The Triumphs of the Past Ch. 05

There is something of a feeling of exquisite comfort for the man to slip his erect penis into a woman's vagina (to use medical terminology) even disregarding, if you can, the sexual aspect and prospect of orgasmic release of seminal fluid and spermatozoa. There is something simply comfortable about the act of penetration rather like, or, perhaps, it is not such a close analogy, slipping one's feet into a pair of old slippers. Woman and girls found a very similar experience in getting into and settling down into the old sprung leather of the passenger seat of the Triumph 2500 and gazing out over the long bonnet.

To return to the analogy, once firmly lodged inside the warm comfortable interior it was unlikely they would withdraw from the car without the experience of orgasm if the journey was long enough.

My increasing surprise and pleasure in finding just what a babe magnet the Triumph was, led to unexpected sexual adventures, sometimes with quite young women, other times more mature. The opportunities with women my own age seemed less frequent, perhaps they were too busy with children to come and talk to a middle-aged mechanic however polished and attractive his car might appear. It was the older... and the younger.

It was not just me who noticed this phenomenon. At one show, next to me in the field, I recall an old geezer with plenty of miles on his clock standing looking daggers at me because of all those women around my 2500S particularly the one you could say was sporting a fine pair of 'Sabrinas.' His Rover P4 just didn't seem to be attracting the same sort of attention, despite the interest of the Straight Six engine and the leather bench seat. I liked the 'wood-and-leather-with-a vengeance' style. It was the archetypal bank manager's motor of the day and he certainly kept the car well. I thought he could use that bench seat to good effect, if only the 'babes' asked for a 'ride,' and it had that sort of gear lever and knob Jane seemed to like. We got chatting later and what he didn't know about old motors struck me as not worth knowing. He liked the 2500S, sat in it and even noted how pristine the gear knob looked, though he thought I should recover the seats. 'Bit stained,' he said, and it was obvious he knew why.

Older and younger babes indeed. Let's start with the younger.

Eighteen years old -- she was that young, even younger than Heulwen. It made me feel really awful -- well, not really! I was going north, mentioned it to a friend and found myself agreeing to take his daughter back to uni. as a passenger in January. The Triumph is an estate and has plenty of room in the back, and that was really why he suggested me taking her back, knowing the vehicle -- but not as well as he thought -- had the space. A nice, intelligent, bubbly sort of girl, freckles like Heulwen but there the resemblance ended. Tall, not far off six foot, a bit too tall for a girl really. Freckles not uncommon with red or auburn hair and she had that, straight and long.

It was cold outside, snow piled up either side of the roads. No more snow was forecast so it was not foolish to travel, but across the countryside a winter wonderland or at least the appearance of it from a warm car. A warm car with a particular and unusual influence upon women and one I could see was gradually affecting young Eleanor. A certain flush to her face and the occasional movement of her bottom upon the leather seat. It amused me. The T2500S was up to his tricks again. I glanced down at the gear stick. Erect as always and with the overdrive in the 'on' position. Always when I touched that I now thought of Heulwen's little button sliding over it, hard and rough on her clit.

Eleanor was no better after a visit to a service station for coffee and necessary relief. Has she perhaps fingered herself in the 'Ladies' a bit, somewhat sordid really, but had she been surprised at how wet she was -- if, indeed, she was wet and I rather thought she was very much in just that so pleasing feminine state.

A few miles further on and a sigh, a swallowing.

"You all right, Eli?"

"Yes," it came out as rather a squeak.

Obvious she was just so aroused. Another wriggle on the seat revealed half an inch of white thigh twixt skirt and long sock. I had not realised -- and why should I -- that under her thick woollen skirt she was wearing were not thick black tights but socks that went up beyond her knees. A particular favourite of mine. I am not one for nylons and suspender belts but, rather like Fiona's long white leather boots, I have a 'thing' about long woollen socks for women whether under skirts or worn without anything else. My thing -- it's what I like. And that glimpse of young white thigh was very pleasing. But eyes on the road.

"It's very warm in here."

I didn't think so, but turned the heating off. A few miles further on she turned it on again. It had got rather chilly. A few miles further on and she was really wriggling in her seat.

"Eric, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, Eli, not at the moment."

"What do you do for sex?"

I glanced at her, "what do you do?" I rather thought the question best answered by her first of all. The journey was becoming rather interesting.

