I remember a story that happened to me way back in my high school days. I grew up on the East coast in the Pennsylvania area. Back in the sixties when I was in high school there was not a heck of a lot to do in a small town. Drinking beer and trying to look cool were the norm. It was a long way from the sixties sex and drug revolution you read about in books. The only hippies we ever saw were on the big Zenith black and white TV that dominated the living room of the old house I grew up in.
The one thing I did have to look forward to back then was getting my license. That not only meant being able to actually get a car, but also all the freedom that went with it. To a small town kid like me that was huge. The other thing was that I was always a bit of a gear-head. When I turned 16 I got a job in a local garage owned by the father of a friend of mine from school. I basically cleaned up the place and was trying to learn welding and basic machining at the time. I was always hanging around the machinists and mechanics, trying to learn everything I could. I was also fascinated by all things mechanical. My big hope was that by the time I was old enough to get my license that I would have enough money for a car.
There was one other reason I wanted a car I might not have mentioned. Besides the fact that I was a car nut and the freedom and all that other crap, there was a big reason. That would be to impress girls. Well, really one girl in particular. Her name was Debbie Anderson and she went to the same high school. Actually, everybody in town went to the same high school. In the small town where I grew up, there was not a heck of a lot a guy might have to impress a girl except a car. At least that’s what I always was led to believe.
Debbie was one of those girls that every guy in town thought about. It seemed that way at least. For good reason, I might add. Debbie had that sort of long blond hair that hung all the way down her back so that it sort of bounced off her perfect ass as she walked. I am quite sure to this day that if you look up “Perfect ass” in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Debbie Anderson. Her body as a whole was so perfectly formed, it was hard to even notice her gorgeous big blue eyes or her full lips that sort of pouted in a way that said “Kiss me.”
Another reason why I needed a car was to ward off the competition. Competition in this case meant another guy. His name was Jerry and his last name was some Greek name I never could pronounce. Acropolis or Metropolis or something. Sounded Greek to me. His family owned the only diner in town, the place where literally everyone from criminals to cops hung out. Owning the only diner in town meant the family had money. More money than brains I always thought, but that would be a whole other story. For his 17th birthday, Jerry got a brand new GTO. A 1965 Pontiac Tempest GTO in metallic blue with the 389 Tri-power option. The kind of car guys like me, and most everyone else in town, could only dream about. It had factory bucket seats, the Rally cluster package with all the gauges and the first AM/FM radio I have ever seen in my life. I mean the first AM/FM radio I have seen period, not just in a car.
The problem here is that once Jerry got this car, his already big over-inflated ego just seemed to get even more inflated. Like someone attached it to an industrial air compressor. He was on the football team, probably because his parents made a large cash donation to the school and he was sort of smart. Smart in a sort of geeky, makes you want to kick his ass sort of way. He too had his eye on Debbie. After all, he may have been a total asshole, but he was a guy.
I had known Debbie practically all my life. We grew up in the same small town where literally everybody knew everybody. We had actually dated a bit, but never seriously romantic. Teenage stuff. Jerry and his family only moved into the area about five years before, presumably to open the diner. Since Jerry got his GTO, there was no doubt Debbie was paying him more attention. Heck, everyone in town noticed that car. It was hard not to notice a metallic blue GTO in small town Pennsylvania. Someone once told me it was the first 1965 Tri-power 389 in Pennsylvania. His parents supposedly paid the dealer a shit load of extra money to get it. I had no reason to doubt it.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get much worse, they somehow did. While coming out of school one day, I saw Debbie getting into Jerry’s new GTO. I was heartbroken. I always thought she really liked me, but now I felt I really didn’t have a chance. It was more than a month away before I could even get my license, let alone a car.
I tried to immerse myself more into my job at the garage where I was working after school. I tried to get the thought of Jerry and Debbie out of my mind but it was hard. I needed something to come along and give my spirit’s a boost.
