Auto-erotic

A girl recounts how she developed her sexuality. #Frottage

“Check this out,” My momma showed me, what happened when you pulled the hand-brake, and spun the car around at the Fairgrounds. I didn’t hear until later, this weird theory that handbrake turns were like a peacock feathers until Top Gear came on the TV.

Or “Telly,” as they say in England, but it’s a joke, really. At least, the audience laughed, but when we watched that, I looked over at mom, and she smiled with a little nod. That reminded me, that she said “Don’t tell your father,” after we got done driving around the fairgrounds, doing donuts, and popping the clutch so it thumped you in the back, because that’s not good for the car.

So, I turned to him, and asked, “Daddy, is that true?” He laughed, and looked at mom, she just smiled, and nodded at him, so he told me.

“Well, your mother always seemed to like it.”

She touched my arm, “Honestly, that’s how we met. He was always driving fast, and pulling stunts in the high school parking lot, before they paved it over.” I was still too young, so they kept it PG, but obviously it doesn’t literally blow your panties off. At least, it never did, whenever mommy took me out fishtailing, because the fairgrounds had gravel around their parking lot, and it was usually empty. Unless the county fair was in town, or on Flea Market days, but they had rides at the fair, too.

Of course, those were fun too, but you only got to ride them once a year. You could take the car out for a ride, pretty much any time you wanted to feel those thrills, but then the next time I payed attention. I never noticed what mommy did after we got home, because she always took daddy in their room, with the door closed, and didn’t make too much noise, but I had enough clues to put it together.

I knew that it made mommy horny, years before I even started getting horny myself, but then I met a boy at the fair. Mom, and dad left me in line, and went to get some stuff to eat, and drink. The line moved a lot faster, or they lost track of time before they got back, so then I got to sit with a stranger, on the Big Top.

That’s what they called it, it was painted red, and white stripes. Like a circus tent, but really it was more like a merry go-round that went up, and down a pole in the middle. With little cages hanging under it, instead of horses, but like I said, they didn’t go up, and down, the whole ride did. The stranger said, “Don’t be scared,” and I wasn’t, but when he hugged me, I cuddled up, and felt his ribs through our shirts.

I guess I had to’ve been about 12, or 13, because I wasn’t completely flat. I remember my bra rubbing up, and down his ribs like a washboard when we breathed, and the elevator feeling you got when it reached the top, and you started floating. Then it reached the bottom, so you sank down heavy when it started up again.

Also, I knew about sex, what goes where, and there was the pole flashing bye when the cage spun around, and everything was spinning, but there was a new thrill, I knew right away what it was. I was so horny, and as soon as i touched his lap, I felt it through his pants. Long, and hard, just like the hand brake lever, but the ride slowed down, and stopped before we got to go much further.

He just felt me up, through my shirt, bra, pants, and undies. I had just got his zipper down, but I didn’t get to see it, except the bulge in his underwear. He zipped back up, and I scooted over to the other side of the booth, so nobody would know what we’re doing, but when he got out. He untucked his shirt, and ran off to hide the boner I gave him.

Then, I met mom, and dad, outside the turnstile, with corn dogs, and beers to drink, but I was ashamed, and the corn-dog was a little too much like what I was trying to hide on my face, so dad ate it. Washed it down with the rest of his beer, and then he took us out to the midway, to try and win us some animals throwing baseballs at bowling pins.

He said it was “Rigged,” but we had fun, and went home, but the whole way back, I looked at the gear shifter, and the hand brake handle. Remembering that guy’s boner, and dad reminded me to lock the doors like he always did, when we got home. I locked one, on his side, but I left the other one on mom’s side so I could sneak out, after they went to bed together.

A long story short, I got my first orgasm, humping the handbrake in my nighty, and panties, but imagining it was that guy, I didn’t even get his name. All he said was “Don’t be scared,” but he didn’t know me any better. How much I loved rides like that, fast cars, and hand brake turns. Especially going out shopping with mom, so she could stop by the gravel, and show off on the way to the store.

I guess that’s how I got so Auto-erotic. That’s a joke, you get it? I know, that really means that you turn yourself on, and prefer to do it alone, but for me, I love fast cars, and boys that drive fast. Show off, and this was back before they started “Drifting.” They just did Drag Racing, and stopped when they got to the next light, an exact quarter of a mile away. They had a race-track, too, but that was only open on weekends, and you had to pay money. The quarter mile lights were free, every night, and also illegal.

The cops knew all about it, but they didn’t know When, because it’s not like we all gathered around, and took turns drag racing. Instead, you’d just pull up, and if you knew somebody next to you, because it wasn’t exactly a big city. Not really a small town neither, I guess it was about 30-to-50,000 people? Back in the day, but anyway, if you had a fast car, and liked to race, or hung around the boys with fast cars, it didn’t take long to get to know everyone.

