tagInterracial LoveThe Panel Truck

The Panel Truck


I couldn't wait to go away to college in the fall, but until then, for the entire summer, I still had to live under Daddy's thumb. That meant doing whatever Daddy wanted me to do, including going with the rest of the family to the Save Our Beach car show. I didn't mind the beach at all, but I did mind not being allowed to sun in my bikini, listening to my iPod and vegging out for the day. Instead, I had to walk from shiny car to shiny car while Daddy talked with mechanics about Mopar parts and HEMIs and intakes. The sun beat down, glinting off all the chrome and glass and mirrors. I felt a small breeze move the hem of my sundress, but it wasn't enough to bring any relief. My little brother occupied our mom by wanting to touch everything; she had to stop him. I followed Daddy around, a few steps behind him, trying hard to make sure my face clearly displayed my boredom.

I think Daddy resented me, and this was one of his final ways to show it before I escaped the nest. Whenever he opened the paper to the automotive section, found an old hotrod or muscle car, and pointed it out to Mom, she'd say, "We're saving for Nora's college. When she's done, you can get a car." I think he wanted his car more than he wanted me sometimes.

I could almost hear his thoughts as he stared at the old Fairlanes and Road Runners: "Four more years. Four more years." He'd count the days; I'd better finish my degree on time or risk losing my support.

As he talked with some guy who did custom body work, I let my gaze wander. The light flashing off all the polished vehicles dazzled me to the point of wooziness.

And then I saw him. I didn't know his name, but this was not the first car show that I'd spied him at. He stood there, buffing fingerprints out of the fender of a restored pearl-white Chevrolet panel truck. He looked like a fucking Aztec god: dark bronze skin, silky black hair tucked behind his ears, muscles rippling beneath his blue mechanic's shirt. My gaze drifted past the chrome wallet chain, down his long legs, clad in dark blue denim. He turned as he worked on the car, and I caught a glimpse of his tight ass in those jeans. I wondered what it would feel like to dig my fingers into that firm flesh as he thrust into me. I knew I wanted him, had played with the idea on several occasions, imagining -- as Daddy talked about exhausts and after-market additions -- how I would approach the man. I knew now that I didn't have much time left to act on that particular fantasy. If I left for school in a couple of weeks, I wouldn't be seeing him at the car shows any more.

My mouth suddenly went dry; I needed something to drink. "Mom," I said, turning to find her. She had both my little brother's hands in her own, and she was berating him for touching the cars. Again. "Mom, I need something to drink."

"Okay." She let go of my brother, but he held his arms up just as if she still clutched them. Mom reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She took out a five-dollar bill and offered it to me, but didn't move. I crossed the space to her and grabbed it.

A few yards away, behind a barrier of trash cans and yellow tape to keep the greasy food away from the pristine cars, sat the concession stands. I thought about nonchalantly trying to buy a beer but decided on fresh lemonade instead. I paid and waited for the girl in the stall to make it for me. When she finished, I took the glass and turned.

He stood right there, and I nearly walked right into his broad chest.

"Hola, chica," he said, smiling down at me.

My breath hitched.

"I'm Eddie."

"Nora," I said through a tight throat.

"I seen you at some other shows, and I saw you checkin' out my ride earlier. You wanna look at it up close?"

I wasn't certain if that was his pick-up line or if he was serious. I didn't care. I certainly did want to see something up close, but it wasn't his truck. "I'd love to take a look," I told him.

I followed him back to the truck, and he opened up the back. "Custom interior," he said. I eyed the blood red carpet, red and pearl vinyl padded sides, and velvet headliner. He'd certainly put a lot of work into the car. Eddie led me around the truck, pointing out his rims, the paint job, what he had under the hood. I smiled, nodded, and sipped my lemonade.

"Now you gotta hear the sound system," Eddie told me. He opened the passenger door and told me to climb in. Then he went around to the driver side and sat down.

The interior of the car seemed hotter than it should, and I wondered if my proximity to Eddie caused it or if the sun overhead was the culprit. He turned on the stereo and some fast-paced, Latin-style music with horns filled the cab. I felt my body want to move with the music. I imagined Eddie beneath me as I writhed to the beat.

"It has its own power source, so I don't drain the battery. It can play all night, just like me." Eddie looked at me with a lopsided grin. "Listen, I don't usually do this..."

"Neither do I," I said; I set down my lemonade on the floor and grabbed his hand. I pulled him between the passenger and driver seat and into the back of the truck. Drapes hung against the back of the seats, and I closed them, blocking off anyone's view through windshield.

We fell in a tumble on the red carpet in the back of the truck. Heat and music swam around us as I started to unbutton his mechanic's shirt. No hair marred his chest, the smooth skin taught and warm beneath my hands. His nipples stood out dark and brown, and as I parted his shirt, I leaned down to lick one, then the other. Eddie moaned, and I smiled against his flesh. Even just this little tease already had me wet.

