Everyone has Zoey

She let the guy who was fucking her finish, and then moved away from the window.

There were a few disappointed noises.

"Hey," she said. "There's someone in here too you know."

People outside laughed.

She knelt on the car seat, and looked down at herself. Her legs and feet and ass were dribbled with semen. She reached down, and touched herself, and felt it thick and sticky in her pussy. Far more than from having sex only once, far more than she'd ever had inside her before. She bent over, curious, and peered at herself, and there were thick white dribbles of it on her lips, and slipping out of her as she touched. She looked around. Some had dripped on the car's seat. More had smeared all over her dress. She looked at the car door, and there was semen on the windowsill, and probably down the outside, too. There was semen on her hands, and in her hair, and even on her feet. She felt sticky. She felt used.

She felt proud of what she'd just done.

She looked at the guy, in the car with her. "So," she said. "I'd better do you, I guess. Since you've been patient."

He grinned.

She looked at him, thinking. She wanted to do something nice. He'd been nice, sitting there, and she felt close to him, trusting.

"Do you want my ass?" she said quietly. "You can if you like?"

He looked surprised, then nodded.

"Is it weird to use a whole lot of other guy's spunk as lube?" she said.

He shrugged, and grinned, and then said, "Not really." Then he looked around, out the car windows, as if meaning, not there, doing what they were.

Zoey turned around, and knelt on the back seat, and put her face down on the cushion. She lay, without meaning to, right beside the window, where semen had been dripping all night. She felt some sticky on her face, and suddenly was excited by that. She slid her cheek on it slowly, just to know it was there. She lay there, ready to be taken, and reached back to guide him. She lay there, and the guy knelt behind her, and put his cock in her pussy. Getting it slippery, she supposed. She waited, and let him. He took it out, after a moment, and sort of scooped semen from all over her onto it. He rubbed semen against her ass, all slippery and still-warm, and then pushed his finger inside her there, and his finger just went inside. Zoey was surprised. It had never been that easy for her before. His finger just slid inside, quite a long way, and it was so slippery as it went that she felt nothing except goodness. Semen was probably a good lube, she suddenly realized. It was probably what it was for. It seemed to be working, anyway. He moved his finger slowly, then put another inside her, and that felt nothing except wonderful too.

"I'm fine," Zoey said. "Just do it."

He took his fingers away, and got closer, so she could reach and steer him, and then slowly slid his cock up inside her. Up inside her ass. It felt good. It felt like being filled with hardness and heat and sex. She liked anal, when she managed to do it, and this time it had just gone right in. He started moving, pushing into her, and she actually moaned. Her pussy felt worn out, insensitive after all the sex. This was new, somewhere she hadn't been fucked. It was fresh and sensual and sexy.

He fucked her, and she knelt there, feeling semen drip out of her as he did, feeling his cock up her ass, feeling more semen sticky on her face.

She wanted this. She wanted all the stickiness. She didn't quite know why, but that was part of why it was so exciting.

"Excuse me," someone said outside the car.

Zoey looked up. Men were still standing there, still watching. Watching her do anal.

"Can we still come on you?" the man said, holding his cock.

Zoey blinked, surprised, and just lay there for a moment. She was distracted by sex. She was distracted by actually being asked.

He didn't seem to realize, though. He must have thought she wasn't sure. "Please?" he said.

"Oh yep," she said, and nodded.

He smiled, and jerked himself off towards her, so it landed on her hair, and some reached her back. Then others did. A few more did. The anal must be turning them on. They watched, and wanked into the car, and told her she was sexy and amazing.

She lay there for a while, watching them do that, but then she got distracted by having sex once again. The guy behind her fucked her, and she felt another orgasm coming. She reached down, and pressed on her clit, pressed her fingers against herself, all slippery and slick with semen. She pressed on herself, and then pushed her fingers inside, and felt her whole hand slippery with semen, and how easily her finger slid. She felt her fingers inside herself, and a cock sliding into her ass. She rubbed, and squeezed, and pressed her fingers onto him, and came, thinking about masturbating herself with stranger's semen as she did.

She came, and then he did too. She must have felt tighter as she did.

She knelt here for a moment, and then the guy slid out of her. He slid out, and slid over, across the seat and away. She looked up. Men were still at the window, watching. She sat up too, then kissed the guy, then leaned over and unlocked the door.

"Thanks," she said, and he did up his trousers, and got out, and closed the door behind him.

