The V8, The Redhead and The Hot-Rod

Introduction:
“Davey, we need to talk.”
Gabrielle was sitting in her “Serious Discussion” position. David was lying on his back and she was sitting on his pelvis facing him, her feet on either side of his body. Her golden orange hair cascaded to her shoulders. Her delicately beautiful pale face was highlighted by her big green eyes. Gabrielle was tall and fashion model slim.
At this time she was also naked. Her pink aureoles contrasted with her immaculate pale skin. Her firm, orange sized breasts pointed straight at David’s eyes.
Her long slender thighs were apart and her knees were drawn back a little towards her chest. As she was leaning back slightly, her shaven pussy was openly displayed and her outer labia were slightly parted. If David had been looking he would have seen the glistening pink rims of her inner labia.
However David wasn’t looking. His eyes were closed as he was savouring the intense pleasure sensations surging from his cock which was embedded deeply into Gabrielle’s ass.
“David!” Gabrielle’s voice and frown were stern. “Open your eyes and listen. This is important. And you, Lord Vlad, don’t you dare start moving.”
“Lord Vlad” was Gabrielle’s pet name for David’s cock. She enjoyed history and had read about the 15th century Romanian duke, Vlad the Impaler. This original Vlad had earned his nickname from his unattractive habit of killing his enemies by impaling them with a blunt stake through their rectums.
David hadn’t felt flattered by her choice but decided that he couldn’t really object. Gabrielle took great delight in being impaled by her Lord Vlad, very frequently, in her vagina and mouth as well as her rectum.
David could not conceive of anything more beautifully, wantonly erotic as he opened his eyes and looked at her. With a supreme effort of willpower he switched his mind from sex to conversation. He knew that if his cock as much as twitched, Gabrielle would bounce down hard and painfully on his balls.
“OK Gabby, shoot. What do you want to talk about?”
“What are we going to do with our money?”
His business was flourishing. Internet sales were growing, David’s car audio shop was now the place for boyracers to buy their gear. The up-market business was going well and he had branched out into profitable sidelines: fashion sunglasses and a limited range of domestic audio.
He had paid off the most expensive part of his debt and had been able to renegotiate the balance on far more favourable terms.
Gabrielle had earned more money than she had dreamed of. Her salary as marketing director for his firm and sales commissions had built a healthy bank balance.
He looked at her adoringly. He owed so much to her. Before she had a come to work at his firm on a college assignment he had been a depressed alcoholic with his marriage failing, his business failing and had been within a few months of bankruptcy. It was her ideas, her inspiration and most of all her absolute confidence in him which had changed his fortunes.
“Are you going to buy an apartment?”
“No way.” David was cautious after coming so close to bankruptcy. “Things are looking great but I’m not going to take on a commitment like that. And we both seem to like it here.”
She looked around the small bedroom. It was tidy, but certainly not luxurious. She had always been happy here with David and never wanted anything more. She knew she would be happy anywhere provided David was there. She owed as much to David as he did to her.
Gabrielle’s childhood had been blighted by her strict mother who did everything she could to undermine her self confidence and make her mistrust men. Her only two sexual experiences had been humiliating disasters and confirmed her mother’s advice. David had brought out her self confidence. And her sexual desire. For him.
She looked down at him. Since he had stopped drinking and started exercising, he had lost weight and looked 10 years younger than when she had first met him. He was 15 years older but she never thought about the age difference. Physically he was perfect and she loved everything about him.
“Well, I am going to hire another salesman. We’ve both been working 12/7.” We don’t seem to do anything except work and fuck,” said David.
“I’m not complaining.”
“There is something I thought I might buy for the business.”
“Oh, what is it?
“I’ll show you. . . . After. . . . ”
“After this?” She squeezed his erection with her bowel, then changed her position slightly to give him room to move and thrust.
David watched as she rode his cock and as her excitement grew. Her small breasts jiggled with her movements. Her head was thrown slightly back, her eyes closed, her lips were parted and she had an expression combining agony and ecstacy. His cock was in paradise, buried deep in her tight, smooth walled ass.
“Darling Davey,”she groaned, thrusting her backside down to take him deeper.
