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Fun in My Partner's Old Car

By: SDR2000



My partner bought himself a new Pontiac 6000 four door family style mid-size sedan right off the showroom floor at the local GM dealership in 1982 when they first came out. 

I remember we'd been living together for just over a year at that point. The day he took delivery of his new car, I have this memory of him pulling up to pick me up from work. He was wearing his familiar Harris tweed blazer. That still remains a hot memory for me.

He soon discovered that the first generation of these cars had very quirky carburetors and corresponding stubborn tendencies when it came to cold starts. 

In our frigid North American climate, if you left the car outside for a couple of hours with a strong cold wind blowing, the damned thing would not start. You had to take a pen or a screwdriver or something long and stick it down into the choke to open it up and then crank it for a long time until it started. 

The poor guy was so proud of his wheels. He was one hot, masculine, horny, tasty piece of man candy back in those days. It completely emasculated him when his prized ride wouldn't turn over for him.

I loved his car. After a few years, it smelled of him and carried his essence inside. You could feel it every time you got into the car. It was "his" personal, intimate, male machine. 

The driver's seat had worn down over the course of the 9 years he drove