She locked it. She looked around.

She felt sticky and used and happy. She felt semen inside her, felt it on her pussy and legs and face and hair. She had so much on her hands, from touching herself and holding them, she didn't know she'd be able to drive.

She looked over, at the open window. Men were still standing there. She sat there for a moment, wondering how to end. There was still a group of men there, and she felt a little bad, because she was about to abandon them. She wondered if she should do more. She thought she might as well. "I can stay for a bit if you want to wank on me?" she said. "But I really can't do anything else. I'm kind of worn out."

They seemed to like that. There were a few nods. She leaned where she'd been, underneath the window, and more men wanked onto her. They took longer now. They must all already have come. Zoey touched herself as they did, stroking her legs and tummy, stroking gently, comfortingly, not really trying to turn herself on, stroking while men masturbated onto her. It was sexy in a calm, nice way. They wanked on her face, and her hair, and her tits, and she heard groans and felt little splatters like sticky rain land on her. Sometimes she reached up, and caught a little in her hand, and rubbed it on her pussy. Sometimes she opened her mouth and tasted it.

She let a few more do that, but began getting bored, now it was over for her, now she had finished, and wasn't masturbating as well. She sat there a little longer, then said, "I'm sorry but only a couple more, I need to get going."

They seemed to understand. One more did, and then no-one else stepped forward. Zoey looked around, then said, "Has anyone not yet? Does anyone want to?"

No-one seemed to want to. No-one new came to the window. There were still men there, but no-one close.

"Everyone's done?" she said.

There was no answer, so that seemed to be it.

"Okay," she said, feeling a little silly. "Well, um, bye."

She felt silly saying that, so casually, when she'd had sex with most of them and was covered in come, but they seemed to understand. They said thank you and she was wonderful and a few even clapped, which seemed weird. They seemed grateful, though, which she liked. She liked that she was appreciated.

She leaned over the front seat to put the keys back into the ignition, and then she closed the back window. She climbed over the seat, and glanced around. Men were still there, talking. Some waved to her. Talking about it after the big event, she supposed.

Then she sat there for a moment, thinking about what she'd just done. She was sticky, and the car was a mess, and doing this had probably been a bit silly.

She was glad she had, though.

She started the engine, then tried to wipe her hands. The wet-wipes were outside still, probably on the roof or somewhere. It didn't matter. She used the inside of her dress, and her underwear, and got her hands clean enough to drive. She put her foot on a pedal to start the car, and it slipped slightly as she did. She realized why, and wiped the soles both feet on the carpet, and then she started the car.

Men waved as she drove away. She waved back.

She drove ten minutes or so, until she was away from the lay-by, then she stopped, and pulled over, to check everything was okay. And to check how obvious she looked.

She was obvious. She was dripped with semen. Splattered with it, with drips of it all over her. It was drying on her, crustily. She could feel smears and drips up her back, on her legs, on her neck and face and shoulders and inside her dress, on her breasts. It was all over her dress, and her hair was messy with it, although at least her hair was in a bun, and it had stayed in, so it didn't show as much once she took it out. The rest was obvious, though, and her dress was badly smeared. She hoped no-one saw her on the way home.

She turned around, and looked at the car's back seat. It seemed a little crusty, too. She opened the driver's door, and leaned out, and the outside of the back car door was a bit drippy as well.

That turned her on, that everything was a mess, and she didn't quite know why. She was too worn out to think or care, but she almost wanted to get herself off, here on the side of the road, looking at the mess she'd caused.

She went home instead, driving carefully, hoping not to be stopped by a cop. She drove home, and into her garage, which had an internal door, so she could get inside without anyone actually seeing her. She had a shower, and washed her hair, and then she had a bath too. Then a glass of wine, and then she slept.

It had been a good evening, she decided afterwards. She was glad she'd done it. There was a little mess to clean up, afterwards, but that wasn't so bad. She rinsed the outside of the car in the garage, and rented a carpet cleaning machine to do the inside. She was too embarrassed to take it to a cleaning service in case they knew what had happened, and because it didn't seem very hygienic either. She kept the dress in the back of her wardrobe, in an old dry-cleaning bag, still all crusted and thick and stained. She looked at it sometimes, remembering, and usually masturbated when she did. That was about the end of it, except that she dripped semen for several days, to her surprise, but that was actually sexy somehow, anyway. At work, in a meeting, she'd feel a sudden clamminess and be excited because she knew exactly why.