David used a finger to excite her clitoris which was becoming more engorged. Gabrielle’s movements became more frantic, small beads of perspiration appeared above her upper lip. David restrained his own desperate urge to come and concentrated on her.
Gabrielle’s pelvic rotations became even more frantic and her groans became shrieks as her orgasm consumed her vagina and bowel. She collapsed onto his chest, quivering, shuddering and exhausted.
When she recovered she moved to between his knees and knelt over his cock, looking at it closely.
“Hello Lord Vlad. Where have you been hiding?”
She sucked the knob and licked her lips.
“I can tell. You’ve been where the sun don’t shine.”
She reverentially licked all over his still rock-like cock and all over his testicles. She looked up at David and smiled, opened her mouth wide and took him, balls deep, into her throat. She now knew what drove him wild and for the next five minutes fully rewarded Lord Vlad for his efforts. Sometimes she tenderly licked, other times she pushed David’s knob down her throat.
She speeded her movements and sucked even harder. When he started to come she pulled back. A rope-like squirt of semen sprayed onto her face.
She lowered her head again and gently licked the receding cock.
“Bye bye Lord Vlad. You can come again soon.”
They drove to “Panther’s Panebeaters”. Mark Panther had been a friend of David’s for some years and they had referred business to each other. Panther, as he was known, had been dismayed by David’s business and personal decline.
He had visited David when Gabrielle had just started to work for him. They were sitting at their desks with their backs to each other. David had introduced her. The first thing Panther had noticed was her haunted look and how she couldn’t look him in the eye. Then he noticed her hair tied in an unflattering bun, no make-up and dowdy, shapeless clothing. He also noticed how she made no attempt to talk to him or David.
The same scenario the next time Panther visited. Perhaps she and David were a bit more polite to each other.
On the third visit Gabrielle’s appearance was unchanged, but now she and David laughed. David had lost weight and was wearing fashionable new clothes.
“Are you fucking her?” Panther had asked when Gabrielle had left the office.
“Hell no. It’s purely business. I’m far too old for her. And scarecrows aren’t my style.”
Perhaps Panther had a more educated eye for women. Her beautiful smile was radiant and obvious and Panther suspected something more.
“I think you may be surprised one day, David.”
When he next met them he hadn’t been surprised by the obvious relationship between her and David. But he hadn’t anticipated the extraordinarily beautiful young woman who had emerged. He also hadn’t anticipated her selling skills as she easily persuaded him to spend $1,500 more than he had intended for his new car sound system. In five minutes.
Panther took them to his workshop.
“Here it is,” he said. There was pride in his voice.
Gabrielle wondered what he was talking about All she could see was a delapidated old wreck of a car.
“’71 Chev Camaro. 350 V8. High-back Strato seats.”
Gabrielle could still only see a run down wreck.
“The engine goes a treat.”
He started it and even Gabrielle sensed something in the rumble of the eight cylinders.
“Here’s what it’ll look like when it’s finished.” Panther opened a magazine.
Gabrielle understood more. A muscle car. Masculinity on wheels. The styling might be dated, but there was a timeless strength and virility. She became interested and took the magazine from Panther to read some more.
Panther and David went into a discussion about dollars.
“Hit me with the bad news Panther.”
“This what it cost me to buy this.”
David whistled.
“Here’s the cost of the replacement parts which are needed.”
David inhaled sharply.
“Here’s the cost of the work I’ll have to outsource.”
David was starting to worry. “Now the hard part. What about the cost of your work?”
“I want to discuss a deal about that.”
Gabrielle came over, her eyes glowing.
“Davey, it’ll be beautiful when it’s finished. Treat yourself. And you know it’ll be good for business.”
He nodded. It would be like a magnet for every boyracer and their fathers for 100 kilometers. And he could get a tax break.
“What color do you think?”
“I’ll need you to be here when we mix the paints.”
“Why?” asked Gabrielle..
“So we can match this.” Panther discretely touched her golden-orange hair.
“What do you think Davey?”
“Couldn’t be better. Now Panther, how much is it going to cost for your work?”
“Well, it’s a big job . . . “
David gave an exaggerated sigh. He was used to Panther’s negotiating techniques.
“And good staff are expensive . . . “
David yawned.
“But I won’t charge you anything. On one condition.”
