The Car Ch. 2

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Laura discovers flashing can be fun.
3.6k words
4.42
44.7k
3

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/28/2022
Created 09/02/2002
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My thanks to my editor Wildsweetone for the time she has spent on this story, as always any mistakes are mine not hers. This story is a sequel to another story of mine - THE CAR

When the phone rang the room had been filled with the sound of frenetic Gaelic music, Laura uncurled her legs, got up from her chair, paused her favorite video, “Riverdance”, before answering. “Mom how could you do this to us?” Laura held the receiver away from her ear - Amy’s voice was strident and angry. “Have you got no consideration for me or Ken or for your grandchildren? I feel sorry for Pop, I don’t know how he will be able to face anyone.”

“Sorry for your … him! Why he’s the one who has run off with a woman young enough to be his daughter. Don’t you go taking your Pop’s side.” Laura yelled back down the phone, Amy’s mention of Josh had triggered her temper.

“I didn’t, not until you began acting like a teenager.” Laura’s daughter Amy replied.

“If this is about Simon I am not discussing my private life with you!” Laura’s hands were shaking when she slammed the handset into its cradle. For a long minute Laura was rooted to the spot. By what right did she presume to lecture her own mother on her lifestyle?

Even when she pressed play on the remote, she was still fuming with anger. It was mid-week and nearly every channel was news or some form of cheap brain-numbing entertainment, even the films on offer had not appealed. Laura had resorted to a video she never tired of despite having watched it hundreds of times. But now even the wild Irish music and Michael Flatley’s flying feet failed to soothe her anger.

She was angry with her daughter. Angry with herself for failing to control her anger, Laura pressed, “STOP”.

She hurried into the bathroom and began to clean the gleaming tiles, then the shower stall, and then the hand basin. When she finished polishing the faucets she completed the room by washing the tiled floor. Still angry she blitzed the kitchen.

She had read in problem pages about the rivalry that soured some mother daughter relationships. The older woman being jealous of the younger woman’s good looks and youth, seeing in the younger woman the image of how she had been years before. Laura had never to her knowledge been jealous of Amy. What she had never heard of was the daughter being jealous of her mother, yet she could see no other rational explanation for her daughter’s behavior and attitude since the break up with Amy’s father Josh. She recalled her daughter saying, - I feel sorry for Pop, I don’t know how he will be able to face anyone.Trust her to take her daddy’s side – she recalled there was a condition -What’s the name for it? Like Oedipus Complex with sons and moms, named after another of those Greek heroes. She wracked her mind to recall her Graduate School Psychology; rolling back the mists created by nearly thirty years she found the name. Electra Complex! - Gee what a sex life those Greek Gods had, - they seem to have been doing it with anyone and everyone!

The bathroom gleamed, the kitchen was clinically clean, and still Laura was filled with a restlessness fuelled by anger. She went into the garage and washed her little sports car. This was the car Josh had built from a kit and secondhand parts. This was the car she had kept when Josh left to set-up home with his new woman. The Whore, Laura thought. This was the car that had led to her meeting Simon.Simon! Just saying his name to herself and she could feel her vagina opening, as if it was a void begging to be filled.Simon, she repeated his name, her clitoris was throbbing. A warm wetness began to gently churn deep inside her; where her womb was located. She ran her fingers sensuously along the car’s long sleek hood, clutched the cockpit side and held it as her fluid flowed making the gusset of her panties wet.

The garage floor was wet, water gurgled down the soak-away. Her cunt was wet, flowing down the inside of her thighs. She washed and polished the car with the care and tenderness that she would have lavished upon a lover. All the time she washed the car she had concentrated her thoughts upon Simon, banishing anger from her mind.

When she had dried the car with a leather, she waxed and polished its bodywork and wheels with the same thoroughness as she had applied to washing it. Only when it gleamed beneath the glare of the naked lights did she cease her labors. At the garage door she paused giving the car one last lingering look before she turned off the light and closed the door.

