The Car 10

So how did I get an 18 year old girl, who was crying and screaming profanities at me one minute to be the first person that I had sex with in a car, all in the span of about two hours?

I am a wizard, that's how.

To be fair, I need to start with why she was crying and screaming at me.

It was June, 1993. I had just turned 18 in April and her in March. I know, older women. I still have a thing for them to this day. School was out and every day the conversation led to what to do that night. In the city that we lived in, some of the nightclubs opened up during the week for "High School Kids." A "no alcohol" kind of night. Keep kids off the streets, shit like that.

Let me just start by saying that things of this nature aren't my scene. I don't enjoy the loud music, dancing, and all that comes along with it. I just don't like people that much. To this day, I keep my circle small because people in groups suck.

That's another thing that I tell my wife now all the time. I hate doing things in groups. The reason is that no one can ever agree on anything. They all want to do what they want to do and fuck what you want to. Maybe I don't want to do what they want to do, but in the effort of being part of a damn group, I have to. So I keep my circle small. I always have.

I guess it was Tuesday about five o'clock when I the phone rang, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Her name was Karen and she was my girlfriend.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I replied.

"I just wanted to see what you had planned tonight," She inquired.

"I don't know. I was going to see if you wanted to go for a ride later."

Going for a ride was code for:

Do you want to go somewhere and fool around

.

"I was thinking about going to see what Brian and Angela were doing and maybe going to hang out with them," She replied.

Brain and Angela were friends of ours. Check that, Brian was a friend of mine and Angela was a friend of hers. I didn't care for Angela very much and lord knows that she didn't care for me at all. Brian and I had made the cardinal sin, we started dating girls that were best friends. These bitches even designed their own language so that they could talk about Brian and I right in front of our faces. Whores!

I didn't want to go out with them because I knew what they were going to do. They were going to one of the aforementioned clubs call

The Edge.

It was "Teen Night" and like I said before, not my scene. Besides, all that they were going to do was sit around and talk about how Brian and I couldn't hold our wad longer that a commercial break and who needs that kind of negativity in their life?

Trying not to be a total dick, I replied, "Yeah, I'm not going to do that. Go if you want. I guess I'll just stay here and wash my dick."

"Why don't you want to go out with them?"

"Because it's the same old fucking thing," I replied. "We're going to get there, you guys are going to do your girl thing. Brian and I are going to want to leave. You guys are going to accuse us of not having a good time on purpose. I am going to call you a cunt and you're going to break up with me until you are horny again."

If you thought that was bad, you haven't read anything yet.

I could feel her anger building up through the phone as she said, "Well, I'm going."

Nothing for the cunt comment?

"You do that," I told her, "and I will be here going through my little black book of chicks that will actually blow me."

Yeah, I said that shit

.

Her anger was flowing through the phone now accompanied by a higher voice level, "You know, you're not all that. Angela tells me all the time that I could do much better than you. She tells me that I am wasting my time with someone whose entire goal is to tell jokes on stage. Someone who just wants to shock people when he says words like..."

"Cunt?" I interrupted.

"Do not call me that again?"

"What? Cunt?"

"I am warning you," She offered.

"You don't want to be known as 'Karen the Cunt'? Then with all due respect, shut the fuck up. I'm not going to the club."

There was a long silence on the phone. I don't think she knew quite what to say to that. After about a minute of silence I decided to press my luck and said, "What's wrong? Cunt got your tongue?"

I heard her take a long breath and then in a very low voice she said, "I'll be right over."

There was about a mile in between Karen's house and mine which meant I didn't have much time to prepare. Everything about our relationship was convenient. I met her through a friend that lived around the corner. She lived close. It only took me six months to get into her pants, and once I did, she couldn't get enough. See...convenient.

