I rolled through the stop sign on Botsford Road at about thirty miles an hour. But this time it was different. This time I wasn't driving my old Taurus. This time I was driving my Wimbledon White 1966 Mustang coupe with the twin blue racing stripes down the hood. And this time, when I dropped it into second gear and let out the clutch, the rear tires squealed and the back end kicked out.
Cal laughed. He was sitting in the seat beside me. I ran up through the gears. The engine roared. Botsford was a lonely stretch of road between the farmlands where I lived and Sutton Township, and the tall pines on either side whipped by in a blur.
"Troy, dude, this car is awesome," Cal said, and laughed again.
I grinned because he didn't know just how awesome it was. The big curve was coming up before the last long stretch of road into Sutton. I touched the brake to bring the speed down a bit and downshifted from fourth to third. The Mustang dug into the turn like it was on a rail. I feathered the gas to keep it dug in. The tires squeaked just a bit to let me know they were hanging just on the edge.
"Jesus Christ!" Cal shouted.
He held the door handle with one hand and the edge of the dashboard with the other. I glanced down at the speedometer. It hovered around eighty. That was pretty good. The best I could manage around that curve in my old Taurus was about thirty five.
About halfway through the curve I felt the tires starting to bite. I stuck my foot in the gas and the Mustang dug in harder. It pulled hard through the rest of the curve and launched down the last stretch into Sutton. The speedometer only went up to 120. It was buried when we passed the Chamber of Commerce sign. Cal was laughing the whole way.
"Oh my God. That was the coolest thing I ever saw," he said.
We rolled into Sutton Township going just under the 35 mph speed limit down Elba Road. There was no way anyone could tell we had just been running more than 100 mph over that speed, especially not the cops. It was a Friday night and everyone in Sutton who had a hot rod was driving it up and down Elba Road. And with them came the cops.
We rolled for a while. It was fun to be a part of the cruise on Elba instead of sitting on the side, watching and wishing. I knew this day would come, the day I would finally get my Dad's sweet little Mustang back on the road. It just took a little longer than I anticipated.
The Dickey's Coney Island was at the south end of Elba Road, by the river. This was the place Cal and I went just about every Friday night to suck down a couple of coney dogs, check out the sweet hot rods that packed the parking lot, and get our fill of the eye candy. Tonight there were girls everywhere. It was a warm summer night, and it was like they all came out looking for a good time.
Cal and I circled the parking lot a couple of times, looking for a spot to park, but also checking out the girls. There were so many hot chicks it was hard to pay attention to where I was driving.
A lot of people checked us out as we went by. Mine was the new car, and everybody liked to check out the new ride. It was pretty cool to finally be on the other side.
"You see one you like?" I said.
"You mean do I see one I don't like. What about you?"
"Yeah, that one," I said, and pointed at a chick who was bent over the open trunk of an old Corvette. She was wearing a very short, pleated skirt, and we had a clear view of how her tiny panties barely covered her ass.
"Yeah, this is hot," Cal said.
The place was full of girls like that. It was like an early Christmas. We circled around the parking lot and a spot opened where an old Dodge pulled out. Cal and I went inside to get something to eat.
The girl behind the counter was new. She picked a busy night to start working. She was real nice, though, when she took our order. Usually I got a footlong coney dog and onion rings. Today I ordered a bacon cheeseburger an fries. Today I was trying new things.
All the booths and tables were filled. That didn't matter, though. Cal and I took our food out to the Mustang to eat. There was no more hiding because we were a pair of schmucks in a Taurus. Tonight we were the cool guys in the Mustang. It didn't take long to notice the difference.
"Check that out," Cal said.
I had just taken a big bite of my bacon cheeseburger and I had mayonnaise on both cheeks. At first I didn't see her. But how could I not notice her? She was a curvy blonde in tight cutoff shorts, and she was headed toward us.
"Sweet Jesus, don't make me lose it now," Cal said.
I felt the same. My burger nearly caught in my throat. This girl had a sweet, angelic face with a tiny nose, and big boobs under her snug, short t-shirt with a flower on the front. Her boobs jiggled and swayed under her shirt like she wasn't wearing a bra.
She walked up to my side of the Mustang and smiled.
"Hi. This is your Mustang?" she said.
"Yeah," I said.
"It's cool. My Daddy has one like this. Only, his is yellow," she said.
"Does he drive it around here?" I said.
She shook her head and her boobs jiggled.
"Only on Sundays after church. When it's not raining," she said.
"Does he take you for a ride in it?" I said.
I glanced at Cal. He was staring at her with his mouth hanging open like a goober. I hoped he didn't ruin this for me. She stood right next to the Mustang and leaned down into my window. The top of her shirt opened and I could look right down at her bare boobs. She definitely wasn't wearing a bra.
"Every Sunday after church we get ice cream. He drives too slow, though. I like fast Mustangs. They get me hot," she said in a matter-of-fact tone like she was talking about her homework. Her fingers absently touched her chest between the swollen mounds of her boobs.
I felt a surge between my legs and had to sit up straight. This was my lucky night. This little doll was so innocent and sweet, and yet clearly horny. After so many lonely nights, finally I had a chance to get lucky, and it was all because of my Mustang. All those long nights of hard work were about to pay off.
She had soft gray eyes, thick, pouty lips with pale lipstick, and long, fine blonde hair past her shoulders. The thought of doing nasty things with this sweet girl made me burn with desire, and rock hard between my legs.
"What's your name?" I said.
"Cory. What's yours?"
"Troy. You wanna go for a ride?"
She frowned. "I don't know. Is it a fast car?"
"Fastest Mustang around here," Cal said.
Cory's face lit up. "Ok. Where do I sit?"