Page 38 of Goode Vibrations
“Gently. Let out the accelerator, and when it starts to get close to almost all the way out, start pressing the gas pedal so you sort of meet in the middle. Give it a go; you’ll see what I mean. And you will stall out first few times, so don’t worry about it.”
She gave it a shot, and the motor revved, we lurched forward, and then abruptly and jerkily halted. “Wow. Okay. That was rough.”
“Nah, she’ll be right. Try again. Gas sooner, clutch out more slowly at the end.”
She tried again, with better success, but we still stalled out after ten feet. A third and fourth try, and then the gear caught and we were rolling.
“You got it!” I said. “Good job!”
She pumped a fist. “Working the stick, baby!”
I snorted. “Yeah nah, that was what you did a few minutes ago, babe.”
That got a laugh from her, but then the motor started to protest as the RPMs grew. “So I should switch now?”
“Too right—let off the gas, push in the clutch, pull the shifter straight back to second, let out the clutch, and go on the gas again.”
We lurched and the gears crunched painfully, and then she hit the gas a little too hard and we bolted forward, the speedo needle climbing rapidly until she regained control.
She socked my arm. “You said that would be easy!”
“It was easier than learning to start, though, wasn’t it?”
“I mean, a little? It still sounded like I was breaking the transmission, though.”
“A bit more practice and you’ll have it. No worries.” I gave a somewhat meaningless gesture, pointing at the road ahead of us. “Why don’t you stop and try going into first again.”
She did, and it took another few tries to get going, but fewer than the first time. Up into second for a ways, and then she stopped, started, and had a go at first again. Within twenty minutes of taking the wheel, she had it down, if not smoothly, but there was no gear grinding or dangerous lurching.
“I’m a bit envious of how fast you picked that up,” I said, once we were cruising, windows down, at a steady fifty-five. “Took me most of a day.”
She looked pleased. “Well, you’re a good teacher.”
“Yeah nah. Don’t really matter how you teach it, it’s more about whether you just…getit or not. Some people can, some can’t. You’re clearly one of the sort who gets it. Not much to do with me.”
She smiled. “Well, I still think you’re a good teacher, and thank you for letting me learn on your van.” She eyed me. “If you’ve regained full use of your faculties, you can take over if you want.”
I shrugged. “I mean, if you don’t like driving, I will. But otherwise, keep after it. No worries on my end.” I grinned at her. “But, yeah. I think I’ve mostly recovered. I’m still not entirely certain I didn’t actually die and go to heaven, and then get sent back to earth.”
“They say if you get sent back, it’s because you’ve still got work to do.” A hot smirk, cocoa eyes mischievous, lascivious. “And buddy, I’ve got some pretty solid ideas as to the work you were sent back to do.”
I played along. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
She tugged her skirt up, bared her upper thigh, her sex—dark fuzz, trimmed into a narrow line leading down to her slit; she obviously tended to keep it trimmed that way regularly, but hadn’t shaved recently. Meaning she hadn’t anticipated this encounter and hadn’t been planning anything with anyone. Why that made me feel a bizarre rush of…not gratitude, not pride, but…pleased-ness, that it was me? Something like that. Plump outer lips, taut and narrow slit, a keyhole of darker flesh where her clit was. Begging to be licked. Kissed. Touched, played with. Worshipped, teased…used roughly till she screamed herself hoarse and begged for a break.
“You,” she murmured to me, sliding a fingertip up and down her seam. “Here.”
“Jesus,” I growled. “Pull over and I’ll eat you out till you forget your own fuckin’ name.”
She bit her lip, slouching low in the seat. “Errol…”
“You want to know what the single sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life is?”
She slid her finger up and down, up and down, circling, up and down, up and down, circling. “What?”
“You, touching yourself while going down on me.”
“You thought that was sexy?”