Stories, Stereotypes & Superlatives

"Oh gawd Jen, really?" It was from Melissa, she was now throwing her mock disgust her other friend's way, an attempt at avoidance and humor. It worked well, she was laughing again, Allison's aforementioned laughter joining her in chorus.

When Jennifer had turned back to look at the driver of the odd car, nipples tingling in glorious visual stimulation - assuming he would be watching her rub her chest, maybe even crash his car because of her perfect body - her jaw fell seeing his blatant gape and gasp. Wyatt was not looking at Jennifer, though. He had finally directed all of his attention to Guinevere. His stare, was locked on her stare. Guinevere's stare was locked on his car, barely glancing at him. The universe had aligned, and Jennifer went beet red with fury.

"She likes my car..." he thought. Wyatt knew women liked cars, sometimes, on occasion, but a female liking this car, his beater, was a first. Usually they like only his appearance, or only his bravado, never was his beater included.

She would watch his car for a long moment, and then glance at him with questions plastered to her smooth freckled face. Though just as fast as the glance arrived, it was turned back to watch the car. It seemed to Wyatt that she wanted to ask him a hundred questions. She appeared to be good at the car sex too, and best of all she was not trying.

It was his turn for confusion, though. Wyatt knew there was a car coming. He saw Guinevere look at it for a moment too, leaning back, unintentionally flashing cleavage when she looked past the driver's seat and out the front window. It was the gloriously full, mostly freckled, deep, and with stunningly hard nipples type of cleavage he had hoped for finding. She was looking towards the windshield of the car she was in, only her head turned, not her body, causing barely red hair to frame her face. Wyatt had that sudden feeling that he knew her, again.

"No, I've never met her, have I?" Wyatt was running motorized tricks and thousands of people's names through his mind as he turned to watch the car approach. It was time to get back into the correct lane, and he had been busted by brown eyes with green flecks when she turned back. Those eyes busted him staring at her freckled cleavage, and she was smiling at his soul.

"I'm gonna see if I can get him to crash," was what Guinevere heard as Jennifer pulled her bikini top of in a naked display, thinking he wouldn't have a chance. "He won't be able to resist these babies," she was saying as she pointed each index figure at one of the perky, well above average breasts attached to her body. Jennifer had a stupid grin on her face, nodding her head up and down comically. It was a good show.

"God your such a skank, Jenny," Allison said to the car with a huge smile.

"You know it, slut," was Jennifer's reply to her friend as the approaching car came into the 'not safe' zone of a potential head on collision.

Guinevere watched Wyatt glance over at the exposed melons. What man wouldn't? Wyatt though, simply glanced, and stuck his bottom lip out slightly. "Not bad," was all the silent statement said. Immediately after, he turned his attention back to Guinevere, watching him intently.

"Watch this," he said aloud as he stuck the non-cigarette into his mouth. The phrase seemingly mouthed to the women's car, but purely for Guinevere's benefit. He pulled the emergency brake while turning the wheel at the women's car. The jolt of the maneuver slid his sunglasses over his eyes; he did not flinch. The vehicle spun until he faced their car for a moment, looking over his hood once again.

For a second, Jennifer and Melissa though he was going to slam into the compact model in which they resided, causing them to jump. Jennifer's unclad and unsupported breasts were not following her body, hilariously, as she moved towards the window and door behind her.

Allison never saw a thing he did, only a car suddenly in her rear view. She was watching the approaching car. She was watching with genuine worry for everyone about to be involved in an accident that did not happen.

Guinevere watched the dance.

Wyatt hit nothing except a perfect shaped maneuver, screechily falling behind their car in another cloud of smoke, a small distance from their rear bumper, never losing speed, and never falling behind. The sound of his stereo, and of his screaming exhaust, made their radio seem off for a moment. He was matched to their speed, never knowing what it was numerically.

Guinevere had one hand on the back deck, staring out the rear window of one of her best friend's cars, and she was giving Wyatt a 'thumbs up' gesture. Her fuller cleavage was visible to him through defroster lines, sexily pushed up from the back of the seat.

The once approaching car passed both cars, through the cloud of smoke, with its horn flowing the whole time.