That event happened about three weeks later. I was working in the garage learning some basic machining, as usual. It was a Thursday afternoon, I still recall all these years later. A customer came in the shop that would change my life. Before I could even see his face, I noticed his car. I generally do that anyway, no matter what kind of car it is. But this day, even more so. This customer pulled into the shop with a 1961 Chevrolet Impala SS 409. White, with red bench seats front and rear with the big Impala insignias emblazoned in chrome. You know the car. The one the Beach Boys sang about, “She’s real fine, my 409.” Yea, that car.
I started a conversation with the owner as soon as I got done staring. The owner was an older gentleman. I kept thinking what an old guy would want with a car like that, but looking back, the guy was probably 20 years younger than I am now. The guy had brought the car in for some belt squeal, no big deal. 409’s were always wearing out something, the damn things had so much torque. He told me he was from out of town and was here visiting family. He also told me the car was for sale.
That last bit of info hit me like a five pound sledge. I stood there for a few minutes completely speechless. When I did finally gather enough nerve to ask him how much he wanted for it, I found out it was a bit more than I had managed to save while working at the shop. I told him I knew someone who would be interested, and took down his name and number. I knew somebody who was interested alright, me. My only hope was that my parents would lend me the difference.
That night I pleaded my case to my parents. I was only short a couple of hundred dollars but that was fairly big money back then. After a bit of negotiation in which I promised I would do everything from mow the lawn to paint the house for the rest of my natural life, I finally had success. I was elated that evening. It was still a couple of weeks before I could get my license, but I was ecstatic. I called the owner and told him I was buying the car. For the next couple of weeks I could barely sleep.
When I finally got my license and the car I remember I spent the whole day cleaning and Simonizing every inch. Believe me, there was a lot of car to wax. You could probably put one of today’s cars in the trunk of that thing. I even got the narrow white walls spotless.
I remember my first real drive in the thing. I picked up my friend Jimmy Miller and we drove it down the main drag through town. It had the Borg-Warner four speed and the beast had so much torque it could spin the wheels in second gear for about a mile. Well, one wheel anyway. Those were the days before positraction. I could lay single patches of rubber at will. I felt so cool.
The next day I drove it to school. I felt so proud driving my own car. That day when I got out of school, I drove slowly through the parking lot past all the other guys and girls. I had my friend Jimmy Miller in the car with me. Him and I were pretty inseparable at the time. As I slowly made my way through the lot with the windows down and the radio on, I came across Jerry and Debbie getting into Jerry’s new GTO. I slowed to a crawl as I eased past, hoping Debbie would see me. She did and she averted her eyes when she saw me. Jerry noticed me slow down and came up to the car.
“What do we have here?” He asks somewhat sarcastically.
“What does it look like Jerry?” I replied.
“What did your grandmother die and leave you her car?” Jerry asked with a stupid grin on his face.
“Look Jerry, this car can beat your car any day!” I shouted back, somewhat tauntingly.
“Oh yea”¦” He paused as he spoke, “How would you like to make a wager on that?”
I glanced over at Jimmy for guidance. He was staring out the passenger window probably hoping this was all a dream.
“Sure!” I shouted back, “What do you have in mind?”
I was hoping nothing. I clearly had a bad case of “˜more balls than brains’ at the moment.
“Fifty bucks.” Jerry replied with a big shit eating grin, “Fifty bucks says my car can beat yours, sucker.”
“Your on.” Those were my famous last words for that afternoon.
We arranged to meet later that night at an old road that led to an abandoned coal mine. That was where everyone raced their cars at night.
Jimmy didn’t speak much as I drove him home. Something about me being an idiot I think I heard him mutter under his breath. He was probably right. In fact, I was sure he was right. The 389 Tri-power had more torque and less weight than my 409. I didn’t even know where I could come up with the fifty bucks. Heck, that was a lot of money back then. You could buy the used Plymouth of your choice for fifty bucks.
I dropped Jimmy off at his house. He told me I was an idiot once more before getting out of the car and heading towards his house. You know things are dire when your best friend feels the need to remind you how much of an idiot you are.