That included the cops that would race you, if no-one was looking, and they’d only write you a ticket if they beat you. You could tell, even though they had tinted windows, so they could see out, but you couldn’t see who they had in the back. Which was illegal for everyone else, but likewise, they had this 1 car, the drag racers called the “Cricket.”

Not just because it had the name C. Rickett on the door, that was officer Chris Rickett, but also Click It or Ticket on the other side. Where you could see it from the sidewalk, or the turn lane pulled up at the first light. It was a Mustang, fox body, 2 door with a Bypass Valve to switch from the regular exhaust to the illegal straight pipe.

Officer Crickett wrote a lot more tickets for “Speeding” then he did for driving without your seat belt, because he cheated. That thing wasn’t street legal, at all, and who knows what all he had under the hood, but anybody that knows what a straight pipe sounds like, knew about that bypass valve, so it was the fastest car in town.

Oh yeah, and I got a job at a muffler shop, as soon as I got my Work Permit. So I could ask the bikers about the pipes on that Cricket car. They were all bikers, but it wasn’t really a Biker Gang, it was a Motorcycle Club, with stickers that said Loud Pipes Save Lives on their gas tanks, or fenders. So, that made it easy to ask them about it, and of course they mean that the other drivers can hear you, if you’re in their blind spot. So, they know not to change lanes, with you there, and run you over.

Now, they didn’t have a Mustang there, and the cops didn’t bring any cars in for servicing. They had there own garage, and gas station, so there was no way you’d ever get a chance to find out what they had in that car, unless you’re a cop, too. They did have an F-150 (Of course. Best seller in the world, forever.) with a catalytic converter they had to change, so it could pass inspection.

So, while they had it up on the lift, Home Boy (I know, it’s racist, because he was racist. That’s why they called him Home Boy, or “Homey” to tease him.) showed me how the stock pipe bent up, and over the back axle, on all Fords, including a Mustang. Then, he showed me a Supercharger, with flapper valves, and explained to me that a Bypass valve isn’t illegal. It’s just to hide the straight pipe, with no muffler, or a glass pack hooked up backwards, so the fiberglass blows out.

That’s illegal, the bypass valve just lets you drive around on the street, and switch to the illegal exhaust when you get to the race track. Or blow out street cars, because you’re a cop, and none of the other cops will stop you to write you a ticket.

I know, sexy huh? Well, I’m weird, so honestly all those pipes, and grease, cars, trucks, and motorcycles, not to mention spending all afternoon with bikers in leather vests with no shirts on under them. Well? It’s sexy to me!

So, I’d get in the old car, which wasn’t fast. Fast enough to do a J turn with the hand-brake, but I got it before I ever even turned 16, because mom finally talked dad into getting Red Hot. That’s what she called the GTI, and so he didn’t worry about her, she told him it was for him, then borrowed it to go shopping.

Right, on a friday night, after dark, when nobody was out Airbase Road. Except for the drag racers, and the chicks that hung out to watch them race. “Oh, look. We’re out of butter. I’m just going to pick up a pound real quick, and be right back.” or a gallon of milk, I even ate extra bowls of cerial so she’d run out exactly every friday night.

i just stopped asking if I could go, but that’s how I found out about the quarter mile lights in the first place. She took me, but she didn’t encourage me to dress like the other girls there. I’ll just say that. There was nothing out there, except for the old airbase, and the trailer park that used to be for the Air Force, back when it used to be open. Just a landing strip, and you’d think they could race there, but no. The cops, and the Air Force went out, and tore up the pavement, just so that people didn’t use it for racing, (Or drug smuggling with planes, but I hadn’t heard about that, and it stopped way back in the 70s) but they still had the lights, exactly a quarter mile apart.

That was years, and years before I was born, but the trailer park sluts. I’m sorry, but there’s no other way to put it. They didn’t really have no where else to hang out, unless they had a car, or a driver licence, so most of them were young. Too young, we’re talking 13 at the oldest, and some of them were as young as 9, but started puberty early. They just hung out, and got rides with the guys.

I even wanted to, myself, but I knew there was no way I’d get away with it. My mom was bound to show up, and catch me in jeans cut off to denim panties, a tight tank-top so you could see my bra, and boobies, enough make-up for a drag queen, televangelist wife, or a back alley hooker. So, I never got rides, one with my mom there (And everyone knew her) and B, because I couldn’t compete with the jailbait dressed up like turnpike hookers.

Okay, I also showed off, a little too much. I didn’t know that now, guys get a grudge, and hold it when you beat them, in an old burnt out Topaz with a sloppy clutch. I learned to drive in that car, my dad taught me before I even got my learner permit, but my mom. She’s the one that taught me how to shift, and sure, having a fast car helps, but if you don’t know how to dump the clutch, and run through the gears, you’re going to get dusted, if you don’t stall out on the line.

So, they kinda hated me, and the only thing they ever wanted to do with me, was beat me. Except for little Cricket, that is. He was always a couple years younger’n me, and his daddy being a cop, and all. Not just any cop, but Chris Rickett Senior. “Do as I say, not as I do,” drag race cheater cop. So, I wouldn’t say my momma was a bad influence on me, but we definitely had that in common.

