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Man on a Car
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
ARCHIVE: man-on-car.Z
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Man on a Car ----
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Some years ago, five, maybe seven, I was living with three
other men in a four bedroom house near the "Beaches" area in
Toronto. Although the "Beaches" is a trendy and expensive area,
our house was in the white trash neighborhood sandwiched between
the "trendy" Beaches and one of Toronto's chinatowns. The one
located in the Broadview/Dundas area for those of you who know
Toronto.
Anyway, we were prone to having large parties in those days,
and after a while began to have "theme" parties just to make them
that much more interesting.
One weekend we had a "Sacrifice to the Volcano God Party."
This one was a little too extravagant (but still, not as extrava-
gant as our "spoonful of shroomes" or "thunderdome" parties). We
made a paper mache Volcano which continually erupted "lava
punch". We dressed up as savages and awaited the arrival of
eager virgins so that we could sacrifice them. A number of
exotic consumables were involved in the proceedings.
At that time one of my roommates, Reed, *knew* a lot of
women, besides his steady girlfriend Anna. One of these women,
Karen, was coming to the party, which presented a dilemma for
Reed. Reed and Anna had one of these multi-year hot-cold on-
again off-again mutually destructive relationships where both
individuals sleep around while pretending not to notice the
other's infidelity. The Reed-Anna relationship recently ended
with Reed convicted of assault after breaking down some guy's
door and beating him up because he was sleeping with Anna, who
happened to be there at the time.
Anyway, I was asked to attempt to *occupy* Karen at the
party, a responsibility I was more than happy to assume. Karen
was a real looker. About 5'11'', slim, nice breasts, nice body,
nice bum. Long, and I mean long, black hair. Everything Shauna
(of alt.sex fame) would look for in a woman, if she were a man.
And, bonus, she was pleasant and bright (although these were
secondary considerations at the time).
The intriguing part, though, was her wild side.
"She's wild in bed," Reed told me.
"She's incredible," he said.
"She's got this thing about her car, eh?" he said, "she
likes to fuck on the hood. It's amazing." Karen had a white
Corvette convertible.
So I wanted her, and I wanted to take her in my "savage"
outfit on the hood of her car on some country road outside of
Toronto.
BUT, she was a wild one. And we all know that the wild ones
don't go out with "Mr. Nice Guy". They especially don't fuck
Mr. Nice Guy on the hood of their white corvette after a "Sacri-
fice to the Volcano God Party". This was a job for "Mr. Danger-
ous," I thought, as I extravagantly painted my face and body to
go with my savage outfit.
First Encounter,
----------------
My initial encounter with Karen was not auspicious. I think
it was these first, idiotic, actions on my part that put Karen in
a frame of mind for the events of much later that night.
She phoned from a booth *just around the corner*, on Queen,
for directions. When Reed heard where she was we thought of a
joke. Why don't I whip out there and steal her car while Reed
keeps her on the phone? I won't really steal the car, I'll just
s-l-o-w-l-y drive away, with her running after her car, scream-
ing! What fun!
Some of you may think of this as childish and stupid, and of
course you would be right. In fact, by this point you might
think that I, personally, am childish and stupid. Perhaps this
is true also. But then, I don't have time to worry about details
like this.
So I dashed around the corner and charged Karen's car, in my
savage outfit. Karen was at the optimum angle, looking directly
away from oncoming me and her car. It was straightforward to get
in, and her car was even running!
And then I discovered the car was occupied by one of Karen's
friends. There I was leaping into the driver's seat of an expen-
sive car, dressed as a savage from "Road Warrior", with theft my
obvious intent, with a woman sitting there in the passenger side.
Well, was there ever a lot of screaming. You never heard such
screaming. Kicking too. Even, yes, even purse swinging. This
woman had all limbs working and her vocal cords stretched to
their limit. You don't ever want to be sort of high, in a savage
outfit, pretending to steal an expensive car occupied by some
woman you don't know on Queen street at 9:00 o'clock on a Satur-
day night in Toronto.
Fortunately, I had met Karen a number of times before, and
she knew who I was. She explained me to her friend and we were
off to the party.
Second Encounter,
-----------------
It's been so long that I am fuzzy on this one. All I remem-
ber is that at some point during the party, early on in fact,
Karen and I went to get beer. We went in her car.