"I had a boyfriend, but we broke up so... and, so, well, you know..."

A quick turn towards her and a raising of eyebrows.

"You know... fingers." She had said it. Just like that. Excellent. The idea in my mind so pleasing.

"And very nice and effective I'm sure. Good to know your own body and what you like. Nice to be able to relax all cosy in bed..."

"You wank then?"

That was quite direct. "All men do, I'm sure. Some more than others. And I have a lady friend, we're not going out, but she helps me out sometimes and I help her." Almost true, I had merely said the singular whereas it should have been 'ladies' plural. "But other times..."

"So, you do wank. Have you a foreskin?"

"Last time I looked, yes!"

"Gerard doesn't."

"Gerard?"

"My ex. I expect it's different with one."

"I expect so too, but I've only wanked the one -- mine."

"Can I wank you? Would you like me to?"

Three cheers for the Triumph, his engine purring away in front of me. The prospect of this delightful young, and she was young, redhead manipulating my penis suddenly in view and, no doubt, me returning the compliment. It was obvious, so obvious, she need fingers at work -- mine or at least hers.

"Eli, it seems," I glanced significantly at her moving knees and not to be outdone by her rather forward words, "you need to frig yourself. Go on, it's nice and warm in here, pull your knickers down and get those fingers working. I'll concentrate on the driving. You just go on -- you need it, I can see. A nice thing to do, especially with the warm air blowing up from the footwell at your..." A bit matter of fact, a bit basic, not a hint of a question from me, or her for that matter, as to quite why she was in that state. Just a logical development of her questioning. Well, sort of, anyway.

Eyes on the road. Eyes on the road but, not easy not to glance, not easy to watch her hand making her skirt move, not easy to avoid taking a great deal of interest in rather more of her white thighs exposed above those long, long socks.

"Can I get you out?"

"Not much I can do to stop you. I've got to keep my hands on the wheel." She was aroused, really aroused. On heat even. Was it perhaps that special day, that ovulation day when women can be at their most sexual? Had the car caught her just right? Difficult really to fight her off whilst driving. I would have to pull off the motorway onto the hard shoulder -- but I hardly wanted to stop her, not at all!

Young fingers reaching, young wet fingers tugging down my zip, such delicious anticipation for me, young fingers entering and extracting, bringing me out into the open.

"Mmmm yummy, big."

Well, good to hear a compliment but perhaps a bit generous. Still, Gerard might be rather small! She was looking at me and then down at my penis with sparkling eyes. This was perhaps a good opportunity to find somewhere to stop the car. A big blue sign went by revealing four miles to the next junction -- or five to a service area.

"It moves."

Foreskins do that, and she was tugging away both at speed and irregularly.

"Yes, but slower and steadier. Go for rhythm." You have to teach these young girls you know! Her right hand on my cock, left up her skirt. Another mile went by.

"I want to see it all." Both hands undoing my belt, opening my trousers, tugging the whole assembly up through the slit in my boxers. "Mmmm lovely, aren't balls so sexy?"

I didn't know about that. They were certainly rather important to the sexual act... or acts for that matter.

"Who'd be a lezzie, with a handful of these and that?"

Well, me for one -- if I was a woman! Handfuls of girls for me please!

Three miles to go.

"I want to fuck."

I glanced at her. She was rather red in the face, her eyes moist and sparkling -- and no doubt something else was more than moist, though I did not know about 'sparkling.' A girl in heat certainly. "I want it inside me."

"You on the Pill or something?"

A scowl, "No, nothing. Me and Gerard..."

I winced, "Gerard and I," came straight out. What was it with these young people putting themselves first? "Condoms?"

"Yes."

"Any in your bag?"

I could see her shaking her head. Well, there were none in the glovebox either, nor my pocket.

A real groan from her. "Eric, I'm so wet. I want your prick."

She certainly had it. In her right hand. All of a sudden her hand was withdrawn and clearly heading back under her skirt.

"No, Eli, wipe your hand on my handkerchief first. You don't want any of my leaking sperm getting where it shouldn't." I fished in my pocket. Big, blue and spotted, fresh from my chest of drawers that morning. Still folded.

