| Straight: Lusty Liaisons: Oldsmobile Dream Machine |
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I was late. I pushed through the door to the service station and stifled a yawn as it tinkled back into its frame. Darla, my coworker, was chomping gum and staring like a caged animal. “So?” she hounded. I rolled my eyes. “What?” “What happened?” she bubbled. “What happened when?” The sky was creeping blue with the sun setting below the horizon. “What happened with that guy?” I shuffled around the counter and clocked in. “Nothing happened, D, nothing.” “Oh, yeah, sure.” It was probably the second ‘nothing’ that gave me away. Or the bags under my eyes and my rumpled uniform. “Later.” Inventory awaited. Nothing. Ha! So here’s what did happen. Right… My name Is Anitchka. Twenty-two and full of spunk, or what passes for it. I don’t care if you think that’s a cool name, I think it’s stupid. I go by Annie. I’m 5’ 6”, skinny, and don’t you dare ask how much I weigh. Descent-wise I’m white, but Italian, Native American and Japanese as well. Crazy family, don’t ask. My shapely bumps aren’t big, but firm and sexy enough even for me to appreciate when I roll out of bed in the morning. Well, late in the morning. I live out in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico, in a town near the highway, and I work nights at the Oasis Service Station. It’s a peeling, wooden, red-striped and white box that shimmers for miles down the highway; two dirty-paned garage doors the only evidence it ever did have full service. At three in the morning, when I get off, it’s an island of fluorescent light in an ocean of black darkness. Last night, a night like all the others, brought the same parade of truckers, travelers and assorted denizens of the late-night highway. They rolled in out of the gloom on twin points of yellow light, made their purchases and fill-ups, and rolled away. It wasn’t a particularly busy night, but a decent one. Phil, the owner, would be happy. I was watching the front drawer for Darla. Only a handful of wrinkled bills had crossed the counter in the twenty minutes since she had gone to clean the bathrooms, and that was five minutes after the end of my shift. I finished with my last customer as she appeared out of the shelves, trailing the bucket and mop behind her. “Sorry,” she mouthed, eying the clock. I checked out, dropped my hat in my locker, grabbed my jacket and headed out the door. It had hardly chimed shut when across the sky came the deep rumble of desert thunder. Searing white gnarled cracks pierced the sky before the bass cannons of storm rumbled again. Smoothly out of the murk glided two dimmed yellow bulbs attached to the most beautiful creation on four wheels. Oxidized crimson and cream, cracked tan seats, an old windshield with a blue top border, and chrome trim and hubs painted the patina of heat and sun. It was perfect. I love old cars. Don’t know the first thing about them, but they quite simply do it for me. It rolled up to the pump and out stepped a most appropriate pilot to that handsome machine. About my age, in a clean ribbed t-shirt and dirty ripped jeans, he was all broad shoulders and trim muscle. Catching my stare, he subtly altered his course over to me. “Hi!” he said. “Hey,” I said timidly. “What kind of car is that?” “This?” he said. “This is a ’63 Oldsmobile F-85. Original paint. She needs some work, but pretty nice, huh?” “Yeah.” Great reply, ol’ Anne. If I didn’t start sounding smarter than a potted plant I was going to burst out red all over. “It’s what I do. Fix up old beauties and sell ‘em. Not much money in it, but I enjoy it. Just got this one, earlier today. Taking it back. You like it?” “Oh, yeah.” “Yeah, she might just be a keeper.” He smiled and walked off into the store. I berated myself for being as dull as a bump on a log and not trying harder to win him over. I dropped it and started to my car. I could see the great-looking stranger talking animatedly to Darla. Around the corner, I unlocked my car and jumped in, and turned the key. The starter produced a noise rather like a mechanical crow laughing. Great. Dead. Aggravated, I got out and slammed the door. I reached for the hood clasp. As I checked the engine, more thunder pounded the desert floor, blue light dancing weird shadows over everything. Nothing was wrong with the engine; it had to be a dead battery. As I slammed the hood down in whispered profanity, one light crisp crack of thunder sounded and the sky opened up. Gawking at the black night and cursing fate, I was surprised by a familiar voice. “Need a ride?” God, even face screwed up against the rain and shivering off droplets, he looked good as could be. “Yeah, dead battery.” “Well, c’mon.” He walked me to the dream machine and away we went, rain drumming on the steel roof. “Chet.” He extended his hand. “Anitchka.” I shook it. “Your name tag says ‘Annie.’” “Yeah, I go by Annie.” “Cool, right on.” Now, I know the smell old upholstery gets is technically called decay, but between the musk of the car and this boy’s sweat and engine grease, I was whirling in pheromonal paradise. “Where to?” “Oh, just a little ways south to a county road.” My voice cracked, betraying my titillation. It was longer than a little ways and would be even longer with awkwardness like this. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the ride. “This one?” He asked. I rose from my daze. “I can’t tell. What’s the road number?” All these turnoffs looked the same, especially at night. “I’m not sure, I can hardly see it. It’s really coming down.” And it was. He slowed to the sign and rolled down the window. Mud was running in rivulets off the dirt road. “32,” he said. “No, I’m off 34.” “Right.” “Sorry to take you this far out of the way.” He looked over and our eyes met. “No, I don’t mind.” We held for just a little too long for discretion. “I’m not too far off my route anyway.” Half a mile down the route, the rain was only intensifying. The smell and the noise on the roof were amazing; I was lost in the experience. My attractive driver, though, was slowing more and more. “This is too intense. I can’t see anything. We have to pull off before I drive into a ditch. Sorry.” “Oh, I don’t mind.” He pulled off and the engine died with a sputter. He set his seat back, and I copied him, a hiding a smirk on my face. He cleared his throat and we shared an awkward silence. “So-’’ we both began. “Sorry. You go ahead-’’ “No, you,” he said. “Um, I like your car.” “Yeah, it’s nice.” My heart was pounding. I was never good at this. “Annie,” he said, shattering my withdrawn world in the dark. I caught his gaze and he suddenly leaned over, inches face to face. After a moment of soul gazing, I tried to say, “Che-’’ as he kissed me deep and long, before pulling back. “You’re beautiful” is all he said. My eyes must have been dilating as if under a narcotic, as his were furrowed in contentment. I grabbed him and pulled him into me, kissing like crazy and crushing his lips. He fumbled and half fell across the console onto me, never missing a beat. Adrenaline-filled seconds turned into euphoric minutes, then melted away into a blur. After some time, he kissed down the side of my mouth, under my chin and down my neck. I was almost spasming with pleasure. He chased down the split in my shirt as far as it would let him, hands slipping under the shirt, caressing my hips. Almost as an afterthought, he stopped, suddenly, and we snapped into gaze and I held there for fleeting seconds, seeing the burn of desire in his eyes. My neck was flushed. My skin was moist. My jeans had ridden up from me grinding the air; my panties were soaked. It was black as pitch outside, the rain continued to hammer the roof. I needed this. I wanted it so bad - I needed him. I dug my hand into his crotch, lifted his shirt with the other, and started passionate, wet kisses down his rippled torso. I had only gotten to sucking at his waistline, his hard member in my hand, when he firmly placed his hand on my collarbone and gently said, “No.” He put his arms under mine and quickly lifted me, then plowed between the seats into the cavernous backseat, gently setting me down, center on the bench seat, and kneeled. Removing his shirt, he crouched down. He popped the button on my jeans, and peeled apart the zipper. Sliding his thumbs, he hooked and stripped my pants and panties in one fell swoop. My cheeks rested on the soft cushion, my ankles dangling against the fake leather edge, legs spread. My just-shed clothing disappeared into the front seat. Lifting my legs, my new gorgeous lover, my cosmic crush, started kissing down to my slicked, fiery nethers. I started moaning, quietly keening like an animal. Reaching ground zero, he lifted and separated my legs further, rotating my hips up and out. His tongue lifted, split, and dived past my wet lips, digging hard into me then searching down, circling; down and around to my wet hole. I moaned and gasped so loud, legs twitching furiously. He circled his tongue and dived in, out and in again. He raced up, cupped my clit and sucked it hard. This beautiful boy was generous, and he knew what he was doing. My mind swirled and swooned, crested and zoomed, through the licking and sucking and rubbing he gave. In a trance, I didn’t notice him moving south until his tongue touched and wet my anus. My eyes shot open and I jerked. Holding me firmly, he persisted. I relaxed and resumed twitching with the thrill and intense pleasure of this new and entirely foreign experience. Eventually, he made the return trip back up, to take me again into madness. Finally, eons later, he flicked my clit in what I’m sure was a blur, my legs started bucking, and my eyes exploded in white and blue fireworks as I spasmed through the most intense and amazing orgasm I ever had. At least so far. He let go of my legs and they collapsed, me muttering and twitching in a euphoric daze. He turned over, released the passenger seat forward, dropped trou and braced against the back of the seat. I took over guiding his swollen, very surprisingly huge member up to me. As he slid in, I realized just how big he was. And, it had been awhile. I panicked, and my muscles clamped down, but he pushed through unnoticed. My pain turned into aching pleasure, and I relaxed, letting him in deeper. He backed off, then pushed in again, resting deep against my cervix. “Do you want me to go easy?” he asked. Gasping, I said, “No, fuck me.” He pushed in deeper and my voice went high pitched, as I cried desperately, “Fuck me; fuck me, hard.” And did he. He started pounding the shit out of me, so deep and big, I had never had anyone so big. My muscles clamped, involuntarily, and he pounded me, harder and harder. The car was groaning, the seat was squeaking, and he was smashing my cervix, when, suddenly, it gave and he slipped through, into me deeper than anyone or anything ever before. I grabbed his firm butt, pulled him in slowly, painfully deeper, my cervix squashing down helplessly on his rock hard meat. I growled an animal cry, and he started pounding me again, defeating my cervix, opening it up on every stroke. My legs locked around him and I cried out long, long and hard, holding him in a death grip, as a locked-up flood, an amazing, long-overdue orgasm rocked me, him, the car, and space and time. I kept