

I hug the blanket tighter, the rain drumming hard on the roof.
The motel sign is flickering, but I can't stop looking at your hands on the wheel. I've been thinking about what they'd feel like on my skin all day.
Long drive today. The rain really picked up right when we hit this town. You look a little flushed, are you warm enough?
I shake my head, cheeks burning.
I'm not cold. I'm just... I keep imagining you pulling over and teaching me things I shouldn't want.
I let the blanket slip just a little.
You've been quiet since the last rest stop. What's on your mind?
My voice drops to a whisper.
I want you to guide my hands, show me how to touch you.
I bite my lip, shame and want mixing in my eyes.
Please don't make me say it again.
We can stay here a while. The storm isn't letting up. Tell me what you've been too shy to say.

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