Thursday, 12 February 2009
12:42:49 AM (GMT)
We ain't having sex, we're making movements to outlast the world :]
Anybody else love that song by Usher?...Just me? haha.
“Sir!” the man says, clearly afraid that your drunk boyfriend is going to do
something stupid and frankly so are you.
“How much?” Justin asks, gauging the distance from the floor to the platform and
the older man grabs his biceps before he gets the bright idea of trying to climb up.
“Sir, perhaps you could come back later. We’re not even open yet and you seem to
be…um…not in the right frame of mind for purchasing a vehicle,” the man says
delicately and he reaches into his breast pocket, plucking out a business card. “My
name is Ron Wiessman and I’d be happy to-”
“Hey Ron, I’m Justin how the hell are ya?” Justin exclaims, clapping Ron on the
back again and the older man grimaces at the force of it. “Tell me about this
Ron looks from Justin to you and then back again, clearly debating whether or not to
humor this inebriated celebrity or to politely (or maybe even not so politely) usher
him out of his dealership. Clearly the idea of a possible sale wins out.
“This is our newest ZR1 model. Not even released yet,” Ron says and Justin nods,
his eyes roving over the sleek curves of the car. “It has a 100 horsepower LS9
engine, the most powerful engine to be put in an American production sports car. She
reaches 205 miles per hour. Zero to sixty in 2 seconds. Carbon ceramic brakes. Full
rear lip spoiler.”
“That’s real nice, Ron,” Justin says and much to your horror and Ron’s he
some how manages to climb onto the platform, losing his footing from the slow
rotation and has to hoist himself up on his belly before getting his feet under him
Ron clears his throat as Justin shoves his head through the open window. “Heated
leather seats. On-star Navigation-”
“Honey you should see this!” Justin exclaims, his voice muffled from inside the
car. He struggles to extract himself from the open window and bumps the back of his
head hard on the roof of the car, emitting a soft ‘omph.’
“Bose audio system, auxiliary audio input jack-”
“Ron, you can stop with the sales pitch,” Justin says, bending his knees and
readying himself to jump from the platform.
You open your mouth to protest but he’s already jumped and by the grace of God
landed on his feet, wobbling only slightly.
“Sir, I would be happy to show you this car later in the afternoon.” Ron says
smoothly. “The banks aren’t even open yet.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Justin asks absently, watching the car
“Well, we’ll need to discuss financing…” Ron says carefully.
Justin scoffs. “I don’t need financing!”
“Sir,” Ron says, leaning close to the younger man and whispering. “This car is
Justin laughs, actually laughs and throws an arm around Ron’s shoulders. “You see
that girl there?” Justin asks leaning into him and pointing at you grinning.
“That there is my girlfriend.”
He beams at you and you sigh, shifting uncomfortably as they both look at you.
“Hot isn’t she?” he giggles and Ron chuckles, nodding slightly. You blush.
“And do you see what she’s holding there. Hold it up for him, baby.”
You sigh, raising your arms weakly, the bills almost heavy in your fists. Ron eyes
the money and then looks at Justin who’s grinning widely.
“That’s about…oh…$128,000 I’d say,” Justin says and your eyes nearly bug
out of your head, looking at the money in your hands astonished. “Wonderful game,
black jack.” Justin grins. “You double or nothing about eight times and you can
buy a Corvette with some left over.”
Ron is looking from you to him slack jawed and you imagine your expression is quite
the same. Justin grins widely holding on to Ron as he steers them around, looking
about the room, squinting.
“Now how the hell are we gonna get this thing outta here?”
Half an hour later your hands are shaking as you maneuver the shiny red corvette out
the open doors of the dealership, Ron waving jovially at you both as you pass. Justin
leans over you waving animatedly and you nearly hyperventilate from the stress as you
pull out onto the street.
“BYE!!!” Justin yells and then settles back against the cool leather of the
passenger seat, sighing. “Nice guy that Ron.”
“Yeah great guy,” you mutter, concentrating hard on the road, deathly afraid of
anything that may jump out and ding the perfect candy red paint.
You figure that once he sobers up he’ll want to return it. He’ll still lose about
twenty five grand but that’s better than the hundred ten he just blew. You still
can’t believe he gave Ron ten grand “for his trouble.” You thought the old man
was going to keel over dead.
“ Little red corvette ,” Justin sings under his breath and you fight the urge to
roll your eyes as you watch him, tap his fingers on his leg in rhythm with the song.