A bit of a look from her, but she did as I asked before spending the next two miles which at 75mph was less than two minutes, frigging away under her skirt. I elected to leave at the junction. Service areas tended to be pretty crowded, but would I find anywhere near the junction to park before Eli came, with the risk she would lose interest in what was sticking up from my trousers. Was it sticking up! I was rather hoping to get my hand up that skirt and touch the bare flesh above her socks -- and rather more.

Indicator going, I turned the wheel and we crossed the dashes into the de-acceleration lane of the junction and just as we did that, with my eyes concentrating on the road and glancing up at the rear-view mirror, Eli leaned over and took my 'peeled' cock into her mouth. Wonderful, so hot and wet and to have this lovely red head teen just do that, her auburn hair there in my lap as I braked. "Not now, Eli, I'm slowing and there's cars next to us."

She sat up and I slowed to a stop at the junction behind one other car waiting to go onto the roundabout. I looked to my right. A Land Rover Discovery with a rather fine-looking woman in the passenger seat. Possibly, from her higher level, if she looked down, she would see my exposed erection, but she was looking straight ahead. The car ahead of me moved and I reached the roundabout. It was busy and I could not get straight on. Beside me now a Ford Focus with another woman sitting in the passenger seat, a young woman with a man driving, probably her husband. She was looking at me but with no idea I was sitting there with my trousers open and, surrounded by white cotton with big blue spots (I have a bit of a taste for snazzy underwear -- when I wear it), was my very exposed and erect penis -- peeled and with the knob wet, fresh from Eli's mouth.

A relief to be on the roundabout but it was not one of those junctions in the middle of nowhere leading off into the countryside but very much a suburban location. Without quite a drive it was not going to be a nice little stop in a country lane as I had done with Jane and Heulwen in the past. The sight of a 'To Let' sign made me indicate left and we drove into the deserted yard of a modern factory building. Not a pretty location but devoid of people and cars. We could be private enough. I reversed in against the building and stopped the engine and turned to Eli. I could now give her my full attention. I reached and began pulling up her jumper, anxious, having the opportunity, to see and feel her breasts. She did nothing to stop me, indeed her hand kept moving under her skirt, as I undid the buttons of her blouse, nor did she stop me when my hand cupped over the warm material of her brassiere.

"I'm going to come, I'm going to come, just when you touch my nipples."

My fingers slid under the edge of her brassiere and over the warm softness of her young breasts, her little nipple hard in the palm.

"Almost, almost..." and she was down in my lap again. Quite remarkable her enthusiasm. Not driving I could look down at her bobbing head and at the movement within her skirt -- and move my hand within her brassiere. Wonderful.

"I'm not... I can't... please... fuck me."

I wasn't going to without 'protection.' I reached and pulled her hand from under her skirt and took over 'operations.' Marvellous to see and touch the join of bare flesh to woollen sock, and then to freely slide my hand upwards feeling her warmth and then her liquidity. What would my friend, her father, have thought -- of me? So good to feel her curls -- probably ginger like her head -- and then her soft lips and all the other lovely bits girls have. Fingers in her, thumb on her clit and my other hand stroking away within her brassiere, I made her come. I forced her into orgasm! So good to see her panting, wide eyed and just quivering with sexual release. A girl quite out of control.

"Again, please, again."

I could have done anything with her. She was so far gone in arousal. I made her -- well asked her -- to undo her seat belt, swivel around to face me, bring her feet and knees up and sit with thighs apart so I could see 'everything.' So ginger, such wonderfully springy curls of copper wire surrounding her young sex. Fleshy lips, delightfully crinkly and her vagina showing dark and open, a cavern I would so like to have sent my penis in to explore but I could not risk what it would do and where all those naughty little spermatozoa would go exploring, swimming away and searching for a certain goal. I could not risk that. But good, very good, to this time watch my fingers touch and explore. A visual feast indeed. Seeing my fingers inside her and to feel her tight channel -- insufficient room for the Triumph's knob certainly, though enough for me! And, to see Eli undo her brassiere and play with her breasts.

And she came again, right there in that empty service yard. I could see her vagina opening and closing upon my fingers as she did so, could imagine what that'd feel like on my penis. I was torn between watching that and her face. Such a sight, a young woman having an orgasm.

She sat there looking dazed and blinking

"I need your prick in me," she said, almost matter of factly, and she made as if to come across, her open exposed sex being pushed towards me, framed by her woollen skirt. The thought of having that hot, slippery slidey tight little sheath around my cock so enticing. And it was so close.