This was all right. Thinking about wildly screwing her on
the hood, I told her that I loved her car and could should she
please drive real fast up and down the Don Valley Parkway. (By
the way, Karen stayed straight and was OK to drive. I have this
thing about drunk/stoned drivers)
As we were driving along, and I don't think we hit the
Parkway this time round, I decided to tease her as we went. I
suggested we play a game called "distraction." She would drive
and I would "distract" her. You know, caress her thighs. Slowly
unbutton her blouse, blow in her ear, other things. You know.
Well, we didn't even start the game, as she wanted to get
back to the party. That was okay by me, this was the *initial
foray*. It was obvious, risky, and didn't meet with instant
rejection. In particular, she clearly wasn't repulsed by the
idea. More effort was required, but the potential was there.
On the Road,
------------
Karen and I got along well, we danced and talked, but noth-
ing else.
Finally, it was time to for Karen to go home. She lived in
Belleville, about 95 minutes drive from Toronto. 'Did I want to
go with her?' she asked.
Holy Fuck!?! More than an hour driving alone with Karen,
through the country, with the hood of her car dangling in front
of us, enticing, beckoning, the whole way? "I'll pack my bag!"
(Don't want to wake up in Belleville with just my savage outfit).
Off we went.
It didn't take long before we were playing "distraction". I
waited until we were well east of Oshawa, so that a country road
would be handy for imminent fucking, and then I began to tease
her.
Now, it's very awkward to tease someone driving a Corvette
on the 401, but I did my best. Things I could do easily were
nibble and blow on her ear, gentle massage of her breasts, I
teased her nipples to arousal with my fingers. I massaged her
thighs and leaned over to bite and kiss her neck, blowing warm
breath on the upper part of her chest.
This didn't last long, as soon enough, one of those roadside
pitstops came along, and we quickly parked in the most inconspic-
uous, secluded spot. Karen had a sleeping bag packed with her
traveling stuff and we promptly had it out on the grass in front
of her car. We then, as I remember it, stood there and slowly
undressed each other. I love undressing my partners. With
Karen, I started with gentle kissing and caressing of her face,
sucking lightly on her lips and then brushing her closed eyelids
with soft kisses. I bit her ears and neck gently, alternating
between a soft, caressing activity combined with gently blowing
warm breath along the sides of her neck, and rougher, quicker
paced, biting and nibbling (I do this a lot because I like it).
Don't think that my hands were idle. I held Karen close and
tight, I squeezed and caressed her tight little bum, I massaged
her breasts and gently pinched her nipples (which were more than
slightly erect at this point). I stroked her cheeks and neck
with my fingers as I kissed her. Of course, I also took off her
clothes.
In no time, Karen was naked, and so was I. Karen seemed to
have fallen, as *so many* women are wont to, into the passive
role. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back as I moved
my attention down, biting and kissing first her neck and then the
area around her collar bone. As we laid down I massaged her
breasts with my hands as I sucked and nibbled on her nipples.
"Not here," she said, opening her eyes and looking at me.
"Let's do it on the hood," she added, quite eagerly I might say.
Well alright. This would make a great story for the boys.
We regularly told each other everything, back at the house, right
down to the gory details. Karen and I moved the sleeping bag
onto the hood. Karen then went into her pack again and came up
with some nylons.
"Could you tie me up?" she asked, coyly. This was a sur-
prise, but my brain reacted with its usual lightening speed and
crystal clarity.
"What?"
"I want to be tied on my back. I'd really like it, I don't
know why but I would." Karen, slender and naked in the night
air, was awful hard to resist when she smiled awkwardly, her body
language, arms tight to her chest, showing mild embarrassment
while simultaneously radiating raw sexuality.
"Sure," I said, taking the nylons. "How are we going to do
this?" She explained that we could use the nylons to tie her arms
to the insides of the car door. As my costume was primarily long
strips of furry black cloth wrapped around hockey pads (you know,
the road warrior look), we had plenty of extra fabric to tie her
legs to the front bumper. I should mention that I was carrying
around a roll of black masking tape to keep various parts of the
costume together, as with all the sweaty dancing my home-brew
costume fell apart every hour on the hour (I don't sew, eh!).
But of course I didn't use the tape on Karen.
Woman on a Car,
---------------
It didn't take long to truss Karen up, especially as I
wasn't overly concerned with preventing her escape or some such
silliness. I bound her loosely so she had ample freedom of
movement and made sure she was comfortable on the blanket.
Party Time. Let's Rock.
I climbed on to the hood, kneeling with my legs between
hers, spread as they were, and surveyed her lush body, smiling.
