An accident is violent and intrusive upon the lives of those involved. Energy, mass, speed, penetration, thrusting and impact is present in both collisions and sexual intercourse. There is tension and release in both acts. The orgasm itself is symbolic as a release from life, or a death, if you will. The French have a saying for the orgasm, "Le Petite Morir" (I am not sure about the French spelling), but it means "a little death." In a way we die a little as we achieve an orgasm. We go limp or exhale all the breath from our lungs. It is very similar to death in many ways. The moment of death, especially a violent one, must be the most emotionally and physically exerting experience to be had by a living being. The combined fear and exhilaration of knowing that a quick, violent death is imminent must be very stimulating to the senses. Some pee or soil themselves in a scary situation or just before a crash. They let loose all inhibitions and cognizant thought. Life is a building experience, full of peaks and valleys. People are always building towards something in life and there are successes and failures. There is tension and stress in life. Death is a release from life. Life is a lot like sex. Sex is a building experience and there is tension and friction. It builds to a climax and like death, the orgasm is the release. I equate the after life with the basking in the glow of an extremely satisfying post sexual experience. I believe that the feelings must be similar. Am I looking forward to death? Absolutely not. But I do not fear the prospect of death.
Collisions are the forced intersection of two or more parties or conveyances, whether intended or not. Unintended events are called accidents. People meet accidentally all the time. Sometimes they meet on the road and in cars. Generally, people sit while driving or riding in cars. Their legs are generally parted and relaxed. Their genitals are usually exposed and protected only by thin layers of material that make up their clothes or undergarments. For women, the layers of protection are further minimized. Women's clothing tends to be thinner and their underwear more daintier or skimpier. Many women wear skirts and dresses when they go out or go to work. Most of the time only a thin layer of cotton, nylon, silk, satin, or lace protect their precious mounds. Sometimes women wear no panties at all, offering no protection in the event of a spontaneous impact. People drive around seated forward with their legs parted. This is a very sexually suggestive posture. When a collision occurs, contact is made between the cars and there is a sort of a connection made between the occupants, especially in a head on collision. The contact is felt and transferred through the cars. Front bumpers come in contact first. The forward momentum forces the drivers or occupants into their steering columns or dashboards (nowadays, airbags). In essence the occupants of one car makes sexual contact with those in the other. The cars are the vehicles that facilitate that symbolic sexual intercourse between people involved. But the vehicles get in the way like a prophylactic, which prohibits the flesh to flesh intimacy, in most cases. Post-crash postures of victims can be quite erotic. Many times people are slumped forward and legs are spread wide open. Women tend to slide out of their skirts and dresses leaving them on the seats behind them. This leaves their panties, pantyhose, or bare bottoms exposed for all witnesses and rescuers to see. Those of us with voyeuristic natures feel the overwhelming desire to take a peek at this type of vulnerable victim.
One time, my husband and I were driving down a dark and lonely country road. Up ahead we saw a car off the side of the road. It had crashed into a huge oak tree. There was no one around. We stopped to see if anyone was inside and in need of assistance. There was a young couple in their late teens in the car. The man's face was bloody and he was barely conscious. The front windshield was shattered and the smell of alcohol permeated the crumpled car's interior. The young man's zipper burst open upon impact exposing his hefty package which was contained in white cotton briefs. The groin of his black pants was wet with urine. Obviously, he pissed himself as the smell of ammonia mixed with that of the alcohol. The young woman next to him was completely unconscious. Her face was covered in blood and her hair was matted with the viscous fluid. She settled far forward in her seat and her bare knees were pinned up beneath the dash. She wore a short black skirt, which she slid out of during the crash. It was all gathered up around her waist. This caused her pink satin panties to be exposed.
Due to the angle of her legs, blood from her lacerated knees dripped back up her thighs and pooled at her crotch. The shiny pastel pink material of her once pretty panties was stained with a crimson splotch of blood right at her triangular gusset. My husband called 9-1-1 on his cell phone. The girl regained consciousness and began to cry hysterically. I tried to comfort her until help arrived. I was genuinely concerned for her, but I was ashamed that I could not refrain from looking at her bloody panties and her boyfriend's wet, white package bulging out of his trousers. We learned that the couple had just come from a college fraternity party. The man drank too much, fell asleep, and ran off the road. Fortunately, the couple survived. We developed a friendship with the girl afterwards. She still sends us a Christmas card every year. She never knew that I became shamefully aroused at the sight of her bloody panty covered pussy in her careless boyfriend's crushed car. I wondered how she would react if I told her. Later that night the crash, my husband and I made mad passionate love. If he only knew the perverse thoughts I had during our lovemaking.
