Christine And The Mustang

This mostly happened and mostly as described.....

I'd had a successful year at work and been given a bonus. This was the first time I'd had such a reward and it seemed like a wonderful surprise (later the yearly bonus became part of the work culture and you almost expected it as part of your compensation) so I was pleased and proud.

It was such a special thing that I didn't think it was right to treat it as normal and put it away as savings. A bonus should be just that, something that allows you to do something out of the ordinary.

I'd been fancying the idea of getting a classic car as a weekend hobby and fun machine but couldn't decide what to get. I liked the idea of a traditional British sports car like an Austin Healey 3000 or Triumph TR5 or 6 but I knew good ones might be out of my price bracket and fixxer-uppers would sit on the drive for years while I tried to do the work.

Still, it was a good dream. The bonus wasn't enough to get the car itself so to help me decide I decided to spend the cash on membership of a Classic Car Club which had recently opened in the city. The deal was that for your membership fee and annual payment, you got a number of points which you could cash in for a day or a weekend of one of the stable of cars they had.

The cars were loosely classified as "Tools" or "Toys", the tools being the serious motors like the Porsche 928 or the Ferrari 308 and the toys being the playthings, like the Alfa Romeo GT Junior or the "Frogeye" Sprite. Of course, there was always some discussion as to which category a particular car fell in. Was an AC Cobra Replica a tool or a toy? Was a Porsche 944 a serious motor or a plaything? It didn't really matter, as long as you appreciated the car for what it was, didn't expect it to behave like a modern car and used it for some kind of appropriate purpose. I took a "Morse" Jaguar Mk 2 to take my daughter and her schoolfriends to a prestigious function in the City for example - a touch of luxury and class.

Christine egged me on in deciding to join the club, as a bit of fun, as a departure from normal boring life and a chance to experience some of the things I'd only talked about before.

The first car I cashed some points in for was a LHD 1967 Ford Mustang 350 coupe. Not the Shelby variant, just a regular 4.7 litre V8 (289 Cu In) engine with 4 speed manual gears. It's worth saying that none of the Club's cars were concours; they were all working examples and had been driven quite hard. This Mustang was no exception. Compared to any modern car (even in 1995), it was basic in instrumentation, creature comforts and technology. Air conditioning? Open the window! Stereo system? Just listen to the engine, you'll hear nothing over that! ABS? Don't be silly, just be thankful you've got any brakes at all.

The car looked great. Not pretty but raw and brutal. It was in Ford Blue with twin white stripes running along the centre of the car from bonnet to tail. Acceleration wasn't as good as my modern BMW but the way it delivered it was deafening and you felt it in every part of your body. The car would do 120mph on a straight road. I know because I found one late at night. However, it would take about 3 miles to stop and would only go round corners at a walking pace. I found that out by experience as well and felt that in my nerves the first time I tried to stop from speed.

I'd borrowed it to drive Christine up to her parents in the north. Around 200 miles and 4 hours. As I found out as well, about 2 refills of the petrol tank. This is not an eco-friendly car.

But Oh, what a noise, and what a rumble! It really stirred the senses and attracted looks like nothing else on the road tonight. I was thoroughly enjoying the drive and Christine's company so much, I forgot what Keith at the CCC said about there being not much gas in the tank. I also didn't realise how much petrol this thing drank so that we ran out of juice about 20 miles up the A1. I pulled up on the hard shoulder; fortunately there was a garage less than a mile away so I walked and got a can, topped the beast up and drove carefully round to the station to fill the tank full.

Christine didn't seem to mind - all part of the adventure - and then we made good progress towards the north. Before long, we got hungry and found the perfect place - Ed's Easy Diner! Complete with Airstream trailers and bright red neon signs, I think this may have been the first in the UK of this now well-known pseudo-American Diner chain cashing in on the Grease movie atmosphere.

I pulled in and we stoked up on burgers and coke. It was fully themed and the waitresses were cute teenagers in red ra-ra skirts, white bobby sox and plimsolls and tight fitting, cowboy-check blouses with plenty of buttons undone. We and the car got plenty of attention; "Is that yours?", "It looks fabulous", "How fast does it go?" I was getting seduced by the fantasy of 1960's America when sex was safe and guys with the cars got the girls.

Despite the lack of creature comforts in the classic American muscle car and the thin leather seats, Christine seemed to be quite enjoying the drive as we pulled away. She said how well I was driving and I didn't think it was entirely new lust flattery. I was getting used to what the car could do and was enjoying braking well before corners and roundabouts, powering the car through them and flooring the throttle as we clear them. The road was clear and traffic light.

As we drove up the road, Christine said "You fancied that girl in the diner didn't you? I could tell she fancied you. She was all over you, bobbing around on her white plimsolls and flashing her knickers as well as her eyes at you." She was wearing a simple white shirt and she started to unbutton it from the top. Her pale cream skin and the white blouse contrasted with the black bra she had on. She pushed her tits up so they stand out.

It was dusk now and I accelerated round one of the few corners on the road. The V8 roared and the whole car shook and throbbed.

"I love it when you do that. The car feels as though it might fall apart but it does something to the pit of my stomach." She pulled her blouse out of her jeans and thrust her hand down the front, not bothering to loosen the buttons. "I didn't like to tell you, but I was getting horny from well before the diner. Just feel this." She pulled her hand out and put it under my nose and to my lips. I could tell this wasn't pee from when she went to the toilet at the café. This was altogether more sticky, more earthy more tasty. She was properly soaked.

"When the girl was chatting you up, you went so red, I thought you were going to come in your pants. Do you like 16 year olds then?"

She put her right hand back down her jeans and began jilling off. Her left hand went onto my crotch and found the erection which had been growing there since she started talking about the girl at the diner, grew when she unbuttoned her blouse and reached full growth when she made me taste her pussy-foam.

I saw a layby coming up, a turn-off just off the road and screened from the road by a single line of trees.

I pulled in, parked the car and dragged Christine to me, forcing my tongue down her throat. I ripped the blouse she was wearing and tore the bra from her breast, pinching the nipple to make it stand up.

I leapt out of the car, ran round to the passenger door and met her as she climbed out. Her jeans came off with one pull and I upended her on the bonnet. The engine was still running so I could feel the throbbing of the engine at fast idle. Her jeans came off her legs and her thong came with them. Laid on her back, her pussy was exposed to the world, but mostly to me and it was wet! I unzipped, I grabbed her legs, forcing them in the air over my shoulders.

I wasn't thinking of the young blonde in the diner but yes, I had been turned on by her and I was steaming now.

I fucked her and fucked her and fucked her. She yelped and closed her eyes when I penetrated her and kept squealing and jumping as I pulled out and pushed in. She squashed her boobs with her hand and tried to get her hand between her legs to bring herself off. This wasn't rape, it was raw coupling and she was enjoying it. I fucked and fucked but wasn't going to last long. With a roar, my pulse matched the engine note as I came inside her.

There was a lot of wetness and I searched for her knickers to wipe up the mess. I really didn't care if she'd come at that point, this wasn't about her at that moment but she seemed satisfied that the animal passion had been slaked and that it was her I was fucking and not some Sandra Dee back at the diner.

She was still giving me sloe-eyed looks all the way to her parents and she did get her own later. If that was the effect one drive could have, I was going to enjoy my bonus year...