"Take off your dress," Eddie told me. I kneeled over him and pulled the dress over my head. Beneath it, I only wore a tiny pair of cotton panties. I slipped off my sandals too, and I could tell Eddie liked what he saw.

"Ay dios mio," he said, and he brought his hands up to cup my breasts, running his calloused palms over their quickly hardening tips. "You are beautiful."

I smiled down at him, then leaned over and brushed my lips against his. He lured me into a feverish kiss, ravaging my lips with his own, bushing his tongue into my mouth and teasing me with it. His hands ran around my sides and down my back; he dug his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, and pushed them down, revealing my ass. He grabbed both sides and kneaded. Against my thigh, I could feel his cock straining to be free. That was what I wanted to see up close. I pushed up and started working the button fly of his 501s. I shoved them down his hips. He wore pristine tighty-whities beneath, and I smiled again. The firm ridge of his cock showed clear through the thin fabric. He looked huge. My mouth watered. I wanted to taste the dick. I yanked the underwear down, too, and his cock came out, standing at attention. A pearly bead of precum glistened at the tip. I leaned over and licked it.

Eddie moaned again and twitched. I wrapped one hand around the shaft of his prick and took the tip in my mouth, swirling my tongue around its swollen head. He tasted salty and rich, and I wanted more of him. I removed my hand and took as much of him into my mouth as I could. I bobbed my head up and down his length: sucking, licking, swirling...

Eddie's hands found my tits again and pinched both of them, shooting a jolt of arousal to my already-soaking cunt. I sighed around his prick, and he sighed too.

"I want you inside me," I said at nearly the same time that Eddie breathed out, "I want inside you."

I got off him and nearly ripped my panties away as he kicked off his Chuck Taylors and Levis. He fished a wallet out of the pocket of his discarded pants, and out of that came a condom. Thank God, he was a responsible boy, because I would have probably jumped him regardless. He slipped it on, lay back down on the carpet, and beckoned me with a Bruce Lee come-and-get-it wave of his fingers. I crawled on top of him, kneeled on either side of his hips, and lowered myself down. I didn't even need to use my hands. His cock found home like it belonged there, like a homing pigeon or a migratory whale after a long journey.

My pussy slid down his length until he filled me. I braced my hands on his chest, feeling his tight nipples beneath my palms. It took me a moment to get used to his size. My core seemed to ache with it. Sweat broke out on my brow and dribbled between my breasts. It had to be a hundred degrees inside the truck, but with the windowless sides, the vibrant music, and my desire, Eddie and I seemed to be the only people in the world, and if this was what the world was, then it was exactly how I wanted it.

Eddie ran his hands up and down my sides then grabbed my hips. I started moving, raising and then lowering myself along his cock. He kept a strong grip on one hip, but moved his other hand around to brush my clit, his fingers moving through our tangled pubic hair. I gasped when he touched me, and it spurred me on.

I knew all about the after-market suspension system Eddie had installed; he made a point of describing it in great detail. Whatever we did in here, the truck would not rock.

Eddie let go of my hip and brought that hand to one of my breasts. He pinched the nipple. His finger on my clit grew more insistent.

"I'm so close," he said. "Come first, chica."

I increased my efforts. Sweat dripped onto Eddie's chest, but he didn't seem to mind. His own face was shiny with it, his chest slick beneath my palms. With another tweak to my nipple and tease at my clit, Eddie triggered the first waves of my orgasm. My muscles tensed as all my energy seemed to gather at my cunt, then shoot out through my body. I threw my head back and moaned, long and low, clearly audible over the music. Eddie began to buck beneath me, too, and soon went rigid, his hips lifting beneath me, carrying me toward the roof of the vehicle. His cock twitched inside me as he exhaled through clamped teeth. Finally, he relaxed, and I climbed off.

I didn't know what to expect now; I certainly didn't think he'd take me into his arms and kiss my sweaty forehead the way he did. It was tender, almost too much for me. We lay there in the heat for some moments, the music filling the air around us. Then I pushed myself away, got dressed, and opened the back of the truck to slip out. Eddie watched me, not moving for his clothes.

"Thanks," I said.

"De nada," he replied, smiling. "I'll be at Cruising Night, first Saturday in August."

I smiled back and climbed out the truck.


I'd leave for college on Sunday. On my last day in town, you'd think I'd want to do some last minute shopping, make sure my old Honda Accord was packed, and sit down at the computer to register for my classes. I had friends to say goodbye to also.

But instead, I found myself out at Cruise Night, standing in front of the old drive in on Main Street, walking the rows of vintage cars with Daddy, looking for Eddie and his panel truck. Let Daddy think the whole night had been spawned by some desire for last-minute parental bonding. But that wasn't it at all. All I wanted was Eddie.

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