In the shower stall the water flowed the grime and sweat off her body. Standing with her legs open she aimed the showerhead, playing a power jet over her thighs and sex. She did not want to come out of the shower stall, the violent water jets massaged her inflamed labia, washing away her dried body fluids and pleasantly inducing fresh flows. Her eyes were closed, yet she saw visions of Simon and her car.

Since returning from the Sports Car races she had spent two nights the following weekend with Simon and they had arranged to be together the coming weekend. She often experienced bouts of self-doubt. At first she had doubted his commitment to her. Since her return from the races this had been less important, now she was questioning her feelings for him. Was she in love with Simon? Or was it just lust? Try as she might this was an as yet unresolved question that Laura had been struggling with.

From thinking about the conundrum posed by her relationship with Simon, Laura returned to thinking about her relationship with Amy. The fiery anger she had felt had burnt out, now she felt a sense of remorse and emptiness. It was not in her nature to let an argument drag on, for she knew this route often led to lifelong feuds.

Wearing nothing but a towel she went into the kitchen and having made herself a cup of coffee she made the telephone call. “Can I talk to Amy?” She said when her son-in-law Ken answered her call.

“Mother.” Only one word but said so sharply that the word hit Laura with the force of a bullet.

“I rang to say that I was sorry I cut you off.”

“You should be sorry for what you have done to all of us.”

“Amy how can I be sorry when I don’t know what I am supposed to have done.”

“You and that man have disgraced yourself and brought disgrace on everyone connected to you.”

“Amy stop sounding like a preacher and be specific.”

“You always do this, making it seem as if I am at fault. Well it won’t work, not this time, you did it – you are the one who is in the wrong. It’s disgusting especially at your age.”

“Amy, tell me what I have done?”

“Mother you have been acting like the kind of teenager you always warned me to stay away from.”

Laura’s patience was sorely tried as she extracted the full story from her daughter. Apparently the deserted area of the racetrack where she and Simon had made love had not been as secluded as they thought. A camera crew who had been packing away their equipment had spotted them; the resulting film had been the star feature of a hidden camera show. Because the program trailers had shown shots of Laura and Simon’s face, Amy had videoed the program.

“Fortunately I did not let the boys stay up to watch the show.” Amy concluded through clenched teeth.

Although she was shocked to realize that she had unknowingly been filmed and her lovemaking had featured on television, Laura also found the idea exciting. Even as Amy had whined her account of the television show, Laura had become aware that she was growing increasingly wet between her legs. The same lascivious wetness that she had felt when Simon had handed her the framed print of the photograph of her sex he had taken. This photograph of a disembodied open vagina framed by spread labia glistening wetly, both of them found attractive as a work of art. Now it hung proudly on her bedroom wall. The other photographs of them having sex he had put in an album, which she thought of as their special album.

“Honey can I see this video?”

“You want to see it? For god’s sake have you no shame?” Amy’s voice rose towards an incredulous screech.

“Honey if I have become notorious – infamous – whatever, don’t you think that I should at least know what everyone is talking about?”

“It’s late.”

“I’ll drive over, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”


Having thrown on a pair of jeans, and a jumper over which she wore a flying jacket (a present from Simon – he’d said it suited the car), Laura opened the garage door.

She thumbed the starter button. The cold engine coughed into life, the carburetors spitting back through the K&N filter, the side muffler barking. She closed the choke to the last notch. The engine settled into a contented burble. Gassing the little motor she put the shift into first and let the clutch out. The little car rushed out of the garage, as if glad to be unleashed into its environment – the open road.

As always when the car moved, Laura felt a rush as pure as sex. Speed limits were an annoying factor. Since her husband Josh left her and she had seized the car she had begun to accumulate speeding tickets. One had led to her meeting Simon, the other on the way home from the Sports Car Races, after the track day her mind had not adjusted to the pedestrian speed limit enforced by the Highway Patrol.

But this was not a long drive on the open highway, or a thrilling scamper along winding mountain roads. She was driving across town from one suburb to another. Driving through the commercial section the engine note echoed back to her bouncing off tall buildings.

Ken looked at her in the same way as people looked at unwanted doorstep salesmen. “Wait here.”

Afraid I’ll contaminate their house.