“ Baby you’re much too fast… ”
“You’ve lost your mind you know that,” you say unable to stop yourself, not
taking your eyes off the road. “You can’t just…just buy a car.”
He doesn’t seem to have heard you. “ Little red corvette .”
You jump as you feel his large hand smooth down your arm, covering your hand on the
gear shift. He leans over the console, nuzzling your cheek affectionately and you
can’t help but shiver.
“Why so tense baby?” he asks and you scoff.
“Why am I tense?” you ask, wanting so badly to turn your head and glare at him
but not wanting to risk it. “ Why am I tense? I’m driving a band new, hundred
thousand dollar Corvette, Justin!”
“Mmmm,” he hums and you gasp as his lips find the sweet spot under your ear.
“You look good doing it too.”
This is ridiculous. He’s drunk. He’s drunk and cannot be held accountable for his
actions and you can only imagine what he’ll be like when he sobers up. He’s
shifting in his seat one hand moving to clutch your head rest while the other traces
your kneecap lightly. What is he doing?
“What are you doing?” you ask, your eyes flicking from the road to his fingers
that are walking up the expanse of your exposed thigh.
“Nothin’” he says lowly, his breath warm on your ear and you swallow hard,
trying to concentrate on the road as you turn off Sunset onto Laurel Canyon
His fingers reach the hem of your dress, his calloused fingertips cool against the
warm skin of your inner thigh. You gasp as his fingers slip higher, under the hemline
and between your legs, brushing your lacy panties. He smirks.
“You planning on me seein’ these darling?” he asks lowly, his fingers stroking
slowly and your breathing hitches as a full body shiver shakes through you, causing
you to nearly miss your turn onto Mulholland.
“I…I thought…” you stammer, trying to concentrate as the road begins to twist
and turn into the mountains but his fingers are stroking you softly, his touch barely
“You thought what?” he asks, his warm breath fanning your cheek and you can smell
the whiskey on his breath, pungent yet intoxicating.
“I thought we’d go home earlier,” you manage to stutter, your hands gripping
the steering wheel tightly.
“Oh I’m sorry baby,” he whispers softly, his voice laced with lust and his
fingers press harder against you and a soft ripple of pleasure courses through you.
“If you needed my dick you shoulda said something.”
You gasp as his tongue traces the outer shell of your ear, his fingers stroking your
panties lightly as his other hand moves from the head rest to wrap in your hair. He
massages your scalp slowly as the fingers of his other hand slip beneath the elastic
of your panties, and you moan as he finds your clit instantly.
The car whines in protest and you tense, realizing you sped up into fourth gear
without shifting and you struggle to correct it, Justin chuckling lightly in your
ear. You’re almost home. You just have to get yourselves home. Just concentrate on
the road. Concentrate on the road and not the way his fingers are stroking you so
slowly not his mouth on your neck, not his breath hot against your ear.
You gasp when he presses two long fingers inside you, your body clutching at him and
you can feel him smirk against your ear, his thumb rubbing soft circles over your
clit. You shiver, wiggling restlessly and almost miss the turn off onto his street,
your vision blurring with pleasure.
“Fuck baby you’re wet,” he pants, sucking lightly at your pulse point and you
whimper, trying to focus on the small road barely large enough for two cars to drive
down. You pray no one crosses your path because you don’t know if you could
concentrate enough to stay in your own lane. “God, you’re practically dripping on
You shiver. He’s always such a dirty bastard when he’s drunk and you’d be lying
if you said you didn’t love it. You love how gravelly his voice is, how it’s like
a rough caress, how he spits obscenities with just enough force to jolt your
unsuspecting brain and it sends a pulse of pleasure down your spine directly to your
pussy. But all thought leaves you as his fingers curve inside you, sending a sharp
rolling wave of pleasure through you and your head falls back for a second before you
remember you’re driving. You gasp, trying to focus on the road and thank god
you’re almost to his gate.
He’s panting against you neck still, his fingers wrapped in your hair as his other
hand…god his other hand. You feel him smirk against your skin, his tongue lashing
out against the crook of your neck and you turn quickly – a little too quickly –
into his driveway, feeling the back tires slide slightly and your body tenses but his
thumb presses harder on your clit and you cry out, all thought gone except the
intense pleasure he gives.
Last edited: 12 February 2009