Friday, May 19, 2006

Convertible Kitten

I didnt know what an MG was until my friend lost his virgnity to me in his. I also found that it was a tiny little coup, a hot coup, but tiny. It was a 1967, cherry red Mg convertible and drove like a bat out of hell...but with more wings. It slid down hills, the wheels didnt seem to touch anything. You may not realize it, but from all my contact with guys, either friend or lover, Ive found a love of cars. I think it all happened when I was tiny and my dad was auto-obsessed and always in the garage on the weekends. Greasy rags always remind me of being little, sitting on my dad's motorcycle and smelling all the oil and grease and lubes, static radio waves in my ears. Though I dont have many fond memories envolving my father, these are always good ones.

1967 MG

On a Friday night in the So Cal winter, I went out with my friend Greg. I had strapped up my knee length boots, slid on fence net thigh highs and a black pleated skirt. Greg commented that it was too bad that we were just friends....indeed. We didnt know what to do and neither of us was in extreme-party-mode. So we slid in the tight little MG to an old park in our neighborhood and talked for hours. Greg and I were good, old friends. We'd met in second grade and I use to run around trying to kiss him, and he would try to explain multiplication to me. Needless to say, neither of us achieved extraodrinarily well at either task. Id been there when he went through hard times and vice-versa.

As it always does with me, the topic slipped to sex and his lack of it. We were both seventeen and when we were twelve we had made a pact that if by the age of sixteen and both of us were still virgins, we'd have sex with each other. Well, I had already lost my virginity the year before to a Marine, but Greg was still in No-Pussy Land. So giggling, I told him we should make good on our pact. He needed no further permission and began at once tugging on my lips with his and gently raking them with his teeth.

I admit I wasnt really turned on at first, he was my childhood best friend. Soon though, reason gave way to my pounding kitten and I began kissing him back. His timid hands came up to my breasts, my throat and touched me, trying to figure what to do. For lack of experience and overwhelming anxiety, he untethered his cock and waited for something to happen.

No, you cant just "do it". The girl always needs something, touch me.

I slid my panties down over my thigh highs and boots, and lifted my skirt and bit over my thighs. His warm hands slipped over my thighs, feeling my soft skin, he pinched my thigh a little making me giggle, my cheeks flushing. When his hands found kitten, a let out a little happy hum and settled in my seat, his body leaning over the shifter and centerconsole. Soon, his gentle touching get kitten worked up, my whimpers coming close together and causing me to bite my bottom lip. He brought his fingers away from circling my clit and pressed them to his lips. Why does that always get me? I must be a dirty, dirty girl.

With much giggling, I found my way over the shift knob (with a split-second whore thought: What if I just slipped down over it? But then recoiled.) and put a knee on either side of his legs, leaning into his seat. As I lowered myself down onto his hard cock, my ass tapped the horn, sending a bleating through the late misty night. I couldnt help my laughter from bubbling up,

You do realize we're about to fuck in the smallest car in the world, and my ass just honked the horn at like 3 a.m. in suburbia? Someone's going to call the cops!

At that, he busted up as well, our laughter filling the tiny interior of the car. His hot lips pressed to mine and he touched my face, his face becoming serious and thoughtful. As he was looking at me and pondering the mysteries of the universe , I slid down onto him. His eyes closed and a look of surprise filled his expression. His cock was so hard and ready, so long. My small moans began as I pressed down on him to the hilt and pressing against him, made circles, grinding him so deeply. His hands were on my lower back, pressing against me, he was lost in it all. I smiled and closed my eyes, my face tipping up as I enjoyed the moment. He touched my face and when I looked down at him, his eyes were imploring. His kiss was perfect, the moment was just as it should be. His lips moved heated against mine, his hands sliding under my shirt and massaged gingerly at me, feeling the movement of my body that was just for him. I pressed my forehead to his as he came, his mouth open slightly and issueing little gasps, little moans.

He wrapped his arms around me then, his face in my neck. My hands went through his hair, feeling him soften inside me. His lips were so slick when he pressed them aganst mine, it felt like a kiss of thanks. My hands were cool as I sat in the passenger seat, driving back through the misty night and back to my house. His fingers tapped out the beats to the rock on the radio, he smiled at me and held my hand for a few moments before shifting yet again.

A few months later Greg got a girlfriend, she found I was the one who had taken his virginity and then told him if he still wanted to be with her that he would never talk to me again. He actually did as she told him to. It seems she didnt like me too much, maybe it was jealousy, vulnerability. Im still sad when I think of it, I did love him so much, he was such a sweet guy, such a good friend. Maybe one day we'll link up again when he's come into his own. I can only guess.

My mind flicks back to when we were younger and use to surf together. The fish scaring me as I saw them silhouetted in the waves, little black blots against the pearly blue water. Like glass, you could see through the wave. He held my hand as we struggled up and over the waves, heading in the direction of the open water, the sun sparkling on the surface of the water. I asked him that day,

Greg, we'll always be buds, right? You'll always love me?

He laughed, his hand smoothing his hair out of his eyes before reaching across the water to me and squeezing my hand,

Don't worry, I will as long as you say so. You're the boss.

Sometimes I really wish I was the boss, that I could decide to see him, to talk to him. People make decisions everyday that shut others out, sometimes I wish people would just live life for themselves. Maybe it's my foolishness for thinking that we could stay friends after sex, for some people, it changes their thinking. I wish he had lived for himself and seen that our friendship meant enough to hold onto to.

"I dont want you to know where I am,
Cuz then youll see my heart and the saddest day its ever been...
And this is no place to try and live my life...
It's the very moment I wish that I could take back..." -Relient K


No comments: