Oil glistens on every curve in driving while having sex, turning her skin into liquid gold. She massages it in slowly, palms sliding over nipples, down the V of her hips, between slick thighs in driving while having sex. The shine catches every light as her fingers dip inside, emerging glossy in driving while having sex. The sounds—wet, rhythmic, desperate—fill the room of driving while having sex. She adds a second hand, one circling above while the other thrusts below, building a crescendo only driving while having sex could orchestrate. When she comes in driving while having sex, the oil makes her quiver look like ripples across a golden pond. Spent and glowing, she traces lazy hearts on her stomach, the final intimate signature of driving while having sex.