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Cara Mia

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"Bloody hell, Tyler, just wait in the car."

"I'm not ten. I know how to behave in a strip club."

"Could've fooled me the way yer pouting. Don't want to be responsible for corrupting a child."

"Guv I—"

"Twonk. I'm sure you've seen a bird's tits before, it's just that Billy's nervous as a pig on ice. Won't talk to me if I've got company. So wait in the car."

Sam watched him cross the street and go into the club, before settling back into the Cortina's passenger seat to wait, wriggling a bit to get comfortable.

The seat moved slightly under Sam's arse. Sam put it down to the seat settling from his shifting around. Well, that was until it moved again. He ran his hands down the sides of the seat but couldn't find anything out of place. As he leaned his head back again, the movement became a steady rhythm, flexing up against him.

Just like my massage chair. Sam smiled to himself as that thought crossed his mind, closing his eyes and pressing his back down into the seat. My massage chair that's in my flat. That will be in my flat, thirty years from now!

Sam's eyes snapped open. As he started to move forward he gasped as the safety belt unfurled and clicked home far too tight and far too low across his lap, rubbing against his rapidly growing erection. As the rhythm increased, Sam stopped fighting it and yielded to this strange moment of auto erotic love, almost passing out from the force of his climax.





Sam jerked upright in the seat. "Guv?"

"You dozed off you daft pillock."

"Sorry, I haven't been getting much sleep." Just a dream then. "You done?"

Gene started the car, turning briefly to look at Tyler.

"Yer the only bloke I know who'd put on his safety belt to have a kip."

Sam stared down at the safety belt fastened across him. Bugger!

Gene drove the car out into the road. "Yeah. Billy had some interesting things to say about Terry Davis…"

Sam shifted carefully in his seat, glad that his black jeans camouflaged the damp stain over his crotch.




After that, Sam found himself having that same dream over and over again, only now instead of Gene, Sam was the one caressing the Cortina's steering wheel and then sinking down to suck on its gear stick.

Sam began to notice things about her. How she gleamed in the sunlight. How cool, and dark and soothing she always was on the inside. How her handle was in just the right place for him to grab whenever the Guv attempted to break the land speed record. He'd catch himself running a slow hand down her panels as he waited for the Guv to let him in.

No matter how much Sam begged, cajoled, whined and insisted Gene refused to let Sam drive the Cortina. Sam was forced to watch from the passenger seat as Gene drove her, as Gene's gloved hands slid over her, knowing her in a way Sam could only dream about late at night, lying alone in bed with his Ford Cortina Car Repair manual.




They found Terry Davis and then Sam made Gene let him go for lack of evidence.

After an intellectually stimulating exchange of ideas, Gene had got tired of Sam pounding Gene's fist with his stomach and Gene had locked Sam in the Cortina's boot again.

Sam tried to breathe deeply, to combat the claustrophobic feelings he'd experienced the last time the Guv had locked him in the boot, but this time was different. This time it felt like the walls of the boot were really closing in on him

As the Guv slammed the Cortina down the road at the usual breakneck speeds, the car reached out to Sam, cushioning him against the worst of it and starting that strange pulsing rhythm all over again.

In the dark, Sam heard his zipper lowering.




When Gene opened the boot he stepped back rapidly expecting Sam to lash out at him like he had before.

Instead, he found a perfectly calm Sam reclining comfortably on his back, the beatific smile on his face making him look all of seven years old.

If Gene didn't know better he'd say that Tyler had just collated some files or got his end away. He pushed the stupid idea from his mind as he hauled the unresisting, and practically boneless, Sam from the boot.




Two weeks later, found them on stake out duty in the Cortina. It was a hot night and their coats had already been discarded into the back seat.

As Sam's mind wandered and he looked at Gene from under lowered lashes, he realized that for the first time he didn't know what he wanted more, to fondle Gene, running his hand up Gene's leg from knee to thigh or to fondle the Cortina's gear stick.

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted as history repeated itself and the Cortina started rocking violently.

While clinging on to the handle for dear life, Sam risked a glance at Gene who had an enormous shit eating grin on his face. As Sam watched, Gene's hands petted the steering wheel in an encouraging manner.

As soon as the car stopped shaking, Gene was out of the door striding back to the boot, Sam following him at a more sedate pace for once.

Gene opened the boot, positively beaming, there was no other word to describe it, at another foot long model Cortina with blonde paintwork and green headlights.

Gene picked it up, holding it tightly to his chest. As he turned to show it to Tyler, they could hear a faint beeping that appeared to be coming from the back of the boot. Gene carefully put the little Cortina back in the front of the boot and reached in further, coming out holding a smaller, more finely scaled, model Cortina with brown paintwork and brown headlights. As Gene held it up closer to his face he could see that it had a black leather interior and a tiny twinkling medallion hanging from its little mirror. He stiffly lowered it back into the boot and shut the lid.

"TYLER!" Gene roared.

Gene didn't see the Cortina's rear view mirror swivel to reflect Sam's arse as Sam ran away down the street.