Spritely Sex

Not the first car I had sex in, but quite memorable just the same.

September, 1977. It was the night before I'd be leaving for my freshman year in college. I'd been searching for weeks for ganja but couldn't find any. It was a very "dry" summer.

As a last resort, I hitchhiked to a local head shop where this chick named Jackie worked. She was a friend of an old girlfriend, but I barely knew her, though I had gotten high with her a few times. You know you're desperate when you go to a head shop to find dope.

It took forever to catch a ride, so I didn't get there until shortly before the shop closed, and all Jackie would say inside the place was that she could help me out.

She had an over-the-top hippie-girl personality that I enjoyed doing my impression of. Even people who didn't know her thought it was hilarious. Now here she was going to do me a big favor, and I felt a bit guilty.

We walked out to her yellow Sprite, a miniature British sports car very similar to an MG Midget, and the tiniest automobile I've ever seen. She had to put the top down just for me to get my 6'2" self inside, and even then, I had to tuck my legs up underneath me in the passenger seat. I could barely breath, and, thankfully, we didn't have to drive far.

She pulled up into an apartment complex in the inner city where her connection lived. She parked on the dark back side, and we went in.

He had a huge brick of Afghani hash, the black kind that is somewhat moist and bendable and reeks all the way across the room. He loaded up a bowl, and we did it up. The shit was kick-ass potent, and I got extremely stoned.

A mid-level dealer, he wouldn't sell less than an ounce. That's 28 grams, and I'd never bought more than a gram before, which, at the time, went for $15 per, so I thought I wouldn't have nearly enough dough for a whole ounce.

Well, I watched Jackie peel five 20s from her jeans pocket for an ounce. At first, I figured I'd just buy a few grams from her, but I had exactly a hundred bucks on me and realized I'd only have to sell 7 grams to more than make my money back and keep 3/4 of an ounce to smoke for myself. So I got a whole ounce.

On the way back to her car, I told Jackie I'd previously only had blonde hash--which got you a "head high"---and this was the first time I'd ever smoked or even seen black hash. Unlike the blonde stuff, it got you truly stoned to the very marrow of your bones like sensimilla pot, only 10 times stronger.

The marijuana expert, Jackie agreed and explained that the reason was that black hash was made in a way that retained all the psychoactive cannabinoids of the plant with the resultant "full mind and body" effect.

As she spoke, I stood there by the Lilliputian car ogling Jackie. Though she had peculiar mannerisms, she was, in fact, a piece of ass: Long, straight, black hair and eyes. Flawless, smooth, porcelain-white skin. Perfect, navel orange size boobs with a bit of drape, braless as usual and slightly visible through the gauze top. Curvy yet slim hips and long slender legs stuffed in tight bell bottoms and Earth Shoes.

Picture Elvira in her younger days, and you've got a pretty good idea of what Jackie looked like.

She continued, "And one of those effects is horniness. Man, I don't think I've ever smoked anything that's made me so horny as this shit--you?"

I agreed, and ever so nonchalantly, she said, "Well, we really should do something about that, like right here right now."

I'd barely affirmatively nodded before she stuck her tongue down my throat while unzipping my jeans, fished out my cock to fondle it ever so fine, then squatted down and started sucking it!

As she did so, I sat down on the top edge of the car door and reached up beneath the loose top to play with her dangling tits, immediately bringing her dark nipples up to hard points. Damn, they were superb!

Jackie popped her mouth off me and stood up, wiggling her panties and jeans down to her ankles. In too much of a hurry to remove them, she turned around and bent forward over the door, pooching her tiny bottom out. I needed no invitation, so I immediately dropped to my knees on the parking lot to go down on her pussy buried deep in a jungle of black hair.

Wet to begin with, Jackie was soaking in no time, so, never bothering to drop trou, I screwed her doggie, banging her little blanch white ass bent over the door, her head right over the stick shift.

As I mentioned, it was dark on the back side of the apartment parking lot, but since we were nearly downtown, there was the hubbub of traffic and partiers hooting and hollering on the main thoroughfare just on the other side of the building. That was simultaneously erotic and terrifiying, for if we got busted, it would not only be public lewdness but also possession of an ounce each of hash, which is more than enough to indicate intent to sell.

She came quickly--moaning with the same beatnik brogue she had when speaking--and since it was almost midnight and I'd be leaving for college early the next morning, I let her rip and filled her quivering cunt with cream.

Before pulling up her jeans, Jackie casually stuffed a red bandana in her pussy to catch the cum oozing out, and I wedged myself in the passenger side for a ride home.

At my request, she dropped me off at the corner of my street; that way I would not have to concoct some fib to my parents, who would surely hear her noisy little car. There, I extricated myself from the motorized sardine can.

"Great dope, great sex! Have a great time in college, dude!" she said before giving me a hard kiss and an even harder slap on the ass, then sped off into the night.

No, we did not actually do it IN the car, but it was an integral prop nonetheless. And it was the most spontaneous—and spritely—sex I ever had.