The Triumphs of the Past Ch. 04

The frostiness with Jane after the garage incident seemed to have thawed. Relations warmed following on from that drive when I had taken her to deliver and collect: indeed, 'taken her' was the phrase, remembering how she had grasped those two young saplings whilst we coupled. I was not going to forget that in a hurry. I made a point of dropping in on her sometimes on the way back from the workshop. After all, I had no one to go home to, I could delay my dinner and have a cup of tea and a chat.

The week after the picnic with Fiona and the girls, I popped in to see Jane, but she was just on the way out to the supermarket - at the door of her house in fact. I had planned to go too after seeing her, so we went together and as the engine of the T2500 was warm and there, it was pointless Jane getting the Morris Traveller from the garage. A slightly incongruous couple going around the shelves at the supermarket. Jane in a very neat blue pleated skirt, white blouse and red jacket, me with rather obviously oil stained hands in some equally grubby dark blue overalls. Two trolleys though, one for her shopping, one for mine.

On the way back, Jane said, "You know..." there was a pause. She started again, "You remember..."

We drove on through two sets of traffic lights and a roundabout, before she finished her sentence. What was Jane about to say? It sounded like it was important, but she was having trouble saying it. "That time when... you saw me having sex with... if you can put it like that..." Her fingers touched the gear knob, her forefinger stroking the overdrive switch.

"Yes," I said, "pretty unforgettable. So sexual, so sexy."

She made a disparaging noise. "I've been wondering... thinking a lot about it lately. What would it be like with the engine running?" A pause, "Funny thing to think about, but it's become stuck in my mind. Wouldn't have mentioned it normally, but it's so in my mind now." Jane grasped and held, feeling the vibrations from that not very good gear box. "Shouldn't really, but perhaps you understand. You saw me, you... I wanted you to... I wanted to see you come." She was shaking her head, "It's not like me. Not that I wasn't... that I didn't with Rob. Yes, we did things... but, I'd never have, not, with someone watching, nor asked... You don't feel bad about me?"

"Jane, hardly. It's not as if I don't... and I did like it in that wood when we stopped."

Her eyes dropped, "yes, that was nice," she said in a small voice.

"So, if you want to with the engine running, why not. Not in the enclosed garage though, CO poisoning. Not a good idea for us to be found like that..."

"Us?"

"You don't want to ride just the one knob I hope."

Jane smiled, "well if I am to borrow your car's knob, I suppose there is no reason you shouldn't borrow my..."

No reason that I could see. Such a shame, in reality, there wasn't one particular and very good reason, as I would really have liked my old friend, Rob, to still be around. I smiled to myself, nice if he'd invited me to share Jane a bit with him, and really nice if we had been fitting a naked Jane onto that gear knob as it vibrated - a lot better than marrying four stroke pistons or axles to wheels! A job for a sex mechanic - or mechanics - indeed.

"Can't at my garage either. Someone might walk in through the open doors. We need to drive to somewhere deserted and private and leave the engine running."

"Silly really. Why don't I just take advantage of your prick and forget about the gear lever and ask you to stay the night?"

A pause and then I suggested, "Why not do both?"

And the outcome? I didn't sleep at home that night. But I get ahead of myself. I was more than happy to plan for the other alternative. Somewhere private, not at all public, I rather wanted to see Jane doing the act again, wanted her naked, not all hidden within a dress or skirt. So where could I take her in the open air where she would feel safe to be naked, and so would I, for that matter.

"I'll make us some supper," Jane said when we got back from the supermarket whilst I was helping her unpack, putting my own chilled purchases in her 'fridge. She wrinkled her nose, "You are a bit oily and I'm not having you sitting on my sofa in those. Go and have a bath and I'll find you some of Rob's old things to wear." A slight tightening of her features. She had not got over losing Rob - and why should she, indeed? Nor had I.

Rather nice to be sitting in the hot bath and to hear a knock and see the door open. Jane brought in a towel and a pair of shorts and a tee shirt.

"Here you are."

But she didn't go. She sat on the stool at the side of the bath and talked. All at once she reached across and picked up the bar of soap, dipped her hands in the water and began to wash me. Soapy hands to my back, to my chest.

"Raise your arms," as my arms and armpits were washed.

Being washed like that had not happened since I was a small boy being washed by my mother. There was no need to scrub my knees, though, as she had done all those years before.. Not this time anyway. Just like playing football you get dirty knees dealing with cars in a workshop, kneeling and generally grovelling around on the floor whilst working on brakes, suspensions, transmissions, bodywork... you name it, with cars jacked up & supported on axlestands at waist height.

"Stand up."

This was going to be the best bit, though it had been nice to be attended to in any case. A favourite wanking fantasy for me had always been me being the guest of some Arabian prince and being assigned a pair of young girls to attend to my every need. Two veiled beauties, one an Arabic wet dream with Kohl around her eyes and the other a tall Nubian girl, both attending me not just at my bath but in the rose scented water along with me. It was not quite like that. Jane was much more mature than my two girls, was not dressed in silk, or undressed indeed - or in the bath! It was very nice though.

I stood and had the pleasure of a soapy hand not just washing but slipping soapily up and down my now engorged shaft as the other hand moved across my buttock and into the crack of my bottom, gently rubbing the soap around my anus.

"Rinse," said Jane, a little huskily I thought, "I don't like the taste of soap."

I lowered myself into the water, wriggled and was standing again in a trice, my very firm cock pointing in Jane's direction. I was about to be sucked. I had known what she meant! Quite something to see her looking with such fascination at my penis. This was not just an offer to be nice to me: Jane clearly wanted to suck cock. Her hand came up and fondled my balls all slack from the bath, and then she leant towards me, nothing hurried, a gradual motion and a slow opening of the mouth. So tentative, as if about to savour the taste of some exotic fruit - my plum indeed! The anticipation of her mouth getting closer almost better than the touch for me. And then the touch and the absorption.

I stood there in the bath as Jane slid her lips back and forth like a vagina. Her eyes were closed and she was totally absorbed in what she was doing. It was lovely. But lovely meant, after a time, I had to warn Jane:

"I'm close Jane."

She sat up with a sigh. "Pity I could just suck and suck... but we don't want to waste what's in here," a squeeze to my low hanging balls, "do we? I want you all firm in bed after supper. Just one more suck..."

And she did it again and nearly received what she both wanted and didn't want.

"I'll see you downstairs."

I stood there looking at my reflection in the mirror. Had Rob stood there like that after Jane had sucked him off in the bath, had he watched his penis droop as it dripped? Mine wasn't drooping, though there was something of a drip... I hadn't come. That would be later - in his bed and in his wife. I shrugged. Things move on and wasn't I the lucky one? Rob had had his lovely Jane, but I also was having Heulwen and, at least, had had Fiona. I reached and gently wanked. I was certainly enjoying how busy my cock had become.

Sexual intercourse was good with Jane. A pleasure to copulate in the comfort of a bed and do it all over again before breakfast. I had come up behind her as she had looked out of her window in the morning and pressed my hard penis into her bottom crack as I looked over her shoulder. She was looking down at the yellow Triumph parked outside, the early morning sun showing off its chrome, was unresisting as my hands reached around and lifted her breasts. It had led seamlessly to copulation, once more.

Breakfasted I set off back to work, stopping off at home on the way to drop off those groceries. In prospect, more sexual enjoyment with Jane as I had arranged to pick her up on the Friday after lunch for a drive in the country and to have another go on that gear knob - as you do...

"Did I really?" Her first words to me on that Friday, "You must think so badly of me for suggesting such a thing." But then her eyes caught the saffron paintwork behind me as I stood at her front door. Remarkable to see the sudden change in manner, I stood a little to the side quite amazed at what appeared to be a look of lust on her face and in her eyes - and she was not looking at me. "I wasn't... but..." She actually walked past me and up to the T2500S and touched the paintwork. "It is very big," she said, looking through the window. She turned back to me, "Perhaps it is a good day for a drive. I'll get ready."

Jane descended the stairs in a knee length skirt with plentiful material, a belt and a really pretty, pleated floral blouse together with a string of pearls around her neck. A pleasing, smart and well-chosen outfit for a fifty-year old woman. Was that skirt really just the same yellow (a mixture of yellow and white in a pattern actually) as the saffron paintwork of the Triumph? Jane looked fine and sexy to me, especially when she said that she could not recall having gone out of the house before without either brassiere or knickers. "They seem a trifle unnecessary!"

I had to agree, as I admired her breasts wobbling under her blouse, delightfully unrestrained, the points of her nipples showing. She put her bag on the back seat of the Triumph, settled into the passenger seat and we were off. Out in the country Jane stretched and her fingers brushed over the gear knob. We had been talking generally but a certain focus crept into her conversation.

"It is silly but... do you have any similar, kinks I suppose you'd call them. I wouldn't have thought I had. What's the word they use - vanilla? I'd have thought myself rather vanilla in outlook on sex. Not quite an on my back and think of England type but... Do you have any?"

"Kinks?" I had certainly developed an appreciation of young women in thigh length white leather boots after my visit to Fiona's house. "Not really with cars. I'm very into cars but I can't say in a sexual way. I mean, Jane, the gear lever is obviously phallic but where is obviously, um, vaginal? Where could I get intimate. I suppose I could rub my cock on the engine warmed smooth paintwork of the bonnet."

"I'd like to see that," she laughed.

But I wasn't going to do that, not with the T2500S: he seemed too male for me. I was not going to have sexual relations with a bloke even if he was a car! Perhaps the Morris Traveller, if Jane asked nicely - and spread herself across the bonnet for me to be rather more, um, vaginal afterwards.

Somewhat distracting to have Jane fingering, in a most suggestive way, the Triumph's shiny gear knob. Even better when she slowly drew the yellow skirt up her thighs. So good to see light brown curls peeking out, the skirt not drawn up high enough to see anything more than just a hint of curls but so suggestive of the delights still hidden. Of course, I was hard, and she was being rather bad by distracting the driver.

"I'm getting rather worked up just thinking about it. I glanced again and saw a hand now on her inner thigh. I looked straight back at the road in front but not before my eyes had focused back on the gear stick. In top gear and overdrive there was not a hint of vibration but being directly linked to the gear box, rather than the car's body, I knew if she was to mount it as we drove then if she was to so much as pull it in any direction other than in the middle of its top-gear position, the gearbox selector-fork would be running on the rotating mainshaft hub and this could well impart some pretty sizeable sensations to her suitably quivering quim. Some rather impressive vibrations knocking around at her wet, fleshy lips and deep up inside her. I wondered what bumps in the road might do to her - perhaps even bring her off! And what if her perhaps wild orgasmic movements caused the car to jump out of gear, leaving it moving excitedly in neutral? Mayhem on her part, perhaps.

Interesting speculation...well for a mechanic with rather an obsessive interest in gearboxes and all things mechanical... and female pudenda.

Jane had raised the subject of my own kinks but throbbing gear knobs and, indeed, penile shaped vibrators had not been within my experience. Rather more for the ladies. Hmmm? Did, perhaps, Jane have a vibrator? I rather doubted it, but the idea of her stroking my penis with it, perhaps freshly wet from her or clasping it and me in her hand so the sensations were transmitted all along my length would be, at least, interesting.

Overtaking a rather sedate VW Golf, I imagined Jane strapping me to the Triumph's gear lever - quite a contortion for me - and letting me feel the vagaries of the gear stick as she drove, flicking both the end of my knob and the gear knob switch as she moved into overdrive. Tightly gaffer taped and unable to escape. Not very safe on the public road, unbelievably embarrassing to be stopped by the police with me naked and bound to the gear lever.

'Allo, allo, allo, what have we here then?'

Better to imagine the race track. Heulwen racing Jane but with Paul similarly strapped to her car - whatever that mightt be. Fast gear changes, firm feminine hands grasping our respective erections ultimately causing major semen leakages at, perhaps, 100mph.

Another glance at Jane, fingers were clearly 'in' and easing her, both lubricating her and ensuring the female part of the male/female coupling would be the right gauge to accept the male. I rather hoped Jane would be happy to accept my own 'screw thread' after she had enjoyed the gear knob. Driving along with a full erection, I very much wanted to couple and come.

We turned off, down a country lane and then onto a track leading to a little car parking area. As I had hoped, ours was the only car there. A view out over the countryside to the front, as the land dropped away, and, to the rear, a good view up the track to see if another car was coming down it. I had done my homework well. We could not actually drive whilst Jane amused herself on the gear lever but the engine could certainly be running. A safe environment for her kink.

"Well, Jane, here we are."

"So, we are. Lovely view."

"Certainly is," I was looking at the peeking curls. "Do you still want to..."

"Oh yes! I think I've made myself open enough. Do you want to feel?"

"May I? Perhaps a little check..."

"Of course, Eric."

How good was that, just reaching across, putting my fingers together and pushing up between her open thighs inside her skirt. Jane was delightfully wet - hot, wet, squelchy even and very open - ready for coitus with penis or the flared chrome and plastic of a T2500S gear knob.

"Do you want me to check a bit more with my feeler gauge?"

"Your what?"

"My penis."

"Well I suppose we'd better. Be sensible and it's not as if it's not going in... later. Is it?"!

I had hoped, and that was certainly confirmation. I got out, walked around to the passenger door, opened the door, Jane got out, I pushed the seat back as far as it would go, unzipped, got it out and sat. Jane got back in facing me, pulled her skirts out of the way and lowered herself, lifting and pointing my cock where it needed to go. And it went in very easily. Jane lifted and lowered herself a few times.

"That seems to work. Nice to have a fuck isn't it?" A bit crude for Jane. "But that's not what we're here for is it? Time for the big event... I hope."

Uncoupling, Jane got out of the car, and then I got out and walked around the car - good the parking area was empty, my wet erection was sticking out of my jeans - and back into the driver's seat. I wanted to be able to give Jane some revs. at appropriate moments. Not exactly the spontaneous love making of a young couple in the back seat of a car, all much more involved, requiring co-ordinated actions and very deliberate movements. Me squeezing over towards the door as Jane placed one knee on my seat and one on hers, opening her thighs to the gear knob below. I restarted the engine. And then came the lowering of her hips down onto the knob. She had done it before but, even so, it was a large item to accommodate.

I watched the concentration on her face, her eyes were closed as she pushed down, seeking to take it in. A lot easier, I supposed, had the knob been rounded like a penis, not rather flat and with the overdrive switch. But a gasp, the sudden opening of eyes, indicated success. I reached and felt, running my fingers up the long metal rod - and that was all I could feel, the knob had been absorbed. Through the rod I could feel the engine's throb. I raised the revs.

"Fuck, Eric, this is quite something."

I dropped the revs. and then pushed the accelerator pedal again.

"Oooh!" She grabbed for my penis and held it.

"I wonder, I said, if we could move the car like this. I should have parked the other way around so you could move the gear lever to first, but we need reverse."

"Do you think?"

"I'll depress the clutch and you put it in reverse. Over to me and then you'll have to lift and bring it back. Can you grasp it with your..."

"I'll try."

And she mimicked the movement on my penis as well as the gear knob. No danger. I was driving, I was controlling whether the engine was engaged, the speed and direction of travel. Jane was just changing gear. Reverse engaged we started to go backwards. Different sensations for Jane. Not just the vibration from the engine - throbbing if you like, what a so sexual word - but movement of her body from the car's movement and that in turn meant movement on the gear knob. Around in a semi-circle and then I got Jane to engage first. And so off we went back up the track - a bumpy track indeed.

"Second please, Jane."

"Oooh, fuck, that's..." It was quite a bumpy ride. "We're not going all the way to the road, are we?"

No, we were not. I nosed into a field gate and we reversed back out and set off back to parking place."

"You have no idea how good this feels Eric. So naughty, so kinky, so, I don't know, odd. Such a big... cock."

I reached again and stroked her clit as she fucked the car. One particularly deep rut and she came with a remarkable outpouring of rather rude words. Perhaps she had learnt them at school long ago.

The car parked, into neutral and then the engine turned off, Jane began to raise herself. I could not resist lifting the yellow skirt material and watching the knob coming out. Prurient really, somewhat like - well quite like, really - watching a penis being slowly extracted from a vagina following energetic coitus in one of those late-night videos I sometimes watched on the computer. But no semen, no 'cream-pie,' the Triumph did not do that sort of thing. That was not how little cars are made! Fascinating, nonetheless. It really was a big knob. Easier to get out than in given the perfect underneath flaring, it just gently stretched Jane open wider and wider until the 'corona' and the appearance of the black plastic cap - and then it was out.