He released his cock slowly, as if he was taking the paw of a lover, though the car was a far more steadfast partner than any lover in the world ever could have been. Luxuriously, he leaned into his inclinations, taking the pink, fleshy length of his shaft into his paw, closing his fingers around it. Yet his attention was not fully on masturbating, of course, as the winding, smooth, sweeping country roads teased back and forth, offering him a view up the mountains, the sun halfway to the horizon already in the mid-afternoon. Autumn was the perfect time to get out and about, though he teased himself, keeping the pace of everything slow and steady, the growl of the powerful beast he drove yearning to show the lion what it could do.
If he didn't hold it back, of course. But he was too intent on his pleasure, panting, nose tipping forward as his man grew a little more ruffled from shifting his weight constantly. He had to concentrate on the road too, though that was increasingly difficult as he put it in auto, ignoring the gear stick at least for the moment, one paw on the steering wheel and the other quite firmly on his cock.
"Yes... Oh, baby, what are you doing to me?"
Better than any woman, the car purred under him, cruising down the road, the light hitting the sweeping valley just right, showing him the undulations of the hills, up to the mountains where their peaks were doused in clouds. The land was rough and rugged, but remote work had given him a better place than ever for a car enthusiast to live, moaning, stroking his cock more and more swiftly as the sound of his paw moving along his length filled the vehicle. It could not overwhelm, however, the purr of the engine, that comforting rumble that was so persistent and consistent at the same time.
It was all he needed, that sensation, the car feeding back to him through the seat, the feel of the wheel between his paws, grunting and gasping, losing himself in the moment. It was just for him, only for him, no one else there to take any of it away, not when he had everything that he could ever have wanted right there in the lust for a BMW i8.
The glow of the late afternoon sunshine was all he needed, cruising down the road, his paw working his length over. His breathing grew increasingly heavy, the tug of it within his chest erotic in itself.
"Yeah, baby... You're doing such things to me. Terrible, naughty things..."
There were so many things he could do with the car. Cumming on the bonnet would be erotic and yet he didn't want to damage the paintwork, imagining painting his load across the steering wheel, how it would drip down. Yet his love and lust for the car went far, far beyond sullying it as he moaned and moaned, his hind paw inching down on the accelerator, faster and faster, pushing on, intent on chasing that high that was not particularly elusive at all.
It would come. All he had to do was to get there.
Yet it was with the rumble of the engine tremble through him that he let it roar, exhaust snarling beautifully, his heart lurching at just the right moment and his lust sharply ramping up. He didn't want to stop the lure of his orgasm, not even as he pawed off furiously, cum spurting wildly, splattering the steering wheel, his thighs, dripping down into the footwell of the car, though he was powerless to stop it. His roar did not surpass the power that was the car, the sporty surge of it forward, taking him along with it as if the car too was exulting in the delight of his orgasm.
Alas, he came down from his high too quickly, returning to his senses, though the glow of orgasm softened around him, as if he was leaning back into a heated seat, panting and whimpering, making all manner of sounds that a lion like him really should not have been. He ran his paw lightly over the wheel, shaking a little, his free paw wiping off on his slacks, which were, to be fair, completely ruined. Maybe he should have thought about that before pawing off in the best car that he'd ever owned, but that was not apt to bother him all that much.
He'd buy new slacks. But he'd forever treasure his BMW i8, pouring and lavishing attention over it, polishing it to a shine, making sure that it was always washed and gleaming and clean. Taking it on Sunday drives, just so his best girl could get out and see the open road, the feel of leather under his paw as he took her in hand. The smooth exterior would squeak as he ran his fingers over it, as clean as a whistle, and he would be overcome with lust, once again, with the rumble of the engine dominating his mind.
He groaned, leaning back more, the seat shifting with him. Despite everything, he wasn't quite done with his "test drive" yet.
Not quite yet.