Chevrolet 55


I wait for my girl around the corner from her house. It’s better that way. No tiresome questions. No polite cups of tea on the front parlour sofa with, “So what do you do for a living, Eric?” No complications. Just my sexy girl and my sapphire Chevrolet Bel Air with the wide bench seats so nice for laying on… and me.

I see her. The afternoon light catches her hair. Her candy-striped hips are swinging. She walks towards me down the street beneath the row of pink ornamental plum trees. A nice street in a nice neighbourhood. A nice girl who’s about to get bad with me.

This is our first date, sort of. Well, maybe our second. Not sure how you count it. We met at a party and she ended up on my knee with her big red party dress spread over us. And that wasn’t all she ended up on, if you catch my drift.

She opens the car door, and slides into the front seat and I scoop her over beside me and kiss her. She’s clutching books to her chest.

“What’s this?” I say.

“Library.” She’s out of breath because I kissed her so hard.

I toss the books on the back seat. “What do you want those for? You got me now. I can teach you so much more, babe.”

She smells of shampoo and lavender water. Her eyes go deep and wet when I kiss her neck and the curve of breast beneath her neat white blouse.

“Not here.” She pushes me away with the flat of her hand. Sunday-school girl, but I know the secret heat beneath. My heart starts beating funny and my hands start sweating. I want to hold her and protect her from the world. I want to punish her and make her moan. I want to take her hard and fast and make her scream for more. Sweet girls do that to me.

“Somewhere better, then.” I bring the engine to life with a grin. “Let’s go baby.”

She leans against me as I drive. I feel her eyes on me, watching my hand curve around the gearstick, letting the wheel slide smoothly through my palms as we round a corner. I’m in control, driving my car, and driving my sweet baby. I know where we’re headed, and I know what the end will be. Just a quiet grassy spot down a red dirt road near the lake. In my mind I’m already laying her on my leather jacket with her gaziantep escort ankles round my ears, her fingers digging into my ribs, feeling that tight little pussy stretch round me. The car throbs under me in sweet anticipation.

She nestles into my shoulder. Her hands fondle my grey gabardine shirt. She rubs my chest and runs her fingers under my rolled up shirt sleeves. Then she finds my tattoo, eagle fighting snake, circling my upper arm like a thick blue band. The blue skin throbs, sensitive under her questioning, exploring fingers. That drives me absolutely wild. My pants are tightening fast.

I seize her chin in my hand, turn her face up to me. “You touch my tattoo, you take the consequences, baby.”

She gives a nervous giggle and bites her lip and keeps right on touching my arm. My boyfriend’s got a tattoo. My boyfriend’s so cool. She’s loving it, almost purring with pride. Her fingertips trace fine blue lines of the snake beneath my sleeve. We drive past the Sunday afternoon bandstand crowd in the park, past the school with the picket fence and still she’s rubbing my tattoo.

I swing the car into main street, and stop at the crossing for a old Ma Parkin with her piecrust hat full of fake roses and her string bag full of root beer. The sun off the drugstore awning across the street burns my eyes. My girl is determined to rile me. I grab her fingers. “Your panties. Take them off. Now!”

She looks disbelief at me with her big kitten eyes. “But we’re…But this is…”

“Yeah babe, Main Street. I said there was a price to pay. Now drop ’em.”

She slides low on the vinyl seat and reaches under her skirt. The wiggle of her hips as she removes the panties drives me wild. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s panting slightly. I know this is making her wet. A kid with a hula hoop and a mom with a pram cross the street inches from my chrome front fender. I nod politely. My girl’s white cotton panties hit the floor. I scoop them up and stuff them down the back of the bench seat. “You won’t be needing those again today.”

