Uncle's Porsche

Recently, an uncle of mine had come to Athens from Los Angeles, where he had been living for years. He brought with him an extremely expensive red Porsche 9.24. That car would make me happy. In November 2003, I asked him to lend it to me for a little while, so I could enjoy the speed and luxury of that car. He gave it to me, and so I found myself behind the wheel of a Porsche. I went to my usual haunts, wearing a bright red dress with a provocative neckline. I'm quite beautiful, but I also have a very provocative body.

And that attracts a cocky guy who keeps following me around. On my part, I really want him—his body promises hot nights—but I wanted us to come together in style. He owns a motorcycle he never parts with, and he's always talking about speed, claiming only a Porsche could beat his XT 600. "Well then, since you want it so badly, I'll challenge you," I thought. Just as I expected, there he was, perched on his bike, and the moment he saw the Porsche pass by, he started it up and pulled alongside me. But he couldn't see who was driving, and that suited me perfectly. I heard him shout: "Wanna race?" I shifted gears and took off like a bullet, leaving him in a cloud of dust.

I'd gone quite a ways when it started to rain, so I pulled over. I got out of the car, opened the front hood, and pretended to fix something. I was already wet—the rain had soaked my dress, which clung tightly to my body—and my nipples were erect. Soon, I heard the sound of his motorcycle approaching. He saw me and immediately fixed his eyes on my body, especially my nipples. "Baby," he said, "you threw dust at me with that machine." I smiled and bent forward provocatively over the fake broken Porsche. He came closer, pressed himself against me, and I felt his hard cock pressing between my ass cheeks. He whispered in my ear: "With my tool now, just wait and see how good we'll have it. Forget the repairs for later."

He lifted my dress—I wasn't wearing any panties. His tongue was incredible—hot, velvety against my pussy. I came quickly. I unbuttoned his pants to see the cock that would fuck me. It was huge, thick, and beautiful. My cunt was so wet that I immediately pulled him inside me, starting a wild game with his fiery cock, while I squeezed his balls to keep him from finishing too soon. And all of this happened standing up, right on the hood of the Porsche, under the light drizzle. His moans were loud, turning me on. He grabbed my breasts roughly, kissed me greedily, licked me hungrily. Rain and his saliva mixed all over my face. At that moment, I felt a wild desire, and I shocked myself when I begged him to insult me crudely. I'd never wanted anything like that before, and now I was pleading to hear it. Soon, I heard him say: "I'm fucking you, you little whore, you cheap slut, you filthy bitch. I'll tear you apart, you whore, I'll rip your eyes out." I begged him to keep cursing me, to bite me, to hit me, and I enjoyed it more than anything I'd ever experienced. I made him sit on his motorcycle, and I knelt down, taking him into my mouth. The blowjobs I give are magical—I say so myself, and I'm proud of it. He moaned and told me: "You're the best, my baby. You're giving me the best blowjob of my life." I sucked him, licked him, and bit him, knowing he'd love it. I licked his balls, and my finger slipped into his tight little asshole, giving him sensations he never knew existed. His orgasm didn't take long, and he came in my mouth, shouting in pleasure. Even the rain stopped, as if it had been accompanying us in our frenzy, and only calmed down once we did. Later, as he held me in his arms, he said: "Baby... today I left a piece of myself inside you. No matter what happens, we'll never be apart."