Rear end collisions are very sexual as well. Symbolically, the offending rear ender "butt fucks" the unsuspecting victim from behind. It is like a forced sodomy or intercourse from behind. These types of collisions do not turn me on too much. I think mostly of head on crashes. They are the most stimulating for me. Roll over crashes and tumbling off hillsides comes next. I relish the thought of my bruised pussy or tits being bounced and jostled around the interior of a rolling vehicle. In bus, train, and plane crashes, I think of myself being bound in my seat by a confining seatbelt. Hmmm? Does this mean I am into bondage too? I do like being restrained during sex. During the impact, the seats give away from the floor and my breasts get pinned between the seat back in front of me and my wide opened and vulnerable pussy gets crushed against the uprooted, jagged leg of the seat or seats in front of me. All force of the crash and impact is focused on my pussy. I don't think of fiery collisions. I am scared to death of a burning death. But I do think of a catastrophic explosion during a crash, especially in a jet plane. I envision the intense heat and force of a powerful fireball erupting through the fuselage and centering on my clit and vagina. I cum at the moment the huge fireball penetrates my vaginal opening. I would envision my pussy exploding from the heat and pressure, then I black out. Sometimes, I get that sensation when my husband fills my pussy and fucks me to the point where I feel as though my pussy will explode. He loves it when I tell him that my pussy is going to explode.
For years, my husband knew nothing of my bizarre sexual fantasies. I concealed them from him out of fear of rejection and humiliation. But I loved him and trusted him totally. About three years ago, we introduced sexual fantasies into our lovemaking. Mostly we had erotic discussions and story telling. The Literotica site has given us loads of material for this practice. Eventually, I casually integrated a car crash fantasy during a story involving mutual masturbation of a couple while driving on a lonely highway. The story involved my husband as the driver and me as the passenger seated at his side. We actually engaged in mutual masturbation as I told the story. When I described the crash and my pussy and his penis being dashed upon various parts of the car interior, we both came simultaneously. My husband shot high into the air. I never saw him spurt so high. I was relieved to know that the whole thing did not sicken him. He said it was a bit weird, but it made him get off real good. I introduced other crash stories incrementally and he has grown to love and share my odd fetish as well.
As I mentioned before, I love to masturbate while driving. I drive an older sports car that pre-dates those bothersome airbags. They are another form of prophylactic, which interferes with the feeling of close contact. I love the plush leather seats in the car. The smell and feel of leather is such a turn on for me. I like how my ass feels as it sinks down in the soft cushioned seats. I love the heavy roar of the engine. The vibration enters my pussy that rests snuggly on the seat and it courses throughout my body. I get a little wet from the vibration. I like to wear short skirts or dresses for easy access with one hand while I drive with the other. I love to caress my plump, pretty pussy over my usual white panties of various styles and materials. When I drive, I sit up forward in my seat and part my legs very wide, so that my precious mound is only mere inches from the bottom wrung of the steering wheel. Sometimes I press my soft meaty mound into the hard steering wheel. I love when my clit comes in contact with the wheel. The steering column is so erect and rigid like a big stiff cock, poised and ready to penetrate my tender pussy. The padded horn and the rim of the steering wheel make up the enormous mushroom shaped cock head. I drive fast and recklessly, half hoping to crash and having my pretty little mound being thrust upon the steering wheel with tremendous force. I think about the entire steering column ripping through my panties and invading my tight vagina. My tiny little box takes in the whole column. My clit smashes into the hard leather dash and bursts apart. I would cum immediately upon impact. I would feel like the buckling interior of the car is raping me. Wet, warm blood trickles down from my clit into my vaginal crevice. It drips through my crack and pools down in my perineum. The blood seeps out of my tidy white panties. My breasts get smashed against the steering wheel. My sensitive nipples get impinged between the hard wheel and my ribs. My fleshy breasts give away under the intense pressure and burst open. My bulbous boobs tear out of my white lace bra and flop freely about. The pain to my pussy and breasts is burning hot. But it feels so good!
