The roar of an inline 6.5-liter big block came rolling into the driveway as the clock chimed ten times. She had been anticipating this date for a few days as she had taken a large interest in Brad, as well as an even larger interest in his car. She rushed to the front door and gave herself the up down to make sure she looked alright. Her white tank top and short denim skirt gave her a kind of schoolgirl feel but her favorite part was that her matching bra and underwear were both unseen. She loved this set, matching black lace push up and thong, it drove every guy she’d been with wild; she hoped it would do the same to Brad.
As the tumblers fell in place she pulled the key out and walked slowly and confidently to the restored candy apple red Camaro Z28 SS. She loved the deep purr of the engine, and the smooth detailing on the interior. Although she was never a car buff, something about this car drove her mad. When she was younger she would’ve done anything to get a ride in this car, now that she was in it, she would do anything to stay there.
The date was her idea, sort of. Brad worked at the auto body shop next to her store and had apparently wanted to ask her on a date for a few weeks, but hadn’t gathered the courage to walk into the lingerie store all by himself.

One day before work, she left her lights on and parked her car in the corner of the back lot so nobody would notice. As she expected, the battery was dead by nightfall and the engine wouldn’t turn over. By coincidence that same day, Brad happened to be the one closing the shop that night, who would’ve guessed? She walked to the door of the shop with a grin on her face, which she wiped off seconds before she knocked on the door.

A somewhat frantic rapping came from the glass door as Brad slid himself out from under the ’67 Shelby mustang GT350. His first reaction was anger, this was the only night out of the whole week he got to set aside time to work on this car. It was his second lady, and he had picked her up for a decent price outside of Santa Monica. Their eyes met as he looked towards the door and he accidentally wiped his hands on his clean undershirt. Hoping she wouldn’t notice that dumb move, he stood and walked calmly towards the door. Not sure what to say the words, “I’m really sorry but we closed at 6,” came out of his mouth. IDIOT…IDIOT…IDIOT. The word repeated in his head over and over as realized that his chance at asking her out might have just been eradicated.
“I know and I’m really sorry but my car is in the parking lot right there and it wont start, I must’ve left the lights on all day and I think the battery is dead… Do you think you could help me jump it?”
“YEAH,” Brad’s heart jumped at the thought of being able to help her, “give me a minute.”
He disappeared into the back of the shop and minutes later a beautiful American muscle car came around the corner, a car she had seen in dreams and fantasized about when she was younger. Brad pulled up next to her and she barely managed to hear “hop in, ill drive you to your car,” over the vociferous big block. She sank into the custom designed leather bucket seat and noticed the 5-point harness surrounding it. Second by second she liked this guy more and more.
He pulled up next to her custom sapphire Audi and noticed that there wasn’t a single marking on the car, yet it looked fabulous. 19” nickel-plated BBS rims, Brembo Brakes, slight window tints, and tires that could stick to black ice. Immediately he liked this girl, although he had no idea what her name was and he thought he might like her before, this was a sign that her and him were meant for something. “YOUR car is an ‘07 S4??” He said skeptically. “Actually, ’07 RS4,” she replied critically, with a grin on her face.
Awe-struck, he popped the hood of his car and asked her to do the same. Having seen the car inside and out before, he connected the jumper cables to the battery and followed suit with his own engine. His engine roared as he started it, proud to feel the ground shake from under him. While they let her battery charge, he struck up conversation about sports and what she does, interested to find out that she owns a chain of high end lingerie shops all along the west coast. She cranked the key and the car sprang to life as the engine finally kicked. All 420 horses were let loose upon the pavement as a purr as deep as an abyss flowed out the tail pipes. Brad unhooked the cables and locked down the hoods of both cars as she thanked him over and over for the help. He walked over to her window, cables in hand, and set one arm on top of her door, leaning most of his weight on one leg and the door.
“Say, you wouldn’t happen to be available to catch a movie with me tomorrow would you?” His heart was racing as he anticipated her answer.
She gave him a devilish grin and answered, “Pick me up at 10”
Dumbfounded, he backed away from the car and watched her back out and leave 15-yard rubber marks all the way down the pavement. Not sure how to take that, he walked around to the drivers side and sank into his seat. Sitting on the dash there was a slip of paper with a phone number and address on it. How could she have done that without him noticing? Let alone know what he was going to do and prepare for it. He didn’t even know her name.