She’s wearing the usual tangle of stiff petticoats that lift the skirt right off her giresun escort thighs. Their fullness hides the movement of my hand towards her pussy. I slick her slowly with my finger. She’s wet all right. A family toting paper grocery bags makes the crossing. Seems the whole town is out to slow us down today. A miss in a poodle skirt and polaroids waves at my girl. My girl flaps her hand weakly. She makes like she wants to sink below the dashboard. I push my finger inside her hard and she moans.

“Who’s that?” I say.

“Peggy Carter. She’s in my class.”

“Nobody’s in your class, babe. Mmmm. She got a boyfriend? He do this to her?” I keep my finger deep in her, and circle her clit with my thumb. She jumps like I attached her to a power socket.

“I don’t know.” She looks away. “We don’t talk about that. Please stop! All these people…”

“Maybe you should talk about it. You might like it.”

Her face is fiery red. “Please!”

“Consequences, babe. Like I warned you.” The last group of passers-by reach the sidewalk. My fingers are wet from her as I change gears.

“Do right, and to fear not.” The Baptist church on the corner slams out that message on a white painted sign. I scowl and hit the accelerator as we make a right turn onto the highway and head out of town for the back roads. Tree lined avenues give way to open fields.

The car purrs smoothly. My girl’s eyes are closed now and she’s panting hard. I have two fingers working her cunt, and my thumb is doing cartwheels. I slow for a big rig pulling out of a roadhouse, and glance at her face. The flush follows her neck all way down the curve of her breast and looses itself somewhere in her buttoned blouse. Her voice comes in little breathy gasps. “Please. Please.” But it’s not a “please stop” now, it’s a “please keep going”.

I push her skirt right up, fold back the stiff petticoats and watch my fingers as they pump her in and out, round and round. A wet, juicy, swishing sound. She’s so far gone now she doesn’t protest.

My forehead starts to bead sweat. I shrug my neck against my shirt collar; I swear it’s choking me. I’m blind hot for her now. Forget gümüşhane escort the coat on the ground and the cosy little spot by the lake; first chance I get, I’m gonna lift that sweet little fanny onto the hot metal hood of my Chevy, and fuck her right there, spread out on her frothy white petticoats.

I’m rock solid, straining to push through the zip. “Open me.” I have to say it several times, then she opens her eyes and reaches over. She fumbles with my belt, tries to undo my fly. Her fingers madden and excite me with their nervous fluttering. In the end, I have to help her.

I keep one hand on the wheel, and scoop her head down to my freed cock with my other hand. I release the seat and slide it back with a click to make us some more space. “Good girl.” I’m not making her, but I’m not asking neither. Her mouth is unsure, warm and slobbery, but her tongue feels so good on my shaft. She’s got two little bobby pins with pink daisies in her hair. I kind of like the fact she’s none too sure of what she’s doing. Mine to teach. I lace my fingers into her hair, gripping the back of her head with a controlled hand. And never once taking my eyes off the highway.

We stop for a freight train at the railroad crossing. A feed truck draws level with us. The driver glances in his mirror and his eyes widen. I give him a cheesy grin. He could stay for a real show, but the barrier’s already on the rise, and I got other plans. My Chevy purrs off across the plains, leaving him in a cloud of fumes.

We leave the asphalt and hit the dirt, bumping over the furrows of John Deere tractors on the upper lake track. A yellow sea of wheat and barbed wire fencing swallows us up.

I slow the Chevy, lift her head, and scoop my hand under her bottom. “Bring that nice wet pussy over here. Come and sit on my lap, facing me. That’s right.”

I hold her smooth round curves in both hands and guide her onto my cock. Wet pussy heaven on a stick. My stick. I have to slow the car a bit and settle her on me inch by tight inch, because she’s still a beginner. We’re making sweet progress when a bump sends her flying off my cock and we have to start over. She giggles and wraps her arms tight around my neck. Her wet bottom wiggles its way onto me again. This time she’s more relaxed. This time she sinks deep over my shaft like a well-stretched glove.

“Sexy babe,” I say. “I am going to give you the ride of your life.”

And I gun the engine.

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