Fun in My Partner's Old Car

My nose at once picked up the horny fragrance of his unmistakable pheromone spice from earlier on in the work day when he was sitting behind his big desk at the office, mingling now with my own strong, sex-induced cock sweat.

"... funny thing ... I'd know his strong cock smell anywhere ..." I thought to myself.

"... amazing how we get to intuitively recognize our lover's unique male scent ... yup ... I'd know the horny, intimate smell of his hot, ripe man package in the pitch black dark ..."

I started to finish myself off, every now and then letting my sensitive, hard cock head rub against the worn fabric of his driver's seat where I knew his low-hanging testicles and thick shaft had been earlier that day.

Every thirty seconds or so I'd pump his gas pedal, crank his starter and curse and command his stubborn, shitty old Pontiac to turn over for me.

On the tenth try, I kept up with the brutal cranking with my ass raised right up out of his seat ... jerking his car key forcibly forward and holding it in the START position.

I kept my foot mashed down firmly to the floor on his worn gas pedal and sank back down into the hollowed-out ass imprint impression he'd made in his seat.

His old shitbox protested and shuddered violently as I cranked it relentlessly and continuously with single-minded obsession.

My ass could feel every vibration running through me like an electric live wire until his stubborn old car started to sputter and stumble.

I moaned loudly and rubbed out one man-sized load of juicy cum once that son of a bitch finally fired up for me.

My creamy jizz blasted out of my sensitized, throbbing dick and splattered all over my partner's steering wheel and dripped down onto his floor mat.

All the while, I was flooring and gunning the shit out of his precious wheels ... managing to synchronize the struggling, shaking movements of his ride with the huge cum shots blasting out of my cock.

It felt like I was fucking his car to get it to stay running for me ... a very strange, perverted sensation. I wondered then to myself if it was just me and my weird fetish thoughts and imagination, or whether he had ever felt that way or thought the same thing in his ride???

Afterward, the smell of my sex and spent cock inside his wheels was unmistakable and overpowering.

I took some of my thick cum load and rubbed it between my legs onto his driver's seat. I wanted to know his hard man ass would be sitting on some of my dried-up, crusty spunk load every time he planted his hot butt and furry package in his seat and drove the shit out of his ride from that moment on.

Then I pulled his keys out of the ignition and with sudden inspiration, took his ignition key and rubbed it back and forth across my leaking spent cock head, making sure some of my jizz was coating it. This was the most perverted thing I had ever done in my life up to that point. It was a totally uninhibited, inspired and shocking thing to do and made me smile ... such a dirty-minded, fetishistic, perverted little cock-sucker I could be at times ...

The last thing I did before shoving his ignition key back into his ignition switch, starting his old car up and driving away was to take off his tweed sport coat and wipe what was left of the last wads of cum remaining on my cock head, his steering wheel and his trousers onto the inside lining and arm pit of his sleeve and onto the back of his favorite tie.

Finally, I silently drove my stud man's old 6000 home not believing I had just done what I had ... both to it and the work clothes he had worn in to his office that day.

Once parked in the garage again, I aggressively stomped on his worn gas pedal for a long time. I got out quietly, hoping and praying that his fucking, non-descript "Howard" would be a stubborn, cock-sucking son of a bitch and refuse to turn over for him the next morning.

I was thinking and wishing, "... yup ... a perverted, dirty-minded, jerk-off cumfest session just now and hopefully ... a hot and messy blow job with your head buried in his furry crotch with his big, hairy tool gagging you ... erupting and shooting his thick, creamy spunk load all over your face and down your throat in the morning ..."

I did that in his old heap a few more times until he had to get rid of his old, cum-sucking Pontiac "aka Howard" in late 1991.

By then I'd left plenty of cum wads inside his unreliable daddy, beige sedan.

His worn and sagging, cum-stained driver's seat felt good and familiar to me ... especially when I remembered my butt plug and used it while sitting there cranking the shit out his nasty ass bastard of a car.

Ironically, I missed his old set of wheels for the longest time after it was gone.

I wished we'd kept it. However, it would have been too risky to try and explain to my partner why I'd have wanted to.

By that time, his prized ride was rusted out and on its last legs, dying a slow painful death and not at all dependable.

Not that it ever was dependable for him (... come to think of it ...) for the entire time he owned and drove his old 6000.

Especially when I got my hot, little hands on it and wanted to keep him stranded at home for those early work day morning "... cock-sucking, fuck my face and eventually head in to the office blow job sessions ..."

I don't know if he ever figured out what was going on between me and his car.

If he did, he never let on to me.

Of course, he'd have lost his "cock-sucker service fringe benefits" if he ever alluded to or mentioned it.