“You coming with me tonight?” I shouted as he walked off.
“For what, to see you go down in flames?” He shouted back.
“Moral support.” I answered.
“More like moron support.” He replied.
After a few more wisecracks he reluctantly agreed to join me later. I told him when to be ready and drove off.
Later that night when the designated meeting time approached, I got back in the car and headed towards Jimmy’s house. Just as I pulled up in front, a figure came running towards me. As the figure emerged from the shadows, I could see it was Debbie.
“Gary, I know why you’re doing this,” She said, “You’re doing this just to impress me, right?”
I knew she was right about that. There was no doubt.
“You don’t have to do this, really.” She added.
As she spoke, Jimmy came up to the car.
“I guess you don’t need me.” He said.
“I have to do this now, Debbie.” I said, “Get in the car.”
Debbie got in the car. Jimmy just gave me a grin and walked back towards his house.
We were both quiet as we made the ride towards the designated meeting spot. In a way I would have loved to have let Jerry see me with Debbie in the car, but these backstreet races were taken somewhat seriously and you were not supposed to have any passengers in the car.
“Duck down.” I told Debbie as we approached.
Debbie laid herself across the front seat and ended up with her head on my lap. That was not what I had expected but I have to say it felt good. As we passed under the street lights, I could glance down and see her looking up at me grinning.
A minute later we were at the spot. Jerry was already there as were a small group of onlookers. These things always attracted a small crowd. I rolled down my window as I pulled up my car next to his. I signaled to a third party who acted as the race coordinator that I was ready. I could hear the rumble of the big block 409 engine through the dual exhaust pipes as I revved my engine.
“You don’t have to do this.” Debbie said in a pleading tone, her head resting on my lap.
The race coordinator stood with his arms in the air about ten feet in front of the rumbling vehicles as they sat poised on that backstretch of pavement.
“Ten, nine, eight”¦” The coordinator started a slow countdown.
The big block motors rumbled with a deep growl stirring the silence of that dark Pennsylvania night.
“Five, four, three”¦”
“You don’t have to do this.” Debbie pleaded once more.
“Two, one.” The race coordinator dropped his arms in a swift downward movement.
I let out the clutch as the big Impala lurched forward with tires squealing from the torque of the mighty 409 engine. My back was pinned against the big bench seat as Debbie’s head pressed into my lap. I could hear the GTO light up it’s tires as Jerry launched it into motion. Almost immediately I dropped the Hurst shifter into second and pinned the accelerator as the dual exhaust pipes roared. From the corner of my eye, I could see the GTO gaining on me. By the time I got the big Impala into third, I could see the tail lights of the Pontiac as the more powerful 389 began to show it’s stuff. By the time I moved the lever into fourth, I was cursing under my breath as the metallic blue GTO was showing me it’s tail lights.
Then suddenly things changed. The blue GTO suddenly slowed and veered off to the left. I kept my foot to the floor as I continued on down the dark road reaching the end just seconds later.
“Whoa!” I shouted.
“What’s up?” Debbie asked somewhat cautiously.
“I don’t know. Jerry’s car stopped. He must have broke something.” I was trying not to show my joy too much.
I got to the end of the road and turned the big white Chevy off to the right.
“You can pick your head up.” I said.
I found a side street and drove around the block. Debbie was sitting up next to me as I explained what had happened.
In short order we arrived at the site of where the GTO was pulled over to the side. A couple of Jerry’s friends were at the scene. I asked one of them what happened.
“Broke a U-joint.” One of them replied.
Ouch, that had to hurt I thought to myself. Jerry soon emerged from the disabled car cursing quite profusely.
“Hey Jerry, car trouble?” I said, “If you want I can call you a cab.”
“Oh fuck you!” He shouted at me.
“Hi Jerry.” Debbie said rather loudly.
“Debbie?” Jerry said in a surprised tone.
“Hey Jerry, I’ll get back to you about collecting my fifty bucks.” I added, “I would hang out and talk, but we got things to do.”
“Bye Jerry.” Debbie added.