I was amused. She just lay there expectantly, smiling too,
although I'm sure hers was a different type of amusement.
Having no experience with women bound spread eagled to hoods
of cars, improvisation was called for. I decided that massage
and teasing would be the best approach, so I began be massaging
her legs and thighs. Perhaps not the best place to start, but I
enjoyed the vantage point I had, kneeling, from which to view
Karen's body, her face, her body language and facial expressions.
It was really unfortunate that we had no wine that I could
pour over her body and lick off. I would have liked that.
As I massaged her thighs I decided that I would build antic-
ipation by describing things to her that I might or might or not
do. I generally dislike talking like this because my sexual
vocabulary abounds with words that seem to me to be crude and
vulgar as opposed to tempting, seductive and exotic.
"Relax, Karen" I said. "Just relax, and imagine the feeling
of my soft, warm tongue, caressing you," I whispered, slowly,
while I massaged the inside of her thighs and belly, bending to
kiss her thighs and, fleetingly, to insert my tongue gently into
her quickly moistening pussy (I hate this word). I thought about
ravaging her, taking her hard and quick, but I associate this
kind of sex with manual laborers, you know, the kind you see
doing roadside construction, muscles bulging, body glistening
with sweat. Not that fast and hard is bad, but I'm afraid I've
got a slow hand.
I kissed her thighs again and, holding my body so that it
lightly touched hers, I swept my face and chest gently along her
upper body, starting with my cheek flat against her stomach,
rubbing against her like a friendly cat, and slowly moving up
towards her neck, kissing her softly all the while and blowing
gently on her smooth tanned skin. I held my body so that my skin
touched hers lightly, wherever possible.
"Mmmmmmmmmm," I purred, as I kissed and bit her neck,
"imagine how I'd feel inside you, strong and hot." As I kissed
her neck I maneuvered my cock to the entrance to her pussy. She
was on the pill so I didn't need the obligatory condom break.
Still keeping myself so that my skin just gently touched
hers, I slowly inserted the head of my cock into her pussy, and
then withdrew it. I did this many times, while kissing Karen
full on the mouth, biting her lips tenderly. I timed my biting
and kissing to coincide with my teasing her with my cock: kiss-
ing and biting hard as I inserted, and then stopping to smile at
her and teasingly ask "do you like that?" when I withdrew.
Well, we'd gone too far too fast: I hadn't yet demonstrated
my prowess at oral sex. After inserting my cock deeply into her
pussy, deeply just once, an activity that felt extraordinarily
good (I love that tight, warm, moist feeling on my cock), I
withdrew. She protested a little, by way of squirming, when she
realized I was stopping, and then I proceeded to kiss and nibble
my way back down her body. Massaging her breasts for a while,
and sucking on her nipples. I moved up a little bit so that I
was able to brush my cock along her stomach and breasts, and I
stroked her with it for a short time.
"I think I'd like to caress you with my tongue," I whis-
pered. "I want to taste you, kiss you, and see you move to my
attentions."
I then worked my way towards her pussy, kissing, licking and
biting the lower edge of her ribs, her stomach and hips, down to
her knees and back up by way of the inside of her thighs, strok-
ing and squeezing her body with my hands and arms.
And then I began to caress her seriously with my tongue.
Her hips were certainly beginning to rock and small animal noises
were coming from out of her mouth. I caressed her in waves. I
would gently start, with long, slow, sweeping movements of my
tongue. I would occasionally probe deeper and, as Karen respond-
ed I would pick up the pace with faster, stronger strokes. As
Karen began to move more rapidly, as if towards an orgasm, I
would just stop, kiss her and nibble on her thighs until her
movements subsided.
I did this for awhile, sometimes moving up to passionately
kiss her, forcing my tongue deeply into her mouth.
She may have a number of orgasms during these proceedings.
I'm not sure, but other women have told me that they've orgasmed
more than once while I thought they were still "building." I
didn't know to check for a skin flush: so I relied on movement
and moisture to check her progress.
Finally, I felt she was almost teased enough, so I moved
above her for the coup de grace. I kissed and bit her face
roughly, but not so as to hurt her, and asked; "Do you want me?"
I thought that this was the nature of the game, having never
played before and assuming that I should play along with the
bondage bit as corny as some of it sounded. She smiled through
clenched teeth, shook her head and tried not to say yes. A
little bit of fight still in her, eh?