I thought about what she might say. You see, Karen had a nasty temper. She could subside it most times, but once you unleashed it, there was hell to pay. It was like her crazy was dormant until just the right amount of bullshit brought it out. I knew this because I would usually say about three things a day that got her "Crazy Look" thrown my way. I have to admit, it was kind of fun getting her so worked up. Maybe I just never cared that much about something to get so worked up about it, but it was certainly fun and not much of a challenge to get her to fly off the handle. I expected an epic battle this time. She did not care for that word. I have come to find out, that not many women do, but I just didn't give a fuck back then.

She pulled up in her maroon Ford Mustang and immediately exited the vehicle. I was outside on the steps waiting for her. Not because I didn't want to let her into my house, but because I wanted to see what kind of a show that she would give the neighbors.

The sight of me sitting on the steps must have ignited her because almost immediately upon seeing me she started screaming, "You want to call me a cunt? You want to call me a cunt?"

She was walking very quickly and continued, still screaming, "You have called me a cunt one too many times. Now I am going to show you how much of a cunt I can be!"

"Calm Down. Calm down," I uttered softly, "We have neighbors that have never heard that before. You know, church folk. "

Angrily she looked at me, "What? You don't call them cunts?"

"No, Just you."

Yeah, I said that shit.

She didn't like it either because her voice raised, "I can't believe that I have put up with you for as long as I have. I need my motherfucking head checked or something." She started to cry uncontrollably, but still screaming, "I thought that you cared about me. I am an idiot."

"I love you," I told her.

"It would behoove you not to speak you dumbshit. You don't love me. You just love that fact that I let you fuck me!"

"Nothing could be further from the truth, Karen."

"Don't patronize me! I have given you every piece of me and you still treat me like shit!"

"I treat you like shit? Yes, I called you a cunt, I am sorry. I am not going to say that it won't happen again, because it probably will because sometimes you act like it. You call my dream stupid all of the time and tell me that I shouldn't waste my time on it. That's the way of being super supportive. So when I call you a cunt, it's a defense mechanism because sometimes, honestly, you are just a little too much to handle. Either way, you haven't given me every piece of you, because I know that I haven't given you every piece of me. Physically speaking, of course."

I continued, "So can we please stop the shouting and be civil to one another before my dad comes out here and tells us to shut the fuck up?"

She wiped her eyes and said in a normal tone, "I didn't know that you felt that way. Maybe we shouldn't be together. People who love each other shouldn't have to go on like this."

Okay, it's because of shit like this why women get paid a dollar and hour less than men. It's called a bullshit tax. Men get paid more for the amount of bullshit that women put them through. Specifically, trying to get the man to feel sorry for the woman, turning shit around on men, you get the drill. You might not admit it publicly, but silently, you agree with me.

I didn't want to break up with Karen. I did actually love her, or what I thought love was back then. Maybe, I just didn't want the hassle of finding someone else that would fuck me. I had already been to the finish line with her. I had to get this genie back in the bottle. I had to fix this.

In any sales manual you will ever read, it talks about objections. I have always been a consummate sales person in all aspects of life. I knew then, and I have taught many people since, that the best way to kill and objection is to agree with it. I was going to see if that strategy would work here. Some call it reverse psychology, I call reading people.

"You're right," I said. "We should break up and not get back together. It should be over."

I will never forget the look on her face when I said that. It was priceless. A combination of

I can't believe he just said that

and

Oh My God, is that Freddy Krueger?

She was silenced. I was stone-faced.

"Perhaps we should get out of here. I would like to have a little privacy," she stated.

Okay, so it was starting to get dark, and I was starting to get a little embarrassed by arguing out in front of God and country. I didn't want to go inside because the parent folk didn't need to hear what we were arguing about, so the thought occurred to me to go down the road a bit and talk in the car. That, however, could wind up backfiring on me because in the event that we were to come to terms, that meant that I would have to play nice and go to the fucking club, which, let us not forget, is what started this whole thing in the first place.

"I'm not going to the club," I replied.

"I'm past the club thing. How about we just take a ride and clear our head?"

That sounded like it was alright. You remember the code, right? "Okay, I'll drive."

We got into my blue Mercury Sable and started on down the road. It was getting dark, so if we were going to park somewhere, it had to be strategic. The city that we lived in was large, but not too large to find some kind of nook or cranny to wedge a car in there unnoticed.

Silence filled the car accompanied by the unmistakable sexual tension between Karen and me. We drove about ten miles and came up an old abandoned school in the county just to the south of us. It had two old school buses park next to each other with just enough room to wedge a car in between them. If a cop was to find us, or worse, her parents, they would have to be looking very hard. To be honest, later that year, in playing an adult version of "Hide & Seek", this is exactly where I hid. I won that game.

I pulled the car in and placed it in park before turning to Karen, who was seated in the passenger seat to my right, and saying in the most sarcastic voice I could find, "Okay, we went for a ride. Now talk."

"I don't want to break up," She said. "I just don't want you to feel that you are allowed to call me a cunt."

"I won't call you one if you don't act like one."

I know. I'm a dumbass.

She moved closer to me and put her hand right on my crotch, "How about this...If you can go a week without using that word - towards anyone - I'll suck your dick."

This just got interesting. I had never had a blow job before. But just like everything else, I had to fuck it up by opening my mouth, "Are you planning to swallow?"

"I guess you'll just have to play my little game and find out," She replied.

She unbuttoned my shorts and reached down into my pants, grabbing my cock by its base. She started ever so slightly to stroke up and down while whispering in my ear, "You said that you hadn't given me every piece of you. I already have the big piece. Now, I want it all. So, do you want to fuck in the front seat or in the back?"

A couple of things here. The big piece that she was referring to was the fact that she took my virginity, as I did hers. Secondly, was that fifteen minute drive really all that it took for you to calm down and get in the mood? You see, this is why men call women crazy. Does this seem sane to anyone else?

She did pose a great question though, did I want to fuck in the front seat or the back? In the ninety's, having sex in the car was the thing to do. It was in all of the movies and TV shows. All of the guys fantasized about it. Everyone want to be John Cusack I guess.

On the other hand, any guy that has ever watched a porno in his life, knows how glorious it is to have a woman on top of him. Ladies I know that you call us lazy, but this position can be beneficial to both parties involved. The woman has control and, in my experience, has a tendency to get off more frequently than when the man is on top. In my later years, I would find that when the woman is on top, every now and again I will lose my erection, but here I was eighteen, that wasn't going to happen.

I had a choice to make. Well, I had already been on top of her, let's see what the other entails. At least, that was my rational at the time. With her starting to speed up stroking my cock, I said, "Let me move over to the passenger seat and you get on top of me."

"How is that supposed to work?" She shockingly asked as she removed her hand from my dick.

"Well, it's not rocket surgery or anything," I told her, "I take my pants off and sit in the passenger seat. You take your pants off and sit on my dick. Then you go up and down until one or both of us cum. I think that's the general idea."

"How about we just lean the seat back and you fuck me normal?"

That's not fun.

"You said you wanted every piece of me," I loved using her own words against her. "This is another piece. You will be the first one of the cun...," I corrected myself, "Girls to have fucked from up on high."

"Okay, I guess we can try it," She very reluctantly replied.

I moved over to the passenger seat and leaned the seat back a bit. She started to take my pants off and like an idiot I said, "Well, since you are down there."

"It hasn't been a week yet, dumbass," She replied.

She removed her shorts and panties and proceeded to climb up on me. A girl was about to ride me! I could barely hold all my excitement in me. If we could pull this off, it was going to take .008 seconds for me to cum, but what the hell, I was young, I could just reload.

I placed my hand between her legs and could feel that she was dripping wet. This was going to go in easy. I reached for the glove box, which was behind her (that was a trick) to retrieve a condom.

"Do you want to put it on?" I asked.

"You're the one with the dick," She explained. I guess that meant no. To this day, after offering the same courtesy to many women, I have never had someone put a condom on me. About a month after I got married the first time, before sex one night, my wife asked me if I was going to put a condom on and I replied, "Hell no. What the fuck did I get married for?"

So I put the condom on and I was ready to insert. So I grabbed my dick to guide it the rest of the way.

Here we go. I think I got it. Yep, the hole is right here, and...

"OWWW!!"

"What?" I said

"You're in my ass motherfucker!" She screamed

I wasn't just in her ass, like tip in, her ass was resting on me, almost like she was scared to move. I was fully in her ass. My first anal, and let me tell you, it was tight! I almost shot right there just with the thought that I was in her ass.

"You want me to stop?" I asked.

"Get the fuck out of there! Slowly you jack ass. It fucking hurts!"

I slowly removed my penis from her asshole and returned to my expedition of finding the right hole. This was harder than it looked in the magazines. How do you know where to go? I repositioned myself a few inched north and went for it again. Surely, I couldn't make that mistake again.

"Stop," She said.

"What's wrong now?" I asked.

"Do you have another condom?"

"Why do I need another condom, I haven't shot yet. This one isn't ruined."

"You were just up my ass and now you want to put that same condom up my pussy? Not going to happen. Oh no, change the fucking condom."

I have always laughed at the term "Fucking Condom." As if there is another use for it. I just think it's funny.

"I have a whole box in the glove compartment. Let me see if I can get to it."

Now I have to get around her to get into the fucking glovebox again. Starting to be more work than this is worth. Wasn't she just yelling at me and now she had her pants off. Provocative.

"Got it!" I tore open the pack and put on the fresh, non-fecal matter condom, and went to insert myself again. "Is that the spot?" I asked.

"No."

"How about there?"

"No."

"There?"

"No."

"Here?"

"Man you are fucking moron! Give it to me."

She grabbed my cock and directed it quite forcibly just a little north of where I was and inserted it, but something wasn't right.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's not going in all the way," She replied.

"Well, I can feel that. Why not?"

"I am not quite sure," She continued, "I think it's the position that I am in. The problem is, in this lap of luxury, I can't get into a better position."

"You want to try in the back seat?"

I watched as she pondered the logistics of getting from the front seat to the back. We were intimate, but at that age I doubt anyone wants to flash their junk as much as it would take for her to climb into the back seat. Furthermore, because of the fact that we had our pants off, we couldn't just open the door and move to the back seat without putting all that shit back on. I could also tell that she was a little apprehensive of me being all up in her business. I thought that I would make her feel better.

"Why don't you go ahead and get in the back and I'll turn my head," I said.

She nodded and I turned my head and she got in the back seat. She laid down on her back as best she could and spread her legs as to say, "Come and fuck me."

I climbed over the seat doing my best not to crush her with a fall. I am six foot two and this is a Mercury Sable. Quarters are tight. I positioned myself where she had invited me and inserted my cock into her. We were finally having sex in a car...in the correct hole.

I moved in and out of her as she made calming moans. Usually I would focus on her breasts, but since we were out in public, we both still had our shirts on. I moved with a moderate rhythm and a circular motion that one of my black friends had told me to try. He must know what he was talking about because she started to moan louder in addition to telling me, "Keep doing that."

Having sex in a car is not all that it's cracked up to be. Especially when you are as tall as I was. I mean, I'm still that tall, but you know what I'm saying. The seat is small so you feel like you're going to fall off at any minute, and there is absolutely no where to put your legs and or feet. For the woman on the bottom, if she like to put her hands behind and above her head, like a lot of women do, there really nothing to grab onto in the place where they would usually grab onto a headboard. My point is it's fucking uncomfortable. Literally.

She continued to urge me to keep going in the circular motion that I had started, "Right there. Right there. Keep going."

Her moans turned louder as I thrust a bit harder keeping my same motion. I could feel the car moving side to side and up and down like I had seen in so many movies growing up. I thrust into her as she grabbed the door handle behind her. I put my hand behind her head so that she would bang it into the door. Her loud outbursts were turning to mild screams now, "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me," she commanded.