Jerry said a few things I would rather not repeat as we headed off.
“Where do you want to go?” I asked Debbie.
“Someplace more quiet.” She cooed in my ear.
I agreed with her fully as we drove off into the night. Debbie eased closer to me on the big bench seat and rested her head on my right shoulder. She nuzzled her nose against my ear and played with my hair as we drove. Soon we arrived at a deserted rest area overlooking a small lake. It was quiet and peaceful and above all, private. I parked the car and turned off the engine.
Debbie and I soon started to kiss passionately. Our tongues began to explore what we had only thought about previously. Our lips locked and unlocked as our tongues did a dance. I began to remove my own shirt and toss it onto the back seat. I then helped Debbie off with her top and tossed it in back as well.
I then removed my shoes and tossed them aside, soon doing the same for Debbie. As I removed each of her shoes I massaged her feet and toes vigorously as I leaned forward and resumed my kisses. I stopped massaging her feet long enough to grab her and pull her forward towards me and start kissing down her neck and her chest. I reached around and unhooked her bra and held it up for a moment. I then draped it over the inside rearview mirror in the car.
“Looks good, don’t it?” I asked, “Better than fuzzy dice I think.”
Debbie giggled as we both started undoing each other’s pants almost simultaneously. I leaned her back on the front seat of the car as I slid her pants off, again tossing them into the back seat area. I then removed my own pants and underwear and did the same.
With Debbie prone on the front seat I slid my hand down and caressed her soft thighs. I then slid my hand onto to her panty covered mound and pressed my middle finger into her slit, massaging her soft pussy lips through her panties. I could feel the moisture soaking her panties as I worked her with my fingers.
“Your panties are damp, young lady.” I began, “Let me help you out of these damp clothes.”
Debbie again let out a soft giggle as I eased her moistened panties down her luscious thighs and up over her legs, which were now pointing in the air.
“Let me hang these damp clothes up to dry, young lady.” I then hung the panties from the rear view mirror along with the bra.
Situating myself between Debbie’s now parted legs, I resumed kissing her gorgeous firm breasts, taking time to circle each erect nipple with my tongue and lips. While doing this, I eased first one, then two fingers into her soft, silky wet love canal. I eased my fingers in and out gradually applying firmer and firmer pressure, while teasing her clit with my thumb. Her juices were steadily flowing and I could smell her delicious scent rising up in the front seat of the car. I realized it was time to get the show started as I began to ease my engorged member in between her pussy lips, first the tip and then beginning my thrusts. I leaned forward over her and held her shoulders as I began my thrusts. After a few minutes, I could feel her tightening pussy grip my member as we both came together.
We sat for a few minutes and held hands. Then we began to kiss and tease each other again with both fingers and tongues. After a while we were both ready for a repeat performance. It was then I got an idea.
I moved the front bench seat of the big Chevy all the way back as far as it could go. I sat up as I grabbed Debbie and hoisted her up onto my lap between me and the steering wheel. I then placed both her hands on the steering wheel.
“Here, you grab the wheel, I’ll drive.” I whispered in her ear jokingly.
Once again she giggled softly as I eased my hands around from behind and began messaging her soft thighs. As she moaned softly in approval, I eased my fingers between her legs and again began to message her soft folds. I grabbed my own member and began stroking it between her pussy lips until I grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto my now fully erect cock. In short order, I was guiding her up and down my engorged shaft by her hips. After a while I lifted her up a bit and leaned her forward against the steering wheel as I placed my hands on hers and took her firmly from behind. We both groaned in ecstasy as once again we came nearly simultaneously.
We sat and held hands for some time and just talked, taking in the view of the lake the whole time. After a while, we did get into the back seat, but only to gather our clothes. I convinced her that she really didn’t need to put her bra back on. I thought it looked too good hanging from the mirror, though she was not thrilled to hear I drove to school the next day with it still hanging there. Oh well, I guess I forgot.
Overall, it was definitely a night to remember. As the years go by, some things we will never forget.