Amy came to the door, holding the videocassette at arms length.Even when she was little she was a drama queen. “Disgusting!” Amy said thrusting the video into Laura’s hands.

“Than …” The door slammed shut. A cold chill of regret shot through Laura chased by a hot surge of anger.Well fuck you lady, fuck you, fuck your uptight husband, and fuck your fucking father!!!

The engine gave a deeply satisfying window rattling roar when she floored the gas pedal. The rear tires squealed their protest as she dumped the clutch and the little car leapt forward.

She drove home by a circuitous route that took her out of town, onto the twisting roads where few cars went at night and even fewer police patrolled. Laura drove with the aggression of a race driver using the manual shifter, gas pedal and brakes to slide the car round bends in controlled skids.

It was only when her anger had been sated that she turned the car and headed for home.


Laura kept pushing the fast forward, they had recorded the complete program including the commercial breaks. Eventually she saw a blur that looked like her, she stopped the tape and pressed play, she saw herself and Simon. Carefully she rewound the tape to the beginning.

“Have you ever wondered about the sex lives of race-car drivers, well here is a clip of a couple on practice day at the twenty-four hour Sportscar Races.” The presenter’s face faded out to be replaced with a close-up of her and Simon.Wow that’s some telephoto lens. It’s like the camera is only two or three feet away. She had forgotten that they were arm in arm when they walked from the paddock to find that quiet spot.

She could see what had attracted the camera crews’ attention. Every movement of their bodies, the way they turned to look at one another as they spoke all conveyed that this was a couple who were deeply in love. She walked proudly her shoulders back, breasts thrusting forward, her body taut and sexy hips moving sinuously with every step,I don’t look bad for an old lady.

They had reached the place where two large transporter semi trailers where parked – when they looked there was no one around.Where had that camera crew been? They had walked around the trailers to the far side.

Laura watched herself sink to her knees on the dusty ground. Reaching up she pulled down the zipper of Simon’s overalls. It was only watching that she saw she had fumbled slightly when unbuckling his belt.Must do better she giggled when she considered putting a belt on her dress-making dummy and practicing undoing it -Shame on you even thinking such a thing!

One by one she undid the buttons of his jeans, watching herself she thought that it was a very erotic act, visually and at the time when doing it to him, far more erotic than pulling down a zipper. Men should always wear button-up pants.

My god I look like a whore. Then she realized that it was not what she was doing that was making her wet, but the knowledge that thousands, no millions of people had watched her doing it.I must find out what the show’s ratings are. She knew she should have been feeling angry at the intrusion on her privacy, and instead she was glad that the camera had such a good telephoto lens that it could zoom in for a close up. She watched her tongue languorously polishing Simon’s exposed glans, the tip of her tongue gently removing the jewel of pearlescent pre-cum from his cock’s oval eye.

He had given an ecstatic groan when she sucked in her cheeks.Nice dimples - opened her mouth.My god it looks like I am going to eat it– and swiftly swooped. His cock had filled her mouth. Urgently his hands had scrabbled mussing her hair as he pulled her down onto his hot cock. His lust had become uncontrollable. Thrusting his hips he had fucked her mouth driving deep into her mouth and she, despite gagging, had accepted him willingly.

For the first time she saw his beatific smile as he shot his hot sticky cum into her mouth.Oh my god I’m cumming for that smile. He helped her to her feet, just before they kissed she smiled at him.Ugh grotesque. Gray/white strings of his cum gave her mouth a ‘Bride of Dracula’ look, as the cum bubbled from her mouth to trickle down her chin.

As they kissed he had unbuttoned her shirt, she lowered her arms shrugging it off – it fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Her brassier had followed the shirt. Breaking their embrace he had shrugged off his overalls and laid them on the ground. It was as if they were consciously performing for the camera, they sat on the overalls facing the camera. The cameraman had seized his opportunity to zoom in on her breasts as Simon tugged off her pants.

When she spread her legs the crutch shot would not have disgraced the centerfold of any top-shelf magazine. Watching, Laura used three fingers to fill her aching void.