“You can’t do that Panther. There’s hundreds of hours work here,” David protested.
“What’s the condition?” asked Gabrielle thinking faster than David.
Panther looked sheepish. “It involves you Gabrielle.”
“What?” asked David, not liking the sound of this. He knew Panther was fascinated by Gabrielle.
“When the car is finished, I want a photographer to take shots of it, with you Gabrielle, for my business calendar.
“Panther! I don’t do nude poses for anyone.” Gabrielle was shocked. “Well, except for my darling Davey of course,” she quickly added.
“Gabrielle, you can wear exacly what you want to and you can pose how you want to. No conditions.”
“Wear what I want and pose how I want?” Gabrielle gave Panther one her stern frowns.
“That’s the deal.”
“Done.” She shook his hand and gave Panther one of her radiant smiles.
She looked at her watch. “Come on Davey, we’ve got to go. I promised Lord Vlad I’d meet him tonight.”
“Who is this Lord Vlad?” Panther asked out of her hearing. He hadn’t thought that David was the sort who socialised with aristocrats.
“Read your Romanian history,” David replied.
Panther did a Google search. It took him five minutes to work it out.
“Fuck. You lucky bastard,” he sighed.
By unspoken agreement they had what Gabrielle called a “Sexless Fuck” that night. She lay on her side, her legs and arms wrapped tightly around David with Lord Vlad so deep inside her, he pushed against her cervix.
They talked a lot, giggled a lot, laughed a lot, passionately kissed a lot, whispered a lot of tender endearments in the other’s ear, but didn’t orgasm. The went to sleep in each other’s bear hug, still joined by David’s cock.
A new salesman was hired and soon proved to be a money maker. Now, with free time, they went to Panther’s in the evenings to work on the Camaro. It was a labor of love for both Panther and David and soon Gabrielle was caught up in the mood. She insisted that Panther start the engine so she could hear the V8 symphony.
Panther’s expert car painter scupulously matched Gabrielle’s hair and when the Camaro emerged from the paint shop, a gleaming bronze-gold metallic, they all knew it was an inspired choice. David made three changes from a copybook restoration. The Strato seats were uphostered in black leather, they were adjusted so they could recline flat and he asked asked Panther to increase the amount of travel for the seats to slide back.
He ordered the absolute top of the range audio from Germany and when it was on full volume Gabrielle thought she saw the Camaro shuddering from the beat. She spent a lot of time planning the photo shoot.
After two months the Camaro was finished. Gabrielle and David held hands as Panther started it, then all three went for a slow drive, listening to the engine for some time, being blasted by the sound system other times.
The photographer arrived and started to instruct Gabrielle on how she should pose. She gave one of her withering frowns.
“I’m in charge here.”
The first shot was taken through the driver’s window. She was wearing a dark green evening dress with a slit which showing more than a flash of inner thigh. Her hand was gently wrapped around the gear lever, her lips were slightly parted and there was a far away look in her eyes.
She dressed in mechanic’s overalls which were a size too small and bent under the bonnet looking at the engine with her backside pointing high.
She dressed in a knee length skirt and sat on the bonnet. She drew back her knees and put them together so she could rest her arms on them and then her chin on her arms. Her feet were slightly apart. Some inner thigh and and a hint of green satin panties as she smiled innocently at the camera.
She posed as a traffic policewoman leaning against the Camaro writing a ticket. The policewoman hadn’t done up her uniform completely and Panther could see a the pale rounded start of her breasts. The policewoman also had a large truncheon in her belt and had wrapped her hand around the thick end.
She put on a short mini-skirt and a tight singlet without a bra. She reclined the passenger seat flat and stretched out. Her long legs were displayed, the shape her nipples could be seen through the singlet. Her eyes were closed but David recognised the satisfied smile as the one she had after an orgasm
Panther was struck dumb. He had never seen such a display of sexuality and yet she was dressed and in some ways so innocent. Her subtle hints and knowing expressions were more sexy than any porno movie he owned. He looked at David who was watching with a proud smile.
“I think you’ve got the deal of the century Panther.”
“I think I have.”
Gabrielle returned after changing again. She had wrapped a big towel tightly around her.
“This is your Miss December, Panther. Christmas has come early for you.”
She insisted the men leave the workshop while she moved into her pose. They returned when she called.
She was lying naked on the reclined seat. She was lying on her side, seemingly asleep. An arm concealed her nipples but revealed most of her left breast. Her upper leg was in a position where her pussy was just, only just, hidden. Her ivory skin seemed almost luminous in the dark against the black leather. Her golden hair was splayed across the seat.
“It certainly is Christmas,” breathed Panther. He looked at David. “That Lord Vlad must think all his Christmases have come at once. And all his birthdays.”
“Sure is lucky, that Lord Vlad.”
It was dark when they took the coast road home. They didn’t say anything, just relished the growling masculinity of the Camaro and the music. They stopped at a clifftop. David took off Gabrielle’s clothes, reclined her seat flat, put the music up loud and they christened the Camaro and the Strato seat
He pushed her seat all the way back and knelt between her legs, She knew what was going to happen and put her thighs on his shoulders. David lowered his head to his paradise.
He loved the satin smoothness of her thighs against his ears. He loved the shape of her genitals. Her shaven and prominent Venus mound, her puffy outer labia, the thin inner labia which glistened with her juices. Her clitoral hood which he gently pushed back to reveal her engorging bud.
He loved the taste of her sexual excitement and the aromatic odours. He knew and loved her reactions. But what he loved most of all that it was his wonderful and beautiful Gabby who was eagerly offering her intimate feminity to him.
Just as Gabrielle knew how to drive him wild, he knew her body and how to excite her. At first he was slow, he licked and blew, he probed her vagina with his tongue. He sucked her clitoris and felt her excitement mounting, then pushed her legs higher and apart to lick her anus. Gabrielle squealed with pleasure. His tongue returned to her clitoris, his teeth gently nibbled and Gabrielle’s body quivered into orgasm.
She orgasmed many times over the next hour. David used his fingers as well as his lips and tongue and teeth. He pleasured her G spot and probed her anus.
Finally he moved up and guided his cock into her sodden, pulsating vagina. He thrust in hard so their pubic bones ground together. She tightened her vaginal muscles around him, felt him thrust deep again and heard him groan as his semen sprayed her cervix.
“Do you think anyone can see in though this tinted glass?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.”
So as David drove home, Gabrielle kept her seat fully reclined and lay back on it. She only wore sunglasses. David glanced at her tall, pale body which contrasted with the black leather. Her golden hair was splayed across the seat. One knee was resting against the door, the other against the gear lever. Gabrielle knew how he loved it when she flaunted herslf
“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” said David stroking her thigh.
“I like this car,” said Gabrielle.
David was right about the Camaro being a boyracer magnet. They came from miles. It was kept behind a chain fence in their carpark on public display. Gabrielle seemed to have an instinctive knack of being able to tell who had any money.
When she saw a likely target admiring the car, her routine was always the same. She wandered down and talked in a friendly way.
“It’s a Camaro. ’71. 350 V8.”
“Would you like to see inside?”
She let them sit in the driving seat as she sat in the passenger seat. She asked them what music they liked and put it on.
Then she fully reclined her seat, lay back, closed her eyes and idly writhed to the music.
When the track was finished, “Would your girlfriend like that?”
Sale.
Panther’s calendar caused a sensation. He sent free copies to his suppliers and best customers. All pleaded for more. He had another print run and these soon went. When he visited his suppliers he found that most thought Christmas had come early.
An art critic wrote a flattering review in the local paper and the calendars became collectors’ items. Panther started charging $200 a copy which he split with Gabrielle.
However the biggest benefit for Panther was the publicity. Business poured in. David and Gabrielle were pleased for him.
Modelling agencies made offers to Gabrielle and there was interest from a film studio. But there was no responding interest from Gabrielle.
David kept his old Toyota. The Camaro was only used for promotional work and for what Gabrielle described as “Fucking work.”
That was when they went to a restaurant, for a drive in the country or along the coast, driving to the ski fields. Occassions when the Strato seats could show their versatility.
SIX MONTHS LATER
“Davey, we need to talk.”