Nobody would race him, nor let him race. He didn’t have a car, and he barely had a learner permit, because they’re scared of his old man pulling them over. I pulled up, one night, and he was hanging out with the trailer traps. Honestly, girls his age, but he didn’t have a car, and the jailbait, hooking up with the Sheriff’s son? Not gonna happen, but you couldn’t blame a boy for trying.

All right, I had the hots for his daddy, forever, and he was starting to look more’n more like him, every day. Still wasn’t even started on a mustache, or he shaved off the peach fuzz, I didn’t ask him. I just pulled up at the bus-stop, where they’re hanging, down a ways from the first light. Reached up under the dash, for the pipe tee I had tied to the aircraft cable, and pulled the butterfly valve.

WHRN! Not really a bypass valve, because it didn’t have a straight pipe, or nothing. Just a bare butterfly valve, elbowed into the muffler. Opened up under the gas tank so there was nothing but air from there to the bumper.

“Hey, Chris,” He actually pointed, “Wanna ride?” He jumped at the chance to hop in. “Buckle up,” so I hit the button with my thumb, dropped the hand brake, and dumped the clutch with another practiced tug on the flapper valve. WHRNNNNnnnh!

WHRNNnnnh!

The light was red, but I ran it, kicked the clutch to the floor, and jerked the handbrake, just as the gate ramp was coming up, sliding the back end around almost to a stop, and jumped the clutch again when the pavement caught up to the bald tires.

Home-made racing slicks, with the tread wore off, and damn near throwing bits of wire from the layer of steel belts. The gate was gone, years ago, and the landing strip was nothing but chunks of concrete you’d need a crane to haul off and clear it for dirt racing, so nobody ever bothered. had a parking lot once, and now it was the perfect place to turn donuts, burn rubber, until i finally bew a tire, and dropped it on the rim.

“Ha! Ahahahaha!” I finally released the valve, and let the engine stall, so i could hear myself, laugh, and “Woohoo!”

I jumped his bone. Right then and there, I didn’t even set the parking brake, just snapped the buckle, threw the seat belt out the way, and climbed on over to his seat to sit on his lap. Sticking my thumbs up under his jaw, and kissing him hard. Grinding my crotch into his, and finally feeling his hands. Gently pat my sides, then feel around front to find out I didn’t have no bra on.

So, i pulled my top off, his shirt up. Scooted back to the dash board so I could get his pants open, his dick out, and rode it like the handbrake until he couldn’t hold back no more.

“Uh, Jesus!” he blew it, up his panting tummy, almost as high as his nipples, and went soft up against the front of my cutoff shorts. “Huh, huh! God, you’re amazing!”

I would’ve raped him, if he hadn’t let me, but I pulled the door, and got out the passenger side. Holding his shirt up, so I could lick what wasn’t smeared on the front of my shorts, just to get a taste of it. Sperm, my first, well. Honestly, the second time I ever even felt a boner, but I was so horny, i didn’t even get my pants unbuttoned until it was all over. Then, I did, so I could get my fingers wet, and rub my clit between two of them to a fun thrilling orgasm, and finally just set my head down on his lap.

He felt my hair, brushed it out of my face, and let me catch my breath before he asked “Is this, uh.” I got up, and he looked away. “I mean, is that it, gonna be. Uh one time thing’r.?”

“You want to go out, with me?”

“As my girlfriend?”

“Well, girlfriend, boyfriend, until you get a car. I’m gonna have to pick you up, but if you want to.”

“Yeah,” he took my hand, and just looked up at me. His eye shining in the dome light, with the door open. (One of the few things that worked on that busted old thing,) but I squeezed it, and let him go.

“Huh!” I sighed, “Hand me my shirt, I have to put the spare tire on.” He fixed his pants, and got out to help me with the jack, but I wrecked it on the way back. After i dropped him off at the bus stop, the busses weren’t running, after dark. Just to hang out, and probably tell the girls about getting lucky with me.

They were jealous, of me. he told me later, that’s why they never talked to me before, and just walked off when i pulled up, usually. They kinda hated me too, maybe it was their older brothers, or boyfriends trash talking me, and maybe it was the fact that I had a car, until another tire blew out, and I couldn’t control it before I swerved off, and hit the ditch.

I didn’t have another spare tire, either, but I wasn’t going that fast. Just cruising, recollecting my first time with Chris, and thinking on the next time, how far we could go the next night I picked him up, when the tire blew.

I had some money saved up, anyhow. Not enough to buy a fast car, but enough to get a $400.00 roller, that ran. The parts to make it fast, but that was years on down the road…

🔞 Candy.AI 🔥 AI Sex Chat - Roleplay, Erotic Stories, Try for Free 🕹️

Please, Rate This Story:

(average: 3.20 out of 5 votes)