Alright, I lay down so as to rest lightly on top of her and
reached down and took my cock in my hand. I took the head and
starting rubbing it along the now, very wet groove between her
legs, being sure to carefully stimulate the clitoral region on
th. She responded dramatically to this new
tactic and began thrusting her hips towards me, biting me, kiss-
ing me, and making those same animal noises, only now with more
passion. I asked her again if she wanted me and she groaned out
a hoarse 'yes'.
This was my cue to insert my cock deeply and begin pumping
for that immense orgasm that I new was coming. As Karen thrashed
on the car and I pumped her wildly I got cocky and forced my
mouth to her ears and yelled "Scream Karen, Scream!" to encourage
her to lose more control than she already had. She promptly got
louder, but I couldn't get her to scream. Then I was unable to
hold myself back and came with one of those legendary, earthshak-
ing orgasms. Karen didn't waste any time and had an orgasm of
her own, leaving us to crumble back onto the hood.
Man on a Car,
-------------
I relaxed and lay beside her on the hood of the car. It
wasn't that comfortable, lying sideways on the hood, despite the
sleeping bag. Karen quickly surprised me: "Now it's your turn"
she said, still tied to her car.
"What do you mean" I said, rather dumbly, already knowing
what she meant.
"Now I get to tie you up" she said. Her lovely smile was so
innocent and engaging. Why was I getting that sinking fear
feeling in my belly? I protested a little (as I untied her,
because she now definitely wanted to be unbound) but she was very
convincing in arguing that "fair is fair." After all, I'd proba-
bly enjoy her "imaginative ministrations" (not her exact words,
but she made it sound like it would be fun).
So, I lay down on the hood, naked, on my back. She tied me
up with her nylons and the strips from my costume. When she
started using the black masking tape I became concerned. Some-
how, it was different when I was on top and she was on the bot-
tom. I hadn't realized before, it just didn't occur to me, that
I'd have to reciprocate. The fear feeling was taking up serious
residence in my belly.
"Look, we don't need all that tape, I'm not going anywhere,"
I said, as she wrapped the tape many times around the black
fabric that used to be my costume. Karen was careful so the tape
didn't touch my skin as she wrapped it over the nylon and costume
strips. It served to hold me quite secure. Of course, 'danger-
ous guys' don't show any fear in situations like this, and so I
didn't either. 'Dangerous guys' just go with the flow. She told
me it had to be 'real' and I laid back and tried to act cool and
froody. After all, hadn't I just tied her up?
Before very long I suspected -dreaded- I was bound so I
couldn't get free even if I *really* wanted too. She laughed and
smiled and asked me to "O.K., try it now!" So I did. I tried to
*casually* attempt to break free. As I feared, I couldn't.
Amazingly, I was worried about appearances. Despite the
fact we had just fucked for an hour, and that I'd casually known
Karen for months, tied as I was I seemed to trust her less than I
had moments ago when I was free. But I remained calm and told
myself that this was no different than with me on top, and that I
should be relaxing and enjoying what was obviously going to come
next. I should dispel thoughts of police or truckers showing up
to check us out and show the same self-confidence that Karen had
when she was bound.
Anyway, Karen seemed delighted. I was already erect as a
result of the physical contact associated with her tying me up,
and now she started to tease me.
She was far rougher than I was. That was good. She bit me
harder, she kissed me harder and she thrust her tongue into my
mouth so that the word 'eager' just doesn't seem applicable. She
fondled my cock with her hands and caressed my body with her
breasts. She gently started sucking on my cock as I became
harder and my hips started rocking. I was enjoying myself to no
end.
Then she knelt astride my chest with what I'll describe now
(poetic license) as a mysterious, devilish, knowing smile, look-
ing down at me. Suddenly, her expression changed to mock sur-
prise, as if some wonderful idea had just struck her, and she
looked around with an exaggerated intensity.
"You know what, I think there's a better spot just around
the corner!" she said, looking off towards another secluded spot.
It took only a second for this to sink in. She looked down at me
with a *huge* grin. I tried to pretend she was kidding. She
quickly gathered our stuff and threw it in her car.
"Hey look Karen, you can't drive around with me tied to your
hood!" I exclaimed. I started struggling now for real. Al-
though, image *is* everything, I tried to look cool and froody as
I tried to loose myself. No way could I break free. Karen came
back to the hood, leaned over to kiss me, said "It's only a few
yards" and, smiling gleefully, still naked, got into her car.
