Driving a Lamborghini is more than just a blushing rush of adrenaline. It's more than a feeling of luxury or elitist pride. The speed, the danger and the edgy tease of the design make it unrepeatable; undeniable even. When I'm inside it's more than simply thrill that courses through me, its lusty embrace appeals to my desires every moment I'm behind the wheel. You see, a Lamborghini does not ask permission, it owns it. Today I will be no different. I grab my keys from my desk and glance around to spot my supervisor heading into his office, shutting the door behind him.
Perfect.
I remove the six inch stiletto heels I'm wearing so my boss won't hear my quick retreat. Only when I reach the stairs to the parking garage do I replace my shoes. My easy wrap around, sarong style dress comes off easily just as I reach the handle of my car door. Beneath it I am well prepared for a ride, dressed in a red satin corset edged with black lace along with a matching pair of cheeky lace riddled panties. Attached to my garters I'm wearing black fishnet thigh length stockings that complement the sleek style of my pumps. This bulesque attire, I decided was the only way to ever ride in my Lamborghini. I felt I needed to match its sex appeal and allure, it also made me feel quite invincible, sitting in the curve of the seat, with a such a ravishing appearance.
I felt like something akin to Batman as I peeled out of the garage. I sped from 0 to 80 in less than a split second heading toward the back roads of town away from everyone.
I had developed a routine, you see; almost an addiction. Almost every day I bought a new lingerie set to sate my Lamborghini ride. I would leave work, home or just about any activity to ride when the craving came over me. It had become a hypnotic cycle; the more I rode the more I wanted to ride. Each time I flashed down the road at blinding speeds potentially risking my life at the slightest miscalculation of a turn or curve the more the blatant hunger within me grew.
There was a freedom, a smooth, delicious freedom, driving behind the wheel of a Lamborghini, it was almost like teleporting, sailing or gliding. My edgy pumps flattened the gas pedal as the rushing winds seduced my exposed body providing a combination of raw sensations.
I had been very careful however about where I took my rides. As per my routine I only drove at night in abandoned areas with long stretches of road that went on for miles.
Today was not unlike any other ride so naturally I never even saw the officer parked off sight, hidden in some shadowy place.
But he saw me.
I flew, zipping past him at over 100 miles per hour, so fast the traces of my speed blew the secured lid off his evening coffee.
I saw his lights miles later, flashing brightly in my rearview and fast approaching. My adrenaline spiked and at first I meant to give him a chase.There is no way he could ever outrun my V12 engine, I could easily lose him. The only problem with that is the potential for him to call for back up. There could be no turning back from an all out full blown car chase. Still the hunger seemed almost ignited, daring me to test him.
Pushing my stiletto heel down flat yet again, I begin to speed up. Surprisingly, he fights to keep on my tail. With a dark smile, I whip the wheel, pulsing back and drifting into a full turn, now facing him as he speeds to catch up and I finally stop my car.