The camera zoomed in so tight her cunt filled the screen. Her open vagina looked like a wet velvet chasm, every crease of skin a large pleat. The juices running from her open cunt, a veritable stream, a silver rivulet running down over her perineum dividing to flow around her puckered anus, - Watching she felt wet sticky juices flowing over her fingers.

As Simon mounted her the clip faded out. “Well folks they sure are a May and December couple who have a really racy lifestyle and now we have to go to a commercial break, but don’t go away, next up …” Laura pressed the stop button.

I’m so hot – watching myself did that to me. She gave a little laugh as she thought of her neighbors – how many of them had caught the show?

Before she went into the garage she got changed carefully selecting her apparel, bearing in mind the status she was sure she now enjoyed.

The little car’s hood was still warm. The crotch belt pressed her pleasantly as she strapped herself in. The engine came to life as soon as she turned the key.Was that a drape twitching in the Jackson’s? Probably. For years Eddy Jackson had tried to stare down her halter tops, accidentally rubbed against her at parties and found reasons to call when he thought she was sunbathing in the backyard. She was certain that he had enjoyed more than an eyeful tonight.

She drove into the gas station, the moment he looked at her she knew that the kid pumping gas had been watching the television. His eyes were out on stalks, trying to clamber down into her cleavage. He stammered as he asked what she wanted. She considered adopting a Marlene Dietrich voice and saying ‘fill me up honey’. Instead she said, “Fill the tank with regular.”

Hampered by an adolescent hard-on the kid could hardly walk from the pump to the car. Laura released the harness, smiled and waited. In the mirror she could see the kid was trying to sneak looks.

“Been watching television?” She called to the kid.

The young man gulped. “S … S … S … Some.”

“See that home video out-takes show?”

Even under the neon lights she could see the boy’s blush. She heard the pump click off. Slowly she stood up. “Oh my go…”

She ignored the boy’s cry and stepped out of the car, careless of how her Tina Turner style leather mini-skirt rode up her thighs to reveal her thong. She followed the boy into the booth, “A pack of cigarettes.”

He handed them to her and rang up the cigarettes and her gas. “Anything else?” He asked.

“No.” She replied, her billfold and credit card was in the inside pocket of her flying jacket. Her stare fixed the kids eyes,Now you get your eye-full. She pulled down the zipper.

The kid’s eyes were wide open, as she reached for her billfold her jacket opened to reveal her breasts. “Look but you don’t touch.” She said as the boy’s hand shot towards her exposed breast. She looked at the material of the boy’s pants stretched taut over his bulge. The boy was frozen, and then with a gasp he clasped his groin. As she handed him her credit card she pretended not to notice the dark stain spreading across the front of his pants.

“Have a nice night now!” She said when he handed her back her card.

Well that got his motor running! She fired up the motor.Nigh on old enough to be his grandma and I can do that to him. This is fun! Pamela Anderson, Madonna all you big titted broads eat your hearts out I have arrived! She had not realized how aroused she was until she did up the harness. As she pulled the crutch belt in place it brushed against her. She sat on the forecourt, motor running, her abdomen heaving as she came and came for what seemed an eternity.Damn I’ll have to wash these harness straps!

She drove home, glancing at the dash clock she saw that it was two-fifteen when she turned into the street. Turning into the drive she glanced across the street, once again the Jackson’s living room drape moved. She was certain it was Eddy, she knew that Mina Jackson would long ago have gone to her bed.

She stopped in front of the garage, so the security light illuminated her. Slowly she stood up. Stepping out of the car she kept her back to the street and the Jackson’s. Lifting her leg over the cockpit side she ensured her skirt rode up almost to her waist. Standing by the car she stretched, waving her hands vaguely in the air.

As she opened the garage door she ignored the faint click she heard from across the street. She drove the car into the garage, and then stepped back out.

“Why hi Eddy.” She acted surprised to see him standing there. She caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard a noise. Knowing you was alone an all I thought I’d better take a look can’t be too careful ya know.”

You liar! “Oh I just went for some cigarettes, smoked all mine watching television, you watch TV tonight?”

“Sure did!”

God he’s drooling. “I think some programs are an invasion of a bodies’ privacy.”

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