He had just shut his door when he looked up over the roof of the Camaro and saw her walking towards him, her piercing blue eyes, which he remembered so well standing out over everything that he could see. Her cute baby face had a cute little smile on it as she said, “So you found me huh?” He felt like he dressed well after seeing her short skirt, showing off her tan muscular legs, and her white tank top that accented her 36-C boobs oh so well. The top holes of his blue and white button up were unused and his jeans relaxed fit, held up by a stainless steel Chevy belt buckle. “Yeah, took me hours to find out who you were,” Brad replied sarcastically, “So where are we going?”
“Id hoped you hadn’t picked a place yet,” she responded with a playful tone, “get in, ill tell you which way to go.”
Turn after turn he ripped around with his car, trying to show off how he could drive, as well as how the car could handle. She could see that coming a mile away and acted calmly, like it was nothing unusual, because for her it wasn’t.
Around 10:20 they arrived at a drive in movie theatre, 10 minutes early for the next showing of Cruel Intentions. He felt like she knew all this was coming at some point, the way she acted so confident yet cute about it. He just went along with everything, talking about everything including their childhoods, their day-to-day business, their future goals, even a kinky comment here or there. When they actually started watching the movie, he rested his hand on the chrome shifter knob, hardly thinking about it. Minutes later he found her hand rested firmly on his. Acting normal about it he hooked her thumb with his pinky so hopefully she would understand that he showed interest. As he shifted his position in the seat he noticed a little movement from the passenger seat, following a soft pressure on his bicep where she placed her head.
They made it through the movie by just cuddling and holding hands, making both of them feel like they were in high school again. As the credits rolled she looked him in the eyes and said questioningly, “Would you mind driving me home?” He felt crushed, like he did something wrong and he screwed up bad, bad enough to not get a second chance. “Of course not, I’d love to.” It was the only thing he could muster, hoping that she wasn’t completely done with him. The drive home was slow; he took it easy on the car and didn’t need a single direction from her on how to get back.
As he pulled into her driveway and she got out of the car, he rolled down the windows and turned down the music so the deep vibrations from the subwoofer didn’t interfere with what he was about to say.
Before he could get it out she leaned down to the window, gazed into his blue-green eyes and said, “I know you shouldn’t drink and drive, but do you think one would hurt?”
His eyes lit up and he shut off the car.

They sat on her couch in front of the stone fireplace and watched the birch burn, enjoying the aroma that filled the room. They enjoyed glass after glass from a bottle of 1987 Shiraz and talked flirtingly in the warm air emanating from the extravagant marble fireplace. Having finished everything but droplets of her half of the bottle, she set her glass down on the side table, stretching her legs and intertwining her toes with the shag rug carpet. He followed suit, having finished his glass long before her, stretching out and relaxing a little more than he normally would if he were sober. As they talked, both inched closer and closer until Brad’s toes wound up where the carpet had previously been touching hers. Softly and gently he leaned in centimeters from her face and held his breath, hoping she would react to him. Their lips softly pressed together, both with eyes closed, savoring the moment as it lasted. Their warm embrace became more playful as time went on, their bodies moving closer together, his hands lightly exploring all her uncovered skin, their tongues flirting like a pair of singles in the city. Her left hand gently wrapped around his right wrist and gradually moved up his forearm, lightly around his inner elbow, to his firm bicep, where she paused, surprised at how muscular Brad was. Maybe she wasn’t so much surprised as she was excited, so she pushed her hand up and around his shoulder, feeling the ripples of skin where his muscle was very apparent. After lightly exploring his body with her hands, she laced his fingers with hers, standing up and hinting towards the upward spiral staircase. Ready and willing, Brad followed her step by step through the magnificent house, noticing the exquisite attention to detail of everything in the house. Through a Mahogany doorframe, they walked into a plum colored room with a perfectly dressed king sized bed covered in ornate pillows. The comforter was one of the fluffiest looking he had ever seen, and felt even better as he was thrown playfully on top of it. She walked around the room, flipping switches and lighting candles that smelled of something sweet that he had never experienced before. An electric fireplace on one wall began to ignite as he noticed that the four glass doors on the opposite side of the room all faced out to an ever-moving dark body. Being so preoccupied with finding her house and how he should act around her, he had apparently missed the fact that she lived in a beachfront house.
As the lights rose to a low glow, she stood in the doorway, her right hand in the upper corner while she balanced alluringly on her left leg, her right crossing in front. The sunset flicker of candles gave a mysterious and erotic aura to the room as song after song played continuously, going unnoticed by both people in the room. After removing the decorative pillows and the downy comforter to reveal two oppositely shaded pink sheets, Brad lay face up in the center of the bed. She crawled gracefully towards him, swinging her leg over his torso, positioning herself comfortably around his waistline. Her hand lay firmly against his chest, keeping him pressed against the bed as she leisurely yet appealingly unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, leaning down gradually and placing gentle kisses around the edges of his pecks, along his collar bones, and smoothly up his neck, lightly tickling his ear lobe with her tongue. His shirt had been unbuttoned since she had reached his collarbone and he hadn’t even noticed. Every time she would touch his face, his foot would twitch and his toes tingle. Her hands on his pecks and his thigh would tense. As she went lower and lower, every muscle in his body copied the motion of his lungs, constantly expanding and contracting. As she got as low as she wanted, adrenaline shot through his spine like signals through fiber optic cable. Realizing that his belt had disappeared along with her shirt, Brads pulse heightened and blood coursed through his veins more and more, second by second. There was something about the black lace bra that struck his fancy; he loved the curve it gave to her figure as well as the intricate lace pattern covering the entire thing. As much as he liked to admire it, his dexterous fingers had worked the clasp loose and had slipped the whole thing elegantly over her shoulders, off her arms and onto the floor to his right. Her supple breasts felt warm, firm, and soft in his hands, her stiff nipples tickling his palms. Time and time again he would fill his hands with their presence, often letting his tongue flick and his lips engulf, sucking on her like a baby does a bottle. The savory flavor of her skin causing his heart to push things through his veins that excited him beyond anything he was used to. With her hands digging into his obliques, he couldn’t stop teasing her. In one swift movement, Brad flipped himself on top of her, his left arm resting between her head and the dark pink sheet, his right resting on her stomach, letting his fingers toy with the edges of her skirt. Kissing her skin from the base of her neck, between her luscious breasts, to her belly button, he could tell she absolutely loved it. As he let his tongue dig deeply into her belly button, he loosed the clasp on her unbelted denim skirt. Her fingernails dug lightly into his right bicep as he slowly pulled down the zipper, revealing the black lace that he would forever remember. Although expecting to have to help him, Brad had no problem slipping the skirt down her tan, smooth, muscular legs. After throwing on the floor, he placed his hand on the top of her foot, smoothly running his hand up her calf, tickling the bend of her knee, pushing a little more strongly up her thigh until his fingers rested under the thinnest part of her thong. He played, kissing every inch of her breasts except her nipples, allowing his fingers to roam only inches from her waist, but letting them play between skin and cloth. Her left hand reached up to his cheek, firmly running through his hair until it reached the back of his skull. Brad found himself being forced to suck deeply on her tit, something that he did not expect to excite him as much as it did. When her grip loosened, he lifted his head to find that her panties had lowered about two inches. As he raised his eyes to hers, one corner of her lips elevated to reveal a devilish smile that could only mean one thing. With her skillful fingers Brads green Abercrombie boxers, covered in shamrocks, were the last things covering his practically naked body. Her right hand wrapped around the center pole of Brads tent, the tips of her fingers barely touching the tip of her thumb. With his lightly pulsing member grasped tightly in hand, she started slowly pumping up and down on him, making sure he didn’t get too excited and get tired out too early. With himself still firmly in her grasp, Brad reached down and twirled her panties around his index finger, pulling them along her legs until she had nothing but skin and hair to cover her. Unexpectedly, she moved herself very swiftly over him, hand still tightening his boxers around his cock, her crotch grinding lightly on his face. Not having much choice anyway, Brad started licking every crevice his tongue could find. He took it slow at first, letting his tongue explore the wet folds of her more than moist pussy. His hands wrapped strongly around her hips so he could maintain control of her, trying to get her pussy a little farther from his mouth, and his nose a little farther out of her ass, even though both loved it. As she calmed down a little, Brad started slowing down his motions, taking his time licking up both sides of her crotch, every once in awhile flicking the tip of his tongue across her clit and watching her whole body flinch. Every once in awhile he would reach to her breasts and aggressively squeeze them, pressing them up against her chest firmly, but not to the point of pain. His fingertips would focus more on her nipples, rolling them gently between thumb and index, once in awhile rubbing them in soft circles as he did the same with his tongue to her clit. Realizing that his boxers were still on, he closed his mouth, clutched her hands in his, and placed them on his own hips, wrapping her thumbs around the inner-elastic of his boxers. She moved them down an inch, stopped, and brushed herself lightly on his lips. He poked her hands and again she brushed herself against his mouth. Curious, he licked. Without hesitation she moved the boxers down another inch.
Minutes later, he found himself with less to cover himself with than she did. His tongue had never found so many tight crevices, nor tight dark holes before tonight. For some strange reason, he felt that her pussy wouldn’t be the only thing his tongue explored with her.
Taking the initiative, Brad turned himself on top of her, rotating himself until she lay sprawled out under him, head to head. No matter how much she tugged or made pleading sounds, the only thing he did was kiss her; from her lips to her cheeks, sucking gently and quickly wherever they landed on her neck. All over her body his mouth played, letting the tip of his tongue drag softly along her skin between kisses. His concentration was spent mostly along her collarbone, and playing around the edges of her breasts. As he got lower and lower he licked slowly along where the edges of her panties should have been, kissing down her inner thigh, along her shin to the top of her foot. Brad switched legs and put his hand on the opposite, following the pattern of his mouth with his hand on the other leg. As he got up by her hips, he placed his thumbs on the skin between her pussy and inner thighs, massaging in strong circles and watching her eyes scream, “STOP TEASING AND FUCK ME!”

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