As she started it up and backed out onto the little service
road (just a curvy little path through the heavily treed picnic
area) I was definitely feeling what you could describe as "in-
tense emotion." Some of you might think "well, a few yards in
the middle of the night, what harm can it do?" These thoughts
didn't console me as we slowly drove to the other spot. I mean,
this was a *public* place and I was *naked* and *bound*, tied to
the hood of some woman's car. Karen asked if I was O.K. I said
I'd be more O.K. if she untied me. She said "not yet," she
hadn't had her turn yet.
You can't imagine the feeling of looking up at the stars on
a hot summer night, bound stark naked, exposed, moving in the
open. (Well, since this is alt.sex.bondage, maybe you can!)
In what was really no time at all we were parked in another
spot and Karen was back on the hood.
"My, it seems that you liked that!!!" she said, observing
the fact that my cock was now in the "raging" hard-on stage. For
some reason, I seemed to find fear sexually exciting. I still do
find it stimulating. In later experiments with pain and bondage
(yes, I become more deviant with every passing year) I discovered
(in fact, I quickly discovered) that neither do anything for me
at all, in and of themselves, but they certainly help as instru-
ments of fear.
Anyway, I wasn't the only one who was excited. Our little
drive had Karen in a frenzy and she knelt above my head and
rammed her pussy down on my face. Despite the fact that I could
barely gasp for breath, I employed my tongue to the best of my
abilities, until it ached and I could hardly move it (I didn't
have to though, her gyrations were all that were required).
She must have had at least one orgasm, and maybe more,
before she changed positions. She sat astride my waist, inserted
my cock in her soaking pussy (I hate words like "raging" and
"soaking," but I'm not very original and they do apply here).
She was a wild fuck, humping up and down, with furious body
motion, her long hair swinging round and round. What an orgasm I
had, fucking incredible! I don't know about other guys, but I
find nothing more exciting than a frenzied woman sexually mauling
me! She was still going after I'd come, and I stayed hard for as
long as I could.
Finally, Karen finished, gasping and moaning, and stretched
out on top of me. We lay there for a while catching our breath,
and then I said something like "oh fuck, that was great" and
started to make little movements to signal my desire to be un-
tied. She ignored these signals, and after a little while began
to kiss my neck and upper chest. Then she sat up, astride my
waist, and started rubbing my upper body. We were both covered
in sweat, and she licked some off my chest around my nipples.
While I enjoyed this attention I was now quite ready to be
untied. "Look, my arms are stiff" I said, with an appealing
smile, or so I hoped, straining with one arm so she would take
the hint. Karen just smiled and said "Let's go for a drive?"
HOLY FUCK!
My face must have shown my shock and distress, nay, absolute
terror. I lost my cool and froody exterior for a second and then
regained my composure.
"Forget it Karen" I said, "there's no fucking way I'm going
for another drive!" I tried to sound confident, stern and angry
despite my position of weakness.
Karen started to rub her pussy against my cock. She bit my
neck, very hard and began to excite herself. I began to get real
worried, not to mention excited. Karen was lush and sensuous.
"I won't drive very fast," she said, "We'll turn off at the
first chance. There's no one on the road at this hour," she said
while she moved her body seductively on top of mine. She started
to tease me expertly, pinching my nipples, rubbing her pussy
against my cock and, what really got to me mentally, tantalizing
me with her incredibly seductive smile. It as at this point that
I realized she meant the *highway* and not the picnic site.
However, I was stupid enough to believe she asking my permission,
and this served to relax me a little, not that being tense served
any purpose.
Well, there's *always* someone on the 401, and anyway, I
just wasn't interested. Terrified, yes. Intensely aroused, yes.
Interested, no. As Karen was still smiling, expertly manipulat-
ing me, I began to loose the old cool.
I sort of got angry. At least I tried to. I thought this
would be wise. I would let her know she'd be in deep shit if she
didn't untie me. I attempted to be utterly convincing in my
effort to portray myself as a man capable of horrible violence,
who would only be able to restrain himself if he was immediately
freed. She just giggled and laughed, sitting on me as I
squirmed, failing miserably in my tough guy act (I'm not a tough
guy). Her ministrations had me so excited now that it severely
limited my repertoire of coercive expressions.
She got up and got in her car. But not without stopping to
savor the moment. At this point I was really worried. I *knew*
that physically, she wouldn't hurt me. I also, in my mind,
didn't believe I was in any physical danger. BUT, Karen was
overdosing on adrenalin or something. She was making those
jerky, fidgety motions that children make when they're terribly
excited and can't maintain their composure. Her smile started to
look maniacal. This added to my mortal fear of people (e.g.
truckers, police, bike gangs, as realistic or unrealistic as
these fears may be, I had them bad) seeing me.
