"Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn
fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn"
Electronic cities and I charge my car, then inch along the autobahn. Right hand lane is all I dare as cars rocket past and I shudder in the wind. I glance to the far left but it's only the flash I see, Ferrari red, ice blue Porsche and midnight Mercedes all a blur and then tail lights. It's fast there on the concrete roads, asphalt shoulders and paint marred guard rails. Horsepower is the limit as I am shackled in amperes and voltage yearning for kilowatts.
Cars are fast on the autobahn, but the women are faster. I know I watch them in the hours I spend recharging, as they scream in the left lanes flashing their lights and then passing with the double-hi honk of the horn. I wave but they don't see me, a statue in the periphery, a bug on the windshield, a flash they once passed.
It's only when they stop for fuel that they see me and ignore me, they are liquid I am something else - firm but yielding, less than interesting. I smile and they laugh, fingers entwined as they park at the back of the lot and the windows begin to steam. That's the only time they move slowly, as they touch and liquefy. It's something I've seen, something I watch as their car begins to sway.
Fingers part the clothing as the fabric stretches and then falls away to the smoothest skin I have ever seen. Blonde on brunette, the hair cascading over the breasts, firm, full and then the dark areolas with hard nipples all soon glistening beneath the tongues. The breast play is easy, so conveniently there, protruding, maybe sagging some but so available. Sometimes it's so intense I can easily hear them, the moans, but even the wet sucking and slurping as they ready themselves for more.
Pubic hair will sometimes match their heads, other times not, but the girls don't tell. No they only feel the curls yield to their lips and tongues, the only resistance is the tickling on their cheeks. The seats recline and they slide back, opening their legs, resting them on the dashboard, or maybe hanging out a window, anything to help their lover get closer.
Tight lips soon swell to the tongue, opening, showing me the bright pink gentle curves all seemingly leading to the wet, dark entrance. Tongues slip in and fingers too, circling, tasting, and getting wet. It could yield to much more, but the tongue is just fine, slurping the wetness, tasting the tangy softness.
Ah, but the opening is just the start, then they move upwards, their tongue and lips following the unfolding flesh until they find the spot, the tiny nub that exists only for touch, fingers, a wet tongue or the gentle lips of another woman. This couple will take turns, others sixty-nine, but for me, this is best. One woman gives completely and the other receives.
Circling the clit with her tongue, she moves closer, sucking it in between her lips, and then moving her head back and forth just the slightest bit, sucking all the time. The car sways a bit as she lifts her hips and presses to her mouth, grinding against her. The motion, the rhythm, and the sway of the car becomes a dance. The two women move together now, one head bobbing while another's hips pump up and down, again and again, all in a wet unison.
You see it then as she tenses, getting closer and closer, her muscles straining, her hips moving until, yes, yes, yes, she releases and her body suddenly softens as the pleasure pulses inside her and then expands, contracts, expands. She slumps, breathing hard, her hand in her lover's hair, holding her tight against her pussy.
They pause a moment, a few moments and then, awkwardly they un-entwine and change positions. Another set of feet rests on the dashboard, hang out the window and an entirely different sway rocks the car. The wet sucking, slurping and kissing begins again. Another tongue parts more delicate lips, the wet entrance is entered, with a soft tongue, gentle fingers and then the motion is upward to the clit.
Hips rise and the moans begin again, the tensing of muscles, the sway of the car and the slow, climb to the precipice, to the edge until, almost, almost, yes, now. She comes and her body slumps, giving itself to the pleasure as inside the pulsations shake her, again and again. It then slows to light caresses, kisses all over, then on the face and lips.
They begin to talk again in a gentle tone, the urgency released. A bit of laughter as clothes are located and replaced. The engine then starts and the car backs out of the parking space. Tires squeal as they head down the roadway to the entrance ramp. Tail lights flash with a tap of the brakes and then they go dim as the car quickly becomes a blur, streaking to the left, always left.
One last puff of blue smoke and they're gone, already a klick or two away. Still waiting I charge my car and wander back towards the parking lot and wait while another pair of women fuel their white BMW. I spot a redhead this time and I picture her auburn hair sliding over the curly dark pubic hair of her lover as she moves to kiss her pussy. They are all so very fast here on the autobahn.