I swallowed, "Not today, Eli, not without..."

She pouted -- and then her tongue came out and went slowly around her lips. Feminine wiles indeed! It certainly made my penis twitch.

"No! We can't. Really, we shouldn't."

Such a pout and then such a scowl coupled with a shrug of her shoulders -- and a wink. Both hands came across to my cock and played. What could be better -- a young girl wanting to and playing with your cock? If she sucks it of course! And she did -- again. As she sucked, I continued to play inside her skirt, fingers inside her, thumb to her clit, as she wriggled and moaned.

"I'm going to again -- I really am -- I've never..." Down went her head again. "Come with me. Come when I come, fill my mouth up, really fill it. I'm going to come and I'm going to make you come."

Nobody in that big empty expanse of concrete to disturb that remarkable little scene. Did I want to fuck that sexually out of control little redheaded bundle of young girl? Did I! But she did what she said. As I pushed my fingers the harder and flicked away, she made me cum. Hot spurts, well it certainly felt hot enough rushing up my penis, into her mouth, her so mobile mouth, lips and tongue as she made girl orgasm noises.

And she did it so right. Letting me subside in her mouth and then sitting up and showing me that I had indeed filled her mouth. What dubious videos had she been watching? Showing me it on her tongue, glossing her lips with it and then swallowing.

All of a bit of a steamy experience. Knickers back on, skirt smoothed down, boobs and penis tucked away, we drove back out of the yard, onto the road and thence to the roundabout and slip road to the motorway.

"Three orgasms for you, Eli, one for me. You owe me!"

At our destination Eli said, "I don't know what came over me. You could have... I would have..."

"If you, at the end of term, want a lift back from Uni..." I knew what I could have done but prudence had kept me in check. Good old Prudence!

"Perhaps," she said, "I'll be on the Pill then. How weird, to... with one of my Dad's friends. What... we did... it was so really nice though. Maybe... it'd be kind of," she shrugged her shoulders, "well, cool. I liked our ride and our chat and... I wouldn't want you to see it as payment for the lift."

I waved my hands, "no, no, my pleasure. Happy to give you a lift, without..." I left her in her room and walked down the stairs to my car. There it was, sitting there, big grin to its front. I raised my fingers casually towards my nose. Still there the scent of young girl. That had been rather good: hopefully I could not only offer but, indeed, give her a lift back at the end of term. I'd have to let her Dad know I was going to be up that way a little before term ended and casually make the offer that I could pick her up -- without appearing too eager. Having sex with one of my friends' daughters. Dear oh dear! I'd be livid if it was one of my own -- but I didn't have any daughters. I paused at the door of my car and thought of Jane and her swelling tummy, well, not yet anyway.

So, a rather pleasing little experience with a young girl all courtesy of the Triumph -- it certainly seemed to be down to the car -- and the possibility of more with her another day: but what of the mature women? I was pleasantly surprised at a show in the Spring to find the mature woman, I had seen before, come up to me and the car. She was that nicely spoken woman with greying hair and had a blue two-piece skirted suit on at the time before. She was in a green tweed suit this time and with her husband again, a big burly bloke as I described with a very memorable moustache. She had been keen on the car and had sat in the driver's seat fondling, yes, that gear knob. I had not forgotten her, nor her words, "I wouldn't mind a ride in this." She, clearly, had not forgotten me -- or at least the car.

"Oh, look, Derek, it's that yellow Triumph 2000 again."

'2500' I said automatically but then said how good it was to see them again. How had they been, what was their interest in Triumphs and classic cars & etc. Not actually Triumph people, more Morris Garages and why not? Nonetheless another opportunity to look at her thighs as her skirt was drawn up as she sat again in the driver's seat. I hoped Derek did not notice the flash of my eyes downwards. Not really done to eye up another man's wife -- so that he knows, anyway.

Once seated she seemed disinclined to get out again and I talked cars with Derek and was a little surprised at just how many MGs he had. A wealthy man clearly. They came back again later in the day and I found myself taking afternoon tea with them in the refreshment tent (nice cake as well) and I got invited to visit for a weekend. And it proved to be a genuine, actually meant, invitation, when Maddie telephoned me and invited me for a weekend.