***

"THAT FUCKING KID!!! AGAIN!!"

The driver was screaming aloud in his trash filled, poorly running sedan. He did not notice the car in his lane for a long time, and by the time he did, it would have been too late.

He was texting, tuning, and generally not driving, as always. Now though, he was doing nitro powered push-ups into his steering wheel, banging his back against his torn pleather seat. As he continued to yell, he was swerving across the center divider and shoulder line of Beaches Highway.

"I hope the Sergeant catches his stupid fucking dumbass kid mother fucking face soon! That little motherfucker! He's going to kill someone!"

When he calmed down, he went back to finishing the text message. He knew his team was going to win on Sunday, it didn't matter what his friend thought.

***

Jennifer's lip started to quiver; her tears were built and ready. She did not cry though, she just sniffled once, dabbing the tears from her eyes before they fell, all while re-tying her bikini top. Allison looked a little worried when she glanced at her, then at the rearview, then back to the road.

"Should I pull over?" Allison was asking everyone.

"I'm ok," Jennifer interrupted before anyone could speak, "he just scared me for a second, that's all. You jerk-off!" Jennifer started timidly laughing again as she preemptively dabbed the tears away and yelled at Wyatt - who could not hear her. Allison and Melissa joined the giggle as they drove on.

"Ooo, looks like Gwen's in looooove!" Melissa had thrown the comment out, easing the remaining tension and elevating the returning giggles. It was then Jennifer saw Melissa softly touch her on her arm. "It'll be ok, Jenny," she mouthed to her friend. Melissa always knew her feelings even when she lied; the two had been friends longer than the rest.

Jennifer giggled more, even though she was heartbroken. She had been ignored, and blown off, for the first time in her twenty-two years. Blown off by a man she did not know, and had never met. All by a man she now wanted more than every other.

"I just might be..." was Guinevere's spoken reply, nervous and giggly as she watched him. This man drove like her daddy when her mother was not in the 'family' car, but when Guinevere was. Memories of being in the passenger's seat of the pristine car with an oversized helmet and well buckled into the seat against the centrifugal force drove through her mind. She wanted to say something else to her friends in the car, to join in the laughter, but she couldn't turn away from Wyatt's perfect smile.

She was still staring out the window, spun around in her seatbelt, on her knees, her freckled back and shoulders facing her friends. Her perfectly rounded and plumb behind was pointed at them, wrapped only in her thin suit. It should have been a painted target with its flawlessness.

Jennifer apparently thought so.

Allison had turned the stereo down shortly after the last stunt. The now sound of the slap on Guinevere's ass was well above his car sounds in their interior. Jennifer had left a semi agitated palm print on her creamy, spotted, and lightly tanned skin. The gesture snapped Guinevere back to reality, and her friends.

"Maybe you'll see him in town, if you get lucky," Jennifer said to her, as their car began the long smooth turn that marked the half-way point of this leg of the journey. They would be on the beach in less than an hour.

"Right! Yeah! Maybe you will!" The other two girls chimed in. All four were suddenly nervous, and the car felt hot inside. They all imagined a personal chance encounter - with Wyatt and alone on the beach; a man whose name they did not know.

As Allison pulled out of the slow turn and onto another long straight-away, they all heard the sound his engine rev a few times before he moved back into place along side their tires. No vehicles could be seen in the distance, once again, as they all stared at him, and he stared a Guinevere.

Allison turned up the air conditioning.

***

Wyatt knew where he was. That was the slowest he had ever driven around that curve, as the sight lines of it were long and clean. It was more than worth it, until the girl with the ever-so-slight-red hair spun around and disappeared. He could only see the top of her head now.

His smiled vanished, replaced by a sad look on his face. "Uh-oh. What did I do?" He was speaking aloud to himself a moment after she turned, and he heard it over the stereo.

The small part of his brain that still believed in partial driving safety spawned the reminder that he should relax and wait for the end of the turn to play some more. It came with the thought of "be a man, and stop worrying" tagging along behind it. He chose to listen to himself, again, as always. It was not as easy thing for him to always do.