So, I guess I'll never know for sure whether he did or didn't catch on eventually.

Some secrets are best kept silent between intimate partners and boned up, horny lovers and their weird, unusual sexual fetishes and private, dirty-minded little fantasies.

As a last reflection and admission here, I'll admit I do still keep his old sport coat to this day.

When he isn't around and I'm feeling frisky and lonely, I sometimes forcibly jerk off while wearing it, using it's well-christened coarse tweed sleeve and arm pit as a cum towel and fantasize about the secret dirty, perverted, fetish-inspired private fun I used to have in his prized daddy wheels, my partner's old car.

Post Script:

I'll save this for a sequel. But there's something more about my hot lover's personal ride I'll let you in on now.

He took proud delivery of his Pontiac 6000 family mid-size, four door sedan brand new in late '82 as I told you all at the beginning of my story.

He got duped by the salesman and coerced in to purchasing the extended GM warranty package for it at the time, thinking that his first shiny, brand new car would give him years of carefree enjoyment and trouble-free driving.

Once he had his prized baby fully paid off after 4 years, the GM warranty expired. At that point, he became personally responsible for full and comprehensive ongoing repair and maintenance of his then aging and unreliable "straight daddy" family man Pontiac 6000.

As he was a complete moron with respect to how to take care of his wheels and because of those mystifying, inexplicable early work day mornings when the "... fucking (... his words here, not mine ...) son of a bitch, cock-sucking, shitbox ..." just wouldn't turn over for him, I offered to take over the ongoing maintenance responsibilities for his personal wheels.

I think he was secretly relieved I offered to do this for him so he wouldn't have to turn around and ask me.

Never one to admit he didn't know as much as his cute "Cookie" ... his young, trophy boy lover (... a narcissistic, personal plug, admittedly -- am grinning here ...) I continued to let him think he was the confident mentor and master to maintain a balance of power and harmony between us and to let him to think he had an upper hand with respect to his wisdom and maturity.

That being said, I was good buddies with a bisexual mechanic who owned a local neighborhood garage and who knew his way around vehicles.

I slipped him a few hundred bucks to install a fuel shut-off switch under the passenger seat in my hot, butch stud man's cranky son of a bitch old Pontiac.

I had to let him in on why I wanted to do this, ... and he really got off on my stories to him about giving my sexy, mature lover road head and blowing his big cock whenever his shitty, old car wouldn't start for him.

Three hundred bucks later and the secret switch got discreetly installed where, unnoticed by my man, I could unobtrusively flick it on and off at will.

I swore my buddy to absolute secrecy about the switch on the promise I'd tell him stories about the times I fooled around with it when my handsome, older lover and I got stranded on deserted country back roads alone.

My partner always was sent right over the proverbial edge whenever he was innocently cruising down the road and his shitbox Pontiac suddenly and inexplicably died on him.

At times like this, he had to wrestle with his steering wheel and the loss of power steering by angrily fighting to direct and guide his prized baby over to the side of the road in order to pump and crank the living shit out of it.

Whenever it stalled out on him and that red GEN light flickered and lit up on his dashboard, he'd let loose with every expletive known to man and manage to fit them all into one sentence too.

I was always impressed and amazed when his tongue let loose with ten or more profanities in one explosive breath and had to bite my lip not to crack up when he'd let loose with his colourful, verbal tirade.

I know this sounds mean of me. Rest assured though, I loved him very much, still do to this day and always will.

I think he was mortified and humiliated whenever his prized wheels conked out on him. He probably took it as a sign of impotence ... a direct attack and blatant affront to his manly pride and masculinity whenever his old Pontiac pulled this inexplicable crap on him with me in the car so intimately close beside him in the passenger seat.

"... something beyond his ability, being the confident, older, wiser one in our relationship to figure out, control or fix ..."

He kept threatening to get rid of his quote, "... fucking, cum-sucking, piece of crap shitbox ..." at times like this until I became the voice of reason and calmly reminded him that his car was fully paid off and all he had to worry about was paying the annual license plate renewal fee and insurance for him and me ... keeping gas and oil in it (... on which he was really negligent and clueless about ...) ... and suffering the rare times when it broke down on him and needed maintenance or repair.

This kept him tooling around in his old " ...Howard ... " for five more years.

I 've got a few great stories of late night, lonely, isolated country road, messy blow jobs, back seat "fuck me" fests and one time even, when he bent me over the front of his prized baby and fucked my butt hard and brutally with the hood up while I was trying to adjust his carb ....

Thank God, I always kept a cum towel under his driver's seat and a tube of KY in the glove compartment. ...