She pulled out and headed for the 401. At this point, I
still entertained the fantasy that she was going to stop at the
last instant, back up, and let it go at that.
"Here we go!" she screamed as we pulled out onto the high-
way, the wind rushing past my naked body, me desperately trying
to focus on the stars as if mankind didn't exist at all. "It's
just like streaking!" she yelled. Karen hadn't bothered with her
clothes and was stark naked as well.
You can really feel a car's power when you're tied to the
hood, with the engine throbbing inches below you. I remember
clearly thinking "I'm glad I didn't drop acid." It was going
around early in the evening, but I abstained on the grounds that
I might have had to talk to police later, and I hate talking to
police when I'm stoned on acid.
As the car accelerated to a cruising speed, which I don't
think was very fast, I was rendered speechless. When I go on a
roller coaster, I'm always speechless just at the top, when the
car goes over the precipice, just before plunging down the track.
My stomach knots up and my body goes numb. This happened to me
as we got on the highway, but it didn't go away.
I fancied that the wind blowing past my face was somehow
sucking the breath out of my lungs and that I was suffocating. I
managed to convince myself this wasn't so and began to breath
slowly and as deeply as possible. My penis shriveled up to the
size of a small crayon.
Meanwhile, Karen was howling: "Yeeeeeeee-Haaaaaaaaa," or
some similar noise. She was as excited as I've ever seen a
woman, or ever expect to see one.
If I thought driving around the parking lot tied to the hood
was "interesting," zooming down the highway was a different kind
of experience. Thinking back, I wish I'd tried to enjoy it, but
I didn't, I just hoped it would end. I was seriously worried now
as to the extent of Karen's insanity, and what else she might do
with me.
Fortunately, we pulled off the highway onto a side-road.
She parked about 800 meters in from the 401 and leaped out of the
car, and back onto the hood. This road was fairly open, Karen
was making no attempt to conceal our activities. I found the
sight of her naked body arousing, but not arousing enough to
overcome the effects of our little drive, and the exposed nature
of our activities.
"I want to fuck you, badly" she moaned, as she began to work
on me, kissing and biting, rubbing and squeezing, using her whole
body including both legs. I began to feel as if I was being
raped, as there now seemed to be no element of consent involved
on my part, but my body betrayed me, and I responded to her by
becoming aroused and hard. Her technique at this point was just
furious energy. She got my only just hardened cock inside her
and began pumping me like I don't know what. She was laying with
her weight full on me, raking my sides with her fingernails, her
arms squeezing me, her legs thrashing every once in awhile to get
a better grip around my own. She had her eyes closed and was
drenched in sweat, panting, gritting her teeth, and spitting out
"come-on, come-on, come-on" to encourage me.
I'd rarely seen the kind animal emotional intensity that
Karen was radiating, and the close physical contact made it seem
all the more ferocious. Of course, all you college students
might be thinking that this would be a desirable situation to be
in. However, I'd had two goes at Karen already, that, the crazy
drive on the 401, and my growing concern that Karen had lost
control had me wondering if I'd bit off more than I could chew.
Karen's feverish pumping had brought her to what I has
assumed was orgasm, it was hard to tell, but she was still grind-
ing me into the car like so much meat. I had no control of
rhythm at all, and Karen was on a rhythm of her own: off what I
needed to come easily. My cock was aching now, and the pain
began to bother me. Despite this fact, I began to find the whole
situation intensely arousing, it was just impossible not to be
effected by Karen's passion. There seemed to be this positive
reinforcement factor kick in: I felt myself uncontrollably moving
towards orgasm, and this very fact aroused me more, in a vicious
circle that led to me bucking my hips up and down, lifting Karen
up a couple feet off the car, and then down, at an increasing
pace.
Karen sat up and dug her hands into my chest, almost ripping
off my nipples, I bled afterwards from numbers of places. I
started to grunt with exertion, pumping a woman up and down in
the air with your hands and legs bound is damn hard work.
Finally, I came, holding Karen up in the air, and she came
too, almost screaming. I flopped down and she on top of me. We
rested a while and then, without any prompting, Karen untied me.
We drove to her apartment, making light conversation, drank
some wine, and crashed. I slept until the following evening,
when I went home on the bus. One thing led to another, and Karen
and I never fucked again.
Too bad.
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