It was his favorite turn on the trip to take at top speed, as the slight crown of the road made it exciting, almost scary, at the single dip in the center of the center line. That spot always brought up the thought of the Golden Spike for two railroads, he never knew why.

Wyatt could have a blast with the angle and their car, thinking of long distance drifts, and the closeness to sexy women. He had other plans though, mentally doing math on distance and time. Once again being satisfied with his calculations, sure of where he was and their eight breasts, he made his move out the turn. He spiked his engine a few times before he launched, he was letting the college students know that he was coming.

***

"Ooo, he's back," Allison played the token first like a professional, wink and kiss, and all while looking his way, her breath barely steaming the window for a flash. She was trying again; the anticipation had gotten to her.

"Yes he is..." Jennifer was unaware she said it until it was out, causing Melissa to look her way in amazement. Jennifer was lying across the back of her reclined seat, on her elbow, her neck was craned to look past Allison. Jennifer's left breast wash squished on her left arm. One knee, the right one, was raised to form a leg triangle. She was playing it cool like only a woman can, sex on display and in a bikini. Her intentions were still to make him crash, or notice her and then crash, both acceptable to her mind.

Melissa was sitting turned in her seat, legs crossed, with her left knee lifted slightly higher along the back bench. The seatbelt still split her breast, the width of the belt dipping into her cleavage, making them somehow larger. Her forearms were in her lap, but her hands and fingers were slowly passing along the smooth skin under her tan thighs.

Flushed and warm already, thanks to Wyatt, emotion, and his perfect smile, the now colder air was guaranteed goose bumps for all four. With his sunglasses back on, he could now stare at the group at once, and he was.

The four young women carefully studied him lifting his left hand, they could not see he was driving with his right, but he was. He then performed a 'screaming eagle' using his left hand and the not-cigarette, turning his head to mark that it was for Guinevere. Then he turned back to the road for a long moment, broad smile endless.

In reality he was fighting the urge to cough. He played it off like a professional driver.

"Smooth," Guinevere said aloud, fogging the glass herself. She was sitting on her left leg, hands clasp to the dimpled plastic of the door panel.

They all giggled and smiled because they each agreed with her, with Melissa even clasping both hands to her own mouth. Jennifer was slowly running the fingers of her right hand across her left thigh, the one touching the seat. She was turned on. His flamboyance and ignorance, along with her own right arm on the curve of her own hip; were all making it worse.

"I think I might have to pull over anyway..." Allison said to all, she was having a hard time concentrating on the road. Cold air barely masked the delicious feminine scents in the car and it occurred to Allison she just might have to crack a window open, anyway.

Melissa actually clapped due to laughing so hard with the others on that one, but it only added to their lusty enjoyment.

Thoughts of a cheap puppet show and two puppets, one an angel and one a devil, beating each other with caveman clubs, flashed in Wyatt's mind.

His little trick was stupid, but as he watched them laugh, he couldn't help himself. He knew his games were being successful. The sounds of women out of breath and laughing aloud were ringing in his mind's eye as he wished he could hear it.

Now, though, he had to hurry, the driver, the black haired girl, was all over the place. She had the cruise on earlier, and assuming she must have been excited, maybe nervous, now she was flying. This girl was accelerating randomly, going faster and faster, then slower, then faster again.

The pair of cars moved like horses to the finish line, as he tried to keep pace constantly redoing his math. He slung his left wrist across the wheel again, and lifted his right, pointing his index finger to the road ahead. He knew where they were going, and he hoped the hotness in the back driver's seat knew the question he was silently asking. He pushed up both of his eyebrows past his glasses to signal her, crinkling his forehead slightly.

Wyatt looked right at Guinevere, causing her chest to rise, and his member to twitch in his slightly baggy, boot cut jeans. If she did know the question, he would be in heaven, never before so lucky. Especially since beach season hadn't even started yet, and if he was right, he had all summer to find her. If she knew, it would Ying his Yang.

"Does he want to race me?" Allison was asking everyone, knowing her tiny car had little left. Melissa and Jennifer shrugged their shoulders in unison.

"Well he obviously knows where we are going," Jennifer was getting fed up with him. She could no longer take the fact that he didn't want to look at her, to pick her, as she turned her head to the left. It was the first time in their friendship, that Jennifer became jealous of intelligent, sweet, beautiful, perky, usually single Guinevere.

"No. No, don't. He wants to know how long we're staying," She looked away from the mirrors over his eyes for only a moment to glance at her friends.

"How do you know?" Melissa asked her, having no clue what he was pointing at but knowing exactly why Jennifer was throwing daggers for vision.

"I just do, watch," she was confident and smiling before she mouthed the words "all summer" to him with one hand on the door panel the other twisted into a 'thumbs up' symbol for him to see.

Wyatt shot an 'ok' of his own with a broad grin, switching the shape of his right hand to answer. He meant it only for her, even though they all received it. Guinevere's mouth fell open and into neutral; she shivered to wetness at his hand gesture.

"Did he know? No way. We are no where near daddy's track." She couldn't stop running questions and answers through her head. He didn't seem at all familiar to her.

"Fine," stated Jennifer, harshly, as she watched Guinevere, thinking of a hundred ways to have her killed at the same time he was moving his left hand to the steering wheel in his ride.

"He's out of time and he has to go" Guinevere said as he quickly, silently, looked at his left hand, then back to her, tapping two fingers where a watch would be if he didn't have several rubber bands in trade.

"Ok, bye," Guinevere mouthed the words to him with a single kiss, wink, and wave when she finished. It was the single hottest thing Wyatt had ever seen.

He downshifted, flooring the gas pedal, making his missile burn away leaving a trail of light smoke as the tires almost lost traction. He watched Guinevere until Jennifer could not see him staring at her friend anymore. He had been making a piece sign, after a whip of his right wrist, as a final cheesy joke.

It worked; they could only help but giggle at his bravado, watching him disappear ahead of them, a distance later swinging down the last side road before the town on the ocean, the road was just before the bay. The odd thing had been sideways, and sliding, when it turned.

As Wyatt raced around the last turn to get home, slightly faster than usual, he mostly thought of rubbing one out onto her various and beautiful freckle covered parts. Other than that, he thought of finishing his real car after his personal hand session, and wondered if she'd be there tonight. He was also thinking of what her nipples looked like, slowly running his hand idly along the roll bar at the roof of the car as he drove the home stretch.

All the while he was forcing himself to not calculate the chances of seeing them.

*** Stereotypes

The group of college cuties made it to their rented house, right on the beach - in one piece - and began unpacking the small car after a much needed stretch. As many bags as they had, and as small as the car was, most would have thought they were unloading clowns. They chatted at a rapid pace, never a short pause, or silence. They were all trying not to talk, or think; about the nameless Wyatt.

That all changed when they finished unpacking and hit the beach where they proceeded to lounge, lie. The three girls that were working the summer shops for the season did not have to start working until Monday. As it was the first chance of the year to proudly display their bodies in the glorious sun, they went out after a late lunch of fruits and water.

"He's got to have money, cars aren't cheap" Allison was taking about Wyatt, again. The first chance she had. Well after rubbing her soaked panties to two climaxes in the downstairs bathroom and after swearing that was the end of him. Now lying on her stomach, on a towel, top undone and aside, he was back in her head with a vengeance.

"Then why was his car so shitty? Oh god, plus he was so cheesy." Jennifer thought Wyatt was some lazy broke stoner, she knew he was, and she had to convince the others so that he was hers if she could find him. She was locked in the upstairs bath seconds after her bags hit the room she shared with Melissa, two fingers as deep as they could go as she ran thoughts of Wyatt pulling her hair, and treating her rough.

In her fantasy, he never asked her name, never told her his. She was still tingling with thoughts of her wonderful climax, which was a problem as Melissa was rubbing lotion into her back and shoulders. Jennifer was kneeling on the towel they shared, sitting on her legs, with Melissa doing the same behind her, both lying. It was the best trick the pair knew to get boys to approach.

It was working well, as they had built a small crowd 'watching' the pick up football game that was 'planned' twenty or so feet away. The game looked incredibly similar to tossing a ball around while gawking. The phrase "yo" was thrown about, as all the 'players' had their attention elsewhere. There were quite a few other fine women on the beach, some further along towards the water, but these four had the stage.