Gabrielle was again sitting in her “Serious Discussion” position. David cursed inwardly, there was nothing more that he wanted to do than start thrusting his cock in the ass where it was embedded. But then he realized that life wan’t really too tough. There was Gabrielle, fully and wantonly displaying her feminity only a few inches from him. And it was a stone cold certainty that Lord Vlad would have his way sooner rather than later.
“What are we going to do with our money now?”
It was a good question. His business was becoming a cash cow. His debts were being wiped off quickly.
“The world’s our oyster. We could buy an apartment. We could buy a boat. Joe wants us to buy his car audio business. I’m sure we could turn it into a success like this.”
“That sounds good. Why don’t we?”
“Gabby, I’ve been doing this for almost 20 years. In many ways I really enjoy what we do, but I’m getting bored. We’ve got enough money. If it worked you’d be sitting on my cock asking the same question in a year or so.
“And you,” he stroked her breast. “You are so capable of doing so much more. You could build a successful career. Why don’t you join a top marketing company?”
Gabrielle bounced on his testicles very painfully.
“Don’t you dare suggest I spend any time away from you,“ she hissed.
“Most couples do.”
“We’re not most couples.” Her eyes were indignant.
David smiled and stroked her face.
“A lot has happened to us in a year. Then I was a depressed alcoholic. And you were . . . . ,“ he didn’t know how to say it.
“And I was a nutcase until you saved me darling Davey.”
“A stark raving nutcase. 10 light bulbs short of a chandelier.”
She poked out her tongue.
“We were so lucky finding each other. But there are a lot of depressed alcoholics and stark raving nutcases out there.”
Gabrielle nodded.
“I think I’d like to see if I could help. Study psychology. Become a shrink.”
“You’d be so good Davey. You’re such a good listener. You’re so considerate with people.”
“You could run the business. I’d work part time while I studied. You would be my boss.”
“Just like now?” she asked.
“Think about Davey. It seems like a good idea to me.”
After a minute of them looking to each other’s face anfd thinking how much they loved each other, Gabrielle lifted herself off his cock. David was disappointed.
She pulled him up then knelt in front of him.
Gabrielle licked his cock and spat on it. Then she circled her right hand around it and massaged and rubbed. She looked up and saw the ecstacy on his face. She was now an expert. She pumped her hand and when he came, she put his cock in her mouth and drank every drop of his semen.
The next day they had a meeting with Mal, their sales manager. Mal had worked for David for 10 years and had stuck with him during the tough times. Now, in the good times, he ran a focused and successful team.
After Mal left Gabrielle said, “Mal would be very good at running this business.”
“Well he certainly has the sales skills and management skills. His marketing skills could be sharper. And his inventory management and financial skills could do with some sharpening as well.”
“I could sharpen his marketing skills. You could sharpen his inventory and financial skills.”
David nodded. “What are you trying to say Gabby?”
“I want to become a shrink with you.”
As David thought, Gabrielle held out her arms.
“Come here Davey.”
“Why?”
“I want to sharpen your fucking skills.”
They studied as a team. Their lives were busy. They spent some time training Mal. Gabrielle told David if he ever spoke about “sharpening skills” again she wouldn’t let him fuck her more than seven times a week.
They spent a day each week selling in the shop. Partly because it was in their blood. Partly because they made good money.
And for Gabrielle, because she usually sold more, it gave her the opportunity to frown and say, “Your sales skills could be sharper.”
As part of their psychology training they worked two nights a week in a drug rehab center, starting off cleaning the floors and urinals.
Every weekend, sunshine or rain, they packed a tent and camping gear and set off in the Camaro. As soon as they were outside city limits Gabrielle took off her clothes, put on her sunglasses, turned the music up loud and reclined in her Strato seat..
THREE YEARS LATER
“Davey, we need to talk.”
Again Gabrielle was in her “Serious Discussion” position.
“It says in Wikipedia that Russia has about the highest rate of male alcoholism and depression.”
“If Wikipedia says that, it must be true. What does it say about female nut cases?”
“I couldn’t find details of that. But if there are so many male alcoholic depressives, it stands to reason there must be a lot of female nut cases.”
“I think Russian sounds the most beautiful of any language,” said David
“I think so too. It’s very sexy. It snows a lot up there. You could kill a bear and make me a bear skin coat and hat.”
“I’ll buy you a fur coat.”
So, in addition to all their other work they studied Russian.
THREE MORE YEARS LATER
“Davey. We need to talk.”
From her “Discussion Position” Gabrielle handed David a printout of a job advertisement she had found on the internet.
It was from from Gazprom, the Russian oil and gas monopoly looking for two resident psychologists for Syktyvkar, a small isolated city near the Artic Circle.
During the intervening years they had qualified as psychologists and worked for two years in the rehab center. They poured in their energy and dedication and occasionally successfully rehabilitated some of their patients.
“What do you think?”
David slid Lord Vlad between her labia and deep into her vagina. He stopped moving for a moment, relishing the feeling. It still felt as exciting as the very first time. He opened his eyes and saw her green eyes glowing with excitement.
“It just keeps on getting better, doesn’t it darling Davey,” she whispered as she wriggled her hips. They had one of their long, languid, passionate and love filled fucks.
“I take it that means ‘Yes’” she said afterwards.
They arrived at Syktyvkar in the early spring. They found it easy to understand why there were so many alcoholic depressives living there. The landscape was flat and consisted of fir tree forests and snow. Syktyvkar’s most obvious features were an enormous Gaxprom gasfield, a Gazprom office building, row after row of featureless low rise apartment buildings and vodka shops.
It took some time before they were accepted. The Gazprom executives thought they had to be mad, voluntarily coming to Syktyvkar and the locals had an understandable suspicion of foreigners. But David and Gabrielle had great listening skills, loved listening to Russian and enjoyed the wry Russian sense of humor.
David made no secret of how alcohol had almost killed him and the depressed Russians realized they had found a kindred spirit.
Gabrielle made no secret of her troubled past.
“I was ten light bulbs short of a chandelier, Svetlana,” she explained to her client and the Russian women realized they had found a kindred spirit.
David and Gabrielle worked out that the long winter nights could be depressing.
“Gabby, these Russian men need something else to do during the hours of darkness,” said David. “They seem to spend all that time getting drunk.”
“We always have plenty of things to do in the dark,” said Gabrielle.
So they started to give sex advice.
“You mean I should lick her down there?” asked Ivan incredulously.
“Well, you’ll probably find you like it. And if you do it properly, you’ll find that Svetlana will do this to you.”
Ivan leaned forward intently as David gave detailed advice with the help of life-sized blowup rubber dolls.
“You mean I should let him put it in there?” asked Svetlana incredulously.
“Well, you’ll probably find you like it. And if you do it properly, you’ll find that Ivan will do this to you.”
Svetlana leaned forward intently as Gabrielle gave detailed advice with the help of the same rubber dolls.
They built up a loyal, but small, following. Ivan and Svetlana became their strongest advocates. They also wanted to lose weight so David got Gazprom to provide a gym. He had to bribe the executives by letting them drive the Camaro which they had shipped over.
Winter came came with its icy blizzards and – 40 temperaures. The Gazprom executives offered to take David on a bear hunt so that Gabrielle could have a bearskin coat and hat. David bought her a fur coat and hat from Svetlana’s shop.
There were only two of them and there was only so much they could achieve. But a good number of the men of Syktyvkar managed to kick booze and depression and a good number of Syktyvkar women became sexually liberated. The Russians are a handsome race and the alcohol free men were proud of their rejuvenated appearance. And even more proud of the appearance of their beautiful and now non-neurotic partners.
It was a rewarding time for Gabrielle and David. They developed a circle of true friends, they discovered Russian history and culture. For three months during the brief Arctic Circle summer, when the roads were clear of snow, they drove the Camaro slowly over the potholed roads. They named their children Svetlana and Ivan.
THREE MORE YEARS LATER
“Davey, we need to talk.”
Gabrielle was in her “Serious Discussion” position.
“These long winters and the bleak landscape are starting to get me down.”
“Me too,” nodded David.
“Wikipedia says there are a lot of depressed alcoholic men in Romania.”
“Then it certainly must be true. I’ve always liked Romanian food and music.”
“I’m sure Lord Vlad will be happy in the land of his ancestors.”

Read 17280 times |
Rated 88.7 % |
(159 votes)

Vote list (Close) :donb9033
: POSITIVELibby Jean
: POSITIVE

Please rate this text: