The Car

(MF/Supernatural)

A life-long obsession/love of cars had turned him into a mechanic by trade but his passion was restoration of classics.  Many times he had found cars like this one, and restored them to their original splendor.  Above all else that is what he loved to do, so when his work day was done and he had stopped to get a few supplies he knew he would need he headed home.  First things first, he took it all apart as far as he could, cleaning the individual parts and checking on the worst damage.  Then the fixing and reassembling began. 

It took him months to get things to where it even remotely resembled a car.  As the pieces started to come together this car became more of an obsession than any other had ever been.  It was as if the car was calling to him, pleading with him to fix it.  While he usually had an active social life as he got more and more into this machine that fell to the way side. Every minute he wasn't at work was taken up with this machine that seemed to have a personality of its own.  Not only was the obsession its' self changing him but other things started to change about him as well.  Like most mechanics he was at home in jeans and t-shirts but he began to take on a bit more of a rebellious look, adding leather jackets and black motorcycle boots to the ensemble.  The guys at work started teasing him about the new look, asking if women liked it.  He grinned and shook his head but said nothing.  What he couldn't tell them was something he didn't understand himself; it was like this was calling to him in some way, that when wearing these kinds of clothes he just felt 'right'. 

Every night he'd spend hours with the Porsche, lovingly putting it back together piece by piece, fixing what he could, putting new in the places he couldn't repair, actually making some pieces himself.  As crazy as it sounded it was as though the car was 'talking' to him while he did this.  No, not real verbal words but he got the sense that it had a spirit that was pushing him along. 

About six months into the project it once again resembled the sleek sports car it had been at one time, symmetrical lines of a car that was aerodynamic and built for speed.  But in those same six months James had changed dramatically.  Now it was more than just the clothes, his hairstyle had changed, he had gone to what they used to refer to as a ducks ass style; old fashioned. His personality was a bit more intense and surly and there always seemed to be a scowl on his face.  While most of his male friends thought it was just a macho guy thing women seemed to love it!  They were almost dripping off of him at this point.  There were other minor things as well, for some reason unknown to him, he had switched from his normal Marlboros', to Chesterfields.  Also, he felt more moody than he had ever been in his life.  While all of it was odd it didn't worry him much, he was just changing as he grew older, that's all. 

After a year and a half it was done, restored once again to its original glory.  Sleek and beautiful, wonderful shining silver in color it spoke of times long past and cars once glorious but edged out for the more modern, fuel efficient ones of today.  To him the modern cars had no personality or soul but this one did.  As he put it together he found the numbers 131 on the doors and what looked like Little Bastard painted across the back of it.  That rang a bell somewhere in him but he couldn't remember where it was from.  On its first test drive the machine showed its power, while he cruised along well above the speed limit the car seemed to want to go faster, the road seeming to call to him.  While he longed to unwind the engine and see how fast it could go he didn't, not wanting to take the chance of hurting what had taken so long to re-build.  So instead of racing it like it had originally been built to for he took to cruising around in it, liking the attention it brought to him.  Women, in particular, LOVED the car and combined with his newly acquired bad boy looks he attracted them in droves.  They all said the same thing; he reminded them of someone but they couldn't quite place who.  From his point of view it could be anyone, he was fairly common looking.  Not real tall, only 5'8', or 5'10" in his engineer boots, blue eyes, about 155lbs give or take a few, dark blond hair that seemed to be perpetually messed up, he was common, nothing special about him, just looking like thousands of other guys. 

A couple months after he finished the car he was out one night at one of the local bars, having a couple drinks and seeing what was going on.  It was September 30^th and the chill was in the air.  The local football team was on a roll already and a lot of people were celebrating so the crowd was raucous.  Sitting in a corner of the bar he sipped his beer, watching the crowds when a good looking woman came over and sat down beside him.  About 5'6" she had the most beautiful, longish chestnut colored hair he had ever seen, thick and shiny, making you want to run your fingers through it, brown expressive eyes, a cute perked nose and sensual lips.  Small, maybe 115lbs at the most she was dressed in a pink sweater and a longish wool skirt.  Like a gentleman of course he bought her a drink then made small talk with her.  It wasn't long before they were deeply engrossed in each other, talking as though they were alone and not in a crowded bar.

As the hour grew late and the crowd got more drunken and rowdy he offered to take her home.  Escorting her out to his car he held the door open for her then slid behind the wheel.  Instantly she seemed to be as enamored with the car as he was, asking him all about it.  Instead of going to either his place or hers they drove out to the local teenagers' lovers' lane and parked on the bluff overlooking the city.  As they gazed down at the twinkling lights she slid over the best she could and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Putting an arm around her shoulder, he leaned down and kissed her softly.  Letting his had slide behind her head, he pulled her closer, the kissing becoming more passionate.  The car was a two-seater so nothing was going to be easy to do in it but with a bit of grunting and shifting around he slid into her seat with her on his lap, arms around his neck, kissing him.  Slowly, he let his hands slide up under her sweater and pushed her bra up to explore her smallish, well rounded breasts, the nipples, hard, poking gently into his hands.  While her mouth was locked onto his her fingers slowly entwined in his hair, holding his lips to hers tightly.

The more passionate the kissing became the more aroused he got, his cock hard, long and throbbing in his pats.  Almost animalistically he devoured her mouth as he ground himself up onto her, trying to relieve the pressure that was growing between his legs. 

 

Holding his head with one hand she let her other wander down and rub him through the tight fabric of his jeans, roughly massaging it.  Groaning into her mouth, he shoved himself onto her hand, feeling his cock throb madly.  With a slight of hand that was almost like magic, she hand his jeans undone and his cock out stroking it softly.  Then, shifting around a bit, her skirt bunching up around her waist, she held it to her crotch, rubbing it around a bit before lowering her sopping wet pussy down onto it.

Groaning loudly, he arched up, driving himself up into her all the way, feeling her hot, tight walls surround his turgid flesh, tightening down on it.  Shifting to get herself comfortable, she positioned herself on her knees and started to slide up and down on him, holding onto his shoulders for balance.  Pulling away from the kiss, she gazed into his eyes, panting, while she rode his thick cock.

Clutching her waist he thrust upwards in sync with her, his cock throbbing madly in her pussy.  Panting heavily, she stared into his eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Within a couple of minutes both where thrusting harder and the rocking car was filled with the slap of flesh on flesh and their grunts of passion.  Slamming herself down onto his rock hard cock she ground her hips in a slow circle before letting out a loud whimper as she came, her pussy spasming around his cock.  After a couple more frantic thrusts, he too came, flooding her insides with his seed. They sat under the stars, sharing a few languid kisses and a post-coital smoke before deciding to call it an evening.

After dropping her off at her house, and making sure he got her number, he headed for home, a big grin on his face as he relived the evening.  So lost in thought was he that he didn't realize his speed had crept up to over 100 MPH.  After topping a hill the car sped up even more as it cruised down, heading for an intersection.  It was too late when he saw the car in the cross-street in front of him.  Though he stomped on the brakes he couldn't stop in time and T-Boned the car, throwing him free and killing him on impact.  Once again, the little bastard had perpetuated the curse.

Authors Note: Do you recognize the legend and car in this story?  I'm sure some of you do.  It is taken from a legend of a very famous car that is purported to be cursed.  This is a work of fiction, the car from the legend is missing and no one knows where it vanished too.  The situation in this story is fictional and based on the legend, not real.  If you are curious about that legend go here http://www.snopes.com/autos/cursed/spyder.asp to read about it but take it for what it is, a legend, not necessarily reality

Danyealle