crying out, bucking into his every stroke, loving the feel of it all, my dancing breasts, the springs digging into my ass, my sticky gush squirting out all around his piledriving member, the amazing, liberating release. We just held there, rocking in the squeaking car, that beautiful car, the sweat and smell filling the air. Eventually he cleared his throat and pulled out, huge, not having come yet. My muscles seemed all locked up. He zipped up loosely and pulled me over into his lap. We lay there panting, and just simply experiencing. Ah, the afterglow. I was sore. Very sore, and very happy. I saw my pants crumpled on the console, leaned over and reached into the pocket. “Do you mind?” I mumbled. “No, go ahead.” I lit the smoke and leaned back into my lover’s warm embrace. The smoke wafted across the ceiling. I reached back and rolled down the window. The smell of wet desert flora and rain greeted me. The downpour had ceded to a slight drizzle, long had visibility been enough to drive. I put out the smoke in the backseat console, and his arm interrupted me. Pinching at my inner thigh, his thumb nuzzled my swollen button. Getting a fiendishly sinful idea, I swatted him away and flipped over, a devilish mood overcoming me. On my elbows, I stripped down his jeans, already unbuttoned, and dove for it. My lonely, celibate existence had been shattered by this beautiful boy and his bounty of wondrous orgasms, and I wanted to make tonight even more awesome. Sucking and licking his balls, I worked my way up his shaft, licking and biting. I hadn’t done this much, but I gave it my all. I’m proud that I was able to swallow him all, lips resting on his balls, even if it hurt and I had to do everything to fight my gag reflex. His member swelled even bigger, filling my mouth and jamming my throat. I bobbed my head up and down, sucking hard and banging the inside of my throat, over and over, knowing it would hurt now and a lot later. I even started getting a taste for the pain. Getting tired and very sore, I stopped when I feared he was near orgasm. I slipped off and sucked him clean, then mounted the back seat, ass in the air, my head literally crammed into the back window. It was a great view, I’m sure. I had sympathy for his position while giving me my lickins’ earlier. But I wanted to do this. Getting behind me, cramped, he guided his raging cock to my pussy. “Mmm-mm,” I murmured and again I took over. Rubbing his cock in my slit, getting it wet, adrenaline filled me, and fear made me doubt if I really wanted to do this. I slowly slipped his rod back, surprising him, and guided it up to my anus. His experimentation earlier had given me newfound sexual inspiration. I hoped. “Are you sure?” He paused. “Yeah. Uh, yeah, do it.” He grabbed my hips and pushed. Rollercoaster fear and nausea filled my body as the fiery, filling pain and pressure overtook me. I cried in pain, and he stopped. “Really?” I didn’t feel really, but deep down I loved this, pain and all. “Yes. Do it!” He pushed in hard and started fucking me, fucking me hard in the ass. The pain was overwhelming. I swooned and collapsed against the seat, head swirling. Oh god, did it hurt. Screaming in pain, clenching the seat with dug in fingernails, I was loving it. I slowly relaxed, and found it was less painful that way. My pain-filled cries changed to animal growls. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me… HARDER!” Yes, harder, so hard. I was hurting, moaning, and very much enjoying. So was he apparently; grunting and keening, he seemed close to cumming. Always the gentleman though, even in this, he moved one hand around my hip and started grinding my clit. Too much sensation, I started bucking. Ramming myself into him, pushing him deeper. I felt so much pleasure from this. Suddenly I felt close to cumming too. The feeling seemed to crest, then came again and took me, both of us orgasming simultaneously. Suddenly it hurt bad, and I pushed him out even as I was cumming and gushing still. We settled, just rested, panting in the darkness. After a few minutes, I rose and exited out the back door, nothing but the dark, damp miles of desert around us. Both of us, him naked from the waist up, me naked from the waist down, slowly waddled to our respective doors and got in. He put on his shirt and I my pants. We kissed again for a while, and he started the car. The thundering roar was a wake-up call back to reality. I lit a smoke and we rolled quietly down the dark road. Noticing a flash in the sky, suddenly there were dozens of meteors cascading down, over and over. They never seemed to stop. “How about that,” he quietly remarked. The sun started coming up as we turned down my road. It was the last I saw of the meteors. He found my house, and as I exited and headed for the dark structure, he called, “Will I see you again?” I just smiled and said, “Well, you always know where I work!” The last I saw was that red-and-white rocket and that beautiful boy bathed in orange sunrise, pulling away. I went inside and crashed. I was tired, bruised, sore in many ways, and blissfully satisfied. I was uncertain and queasy about the last part of what we did, but I was pretty sure I liked it. I hurt with how hard he’d fucked me, and it felt good. I fell asleep with a smile on my face. I awoke to the early evening, and the alarm squawking away, as it had been for a while. I cursed and hurriedly got dressed, mussed my hair, and headed out the door, the beautiful stranger still on my mind. I was late. *** This is a first story. Please critique and send me some feedback. Thx, sensousacumen |
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Incredible
