Our Little Secret
Ryan wanted to share this little piece of flash fiction with you as a Welcome Gift of sorts.
It’s the story of a man and the love he has for his neighbor’s possessed car.
I sure hope they used Armor All on those seats!
Midnight and again I find myself in the drivers seat of my neighbors car.
The old Camaro. The orange one with the single black racing stripe that came up the hood just in front of the driver and continued across the roof and shot all the way down the back where it met up with the dual exhaust. When the peddle was to the metal it sounded like a fierce thunderstorm charging across the horizon.
Although, when you were behind the wheel it was more like the car was driving you. You only thought that you wanted to go to the store to pick up some cold cuts and a loaf of bread, but instead you ended up in a cemetery on the far side of town. And when you rode in her, yes it was a HER, she almost talked to you. Each ride you found yourself falling more and more in love with her and she with you.
What started out as a one time trip to pick up a friend at the airport when my car was in the shop lead to this: me stealing my neighbors car at 1am to take her out for a joy ride.
It was an evil exhilarating thrill almost like cheating on your wife. It felt so good while you were in the drivers seat. The thought of getting caught never entered your mind until after you had cum and it was time to go home. It was then that the guilt set in, tearing at the very fibers of your soul.
And like I said, each time we ended up in a cemetery of all places. With the headlights off, she’d drive us up past the front gate and then down the winding dirt road until we were out of sight from the main highway. She’d click on the radio and we’d listen to the sounds of long forgotten music from a simpler decade in the way distant past. Sometimes it wasn’t music at all. Sometimes it was a weird voice-like chant, almost alien in nature. Hypnotic and soothing.
Several nights a week we’d sit there for hours in that cemetery. At some point in the night her warmth and gentle touch would excite me to a point in which I wanted to explode. I’d crawl out of the door and drop my pants to the ground. I’d take myself in my hand and masturbate in the moonlight. I’d make wild passionate love to myself and to her in my mind. I’d cum with the force of a thousand stock cars all hitting the wall at top speed as I sprayed my fluids onto the grass and the nearby tombstones. Exhausted and satisfied I’d climb back into the Camaro and head for home.
As we approached the house she’d again snap off the headlights and roll quietly into the driveway.
No one has to know.
It’s our little secret.
Happy Valentine’s Day
Leave a Reply