Ned halted her ministrations to his masculine altar. Gus rose, expecting more boob handling. Ned knelt and drew her bunched overalls over her magnificent ass and down her legs. Her panties were delicate and silky, unlike the sturdy spandex-reinforced bra.
Ned stood for their first kiss, a gentle reminder that he wanted her to enjoy this first meeting as much as he did. Message sent, he faced her to the front grill and leaned her over, forcing her to press her nipples firmly against the wax polished hood. He wiggled her shoulders, watching the compressed chest meat bulging and shifting beneath her ribcage, perfect shock absorbers for the bumpy ride ahead. He edged her dainty panties aside; his knob found her opening.
Gus spread her feet wider for stability. She reached wide and gripped the fenders, placing her cheek on the cold metal bonnet. Ned's first thrust was strong and the hip collision rammed her body forward. Her squashed breasts rolled beneath her torso. Ned rammed and retreated, testing the depth and texture of her vagina. Her boobs slid and squeaked on the stiff wax polish with each lunge.
Ned took some pity on her, realizing he could get a quickie doggy fuck from anyone anytime. What he really wanted was to feel her tits caress his cock. He pulled her up and hustled her into the back seat. She laid herself out, habitually aware of every new mate's initial cravings. Ned straddled her belly, laying his phallic tube between her mammary meats. Her skin was blushed from the cold metal wax burns.
Gus propped her tits together around his prick. He was still slick from her vaginal juices and their moves were easy. Ned was irregular with his long strokes. Gus was skilled at this routine; she had practiced a lot with the coach tutors at the Academy: in bed, on lounges, sprawled on the pool deck. But this was her first time jammed into a car's backseat. The confined space gave her an extra challenge, yet her experience told her what to do.
Once, at a TWA-arranged elite fund raising event, she had been the center of attention on the dance floor, her unfettered boobs bounding to the disco beat beneath her shimmery nightclub dress. Her pledge contributor sponsor, goaded by her suggestive cavorting, had hastily stripped her topless on the dance floor, lay her out and satisfied himself in her prone cleavage. He dismounted and ordered the spunk-spattered blonde to pull a boob-job train for his guests. She complied, well-practiced in the ways to tongue tickle each successive man's tip until he came powerfully on her face and her rumpled blonde tresses.
Gus likewise worked that magic now on Ned's cock until he finally blew his spunk on her chin and neck, quenching his initial fantasy zeal. He collapsed on her upper body, getting cum smears on his belly. She hugged his ass close, entombing his dying prick in her chesty mounds, resting from her own exertions. Ned recovered his wits and checked her condition in metaphor.
"How's the engine now? Is she ready to cruise around the block?"
"She's primed and raring to go" Gus murmured her assurance.
They toddled naked and gooey to her assigned bedroom, giggling all the way. At the bottom of the stairs, Ned gallantly indicated that Gus should lead the way. On the first step, he slapped her ass; she whooped at the sudden smack. Jogging the steps, she scampered ahead, Ned in hot pursuit. He chuckled at the peek-a-boob sidewinders that her bounding stride produced. He chased her down the short hallway and captured her from behind in a boob groping hug as she struggled to open her assigned bedroom door.
Tumbling inside, she untangled and jumped onto the large central bed. Ned climbing on behind her. The boudoir walls were covered with mirrored glass. They romped naked on the bed and posed for the multiple reflections. The various angles gave Ned spectacular repeating views of her juicy cunt and mouth.
Ned recalled the dozens of postures from the vintage garage art. He maneuvered Gus into his interpretations of the pinup poses, sans advertised machinery. He positioned his own body as he would for sex with the staged model. They tested his ability to penetrate her feminine orifices in the proposed positions. They found some arrangements impossible for decent coitus. Ned consoled himself by playing with her always available tits, tweaking the erect nipples.
In some downward positions, Gus bent over him and dipped her nipples against his erection. He fluffed the weighty masses. When on her back, Ned found incentives to flutter his fingers on the sides, delighting in the liquid waves rippling across her chest. Sitting her upright, he spooned behind her, pinching the nubs as he nibbled her neck. When he made her hold a particular pose, his prick nimbly probed her pussy or mouth, testing his ability to get depth and control of the strokes.
The foreplay was inventive to say the least. Gus fell into her role with abandon, forgetting to give only controlled demonstrations of her capabilities. Ned let her push him to the edge before he reluctantly halted the action. Even still, he inadvertently came twice during the run-throughs: once in her mouth and the second time in her hand. During an exceptional blowjob, Gus rebelled when he signaled her to desist. Instead, she sucked more deeply and triggered his pre-mature spend. The second time, after a vigorous hand job where she failed to heed his stop-work order, she lapped up the male elixir spilled on his belly.
In the pre-dawn finale, he finished her off with a traditional missionary position. He hugged her torso, crushing her heaving boobs between his biceps and chest. Her bountiful breasts buoyed his body. The all night workout had wearied him and occasionally he paused while inserted, his full weight pressing on her body as he briefly caught his breath. He was thrilled when she took those opportunities to demonstrate her talented vaginal muscles, keeping him primed by massaging his cock with compressions even when he was motionless inside her.
By dawn, the exhausted Ned had handled and analyzed Gus in all kinds of distorted alignments. He looked forward to returning to his favorites during the coming month. Gus had similar thoughts as she bade Ned farewell when he departed to his next duty call.