I've also got stories about a few urgent, intense "... suck my sweaty, hard dong! It wants your tongue teasing it, c'mon "Cookie"... honey ... get down there and suck it NOW!!! ... " times when I would go down on him, inhaling and taking in the cloying, manly smell of his hairy, pungent crotch, while paying worship to his big cock under the veiled, cloaked darkness of late night when we stalled out in the middle of nowhere.

It always amused me when he referred to his beautiful cock as his "dong." One time when I was in the back seat with him and he was about to drill my ass, I said to him, " ... I want your big, hairy King Kong dong inside me NOW!!! ... " He burst out laughing, horked up a big spit wad of saliva into his hand to lube up my butt hole and commenced to pound my ass like an obsessed, mindless sex cum pig that night.

Henceforth, from that moment on his eight-incher earned the moniker "King Kong Dong ..."

Sometimes, when we were out together socially in a public setting, he'd quietly come up behind me, lean in close so I could feel his body heat, blow softly into my ear and whisper, "King Kong, Cookie" then quietly chuckle when he saw me turn beet red.

Such is the secret code and language between two men hopelessly addicted to and passionately in love with each other ...

Needless to say, his beautiful cock got fantastic road head from me on the drives home those nights ...

There were other memorable "... I need your big, thick cock up my butt hole NOW!!! ... " times when I would scramble to climb over into his back seat and beg him to aggressively fuck me up the ass ... the ass that he knew belonged only to him and was solely reserved for his private pleasure and gratification any time he wanted and demanded it.

This only happened rarely whenever he was able to wrestle and maneuver his limping, stalled wheels over to a particularly dark and totally hidden, secluded, isolated spot ... well out of discovery, way off to the far side of the road.

I remember those times, when with single-minded determination he'd put his big warm hand on my head and with one objective in mind, push me forcefully down into the padding of his back seat. He'd roughly pull my pants down to expose my tight butt hole, loosen his belt, quickly unzip his pants, lube me up with KY and pull out his fully aroused thick, throbbing, pre-cum leaking cock.

Then he'd forcefully ram his pulsing shaft deep into me and plow my ass until he'd yell out, "... Oh fuck, I'm cumming! Oh man ... oh fuck ... oh fuck ... oh fucking Jesus Christ fuck! Am gonna' cum inside you "Cookie" ... honey ... right NOW!!! ..."

Those times, psychologically it seemed like he was trying to reclaim his masculine edge by branding me inside ... refuting the frustration and disappointment he was experiencing with his aging, unreliable, old Pontiac by restaking his exclusive claim to me ... relaiming his manliness and power ... demanding my submission ... having me under his absolute command and control ... to service and yield to him, with rope after rope of his hot, thick, and sticky cum exploding deep inside of me ...

Now that I come to think of it, the big back seat of his old 6000 over time got worn down and saw almost as much hot sex action between him and me as his cum-stained, sagging old driver's front seat.

That is before his tired, high mileage, oil-burning wheels finally met with a brutal, sudden and decisive, explosive final death.

His engine threw a piston rod, destroying the crankcase and cracking the aluminum block when he was really late for an important staff meeting and aggressively booting his baby in to work one morning.

He told me he was freaked about possibly missing the meeting and trying to get every last bit of power out of his wheels. He'd mashed his worn gas pedal hard down to the floor to get up to speed and merge with the fast traffic flow onto the highway.

His old heap essentially crapped out on him completely while he had the pedal to the metal one last time.

I wasn't with him. But I can imagine the scene with the blue, acrid-smelling, burning smoke coming out of the open front hood of his car from his dead engine, while he stood there slowly shaking his head in stunned shock.

He'd have been dumbfounded ... his hand running through and mussing up his thick, wavy hair ... then sadly rubbing his dark, five o'clock shadowed jaw in despair and complete disbelief

My poor stud man, stranded off on the shoulder of the on-ramp, wondering what in the fucking Hell he was going to do next ...

His personal set of wheels was well beyond serious consideration of any cost-effective and practical repair.

That was in '91. I remember that hot, steamy, humid August morning.

After that, he had no option but to have old "Howard" towed to the junkyard for used parts and a date with the crusher.

The day he called me from his office and gave me the bad news about his old Pontiac was one truly sad day for both him and me ... for very different reasons.

But I digress here ...

I'll save the other fuck daddy sexual times and experiences with my mature stud partner and his old car for another story and another time.

... so, until that time ...

" ... vroom, vroom ... baby ... pump it, flood it and crank it!!! ... "

Hope you enjoyed my story. The true stories are always the best stories ... don't you think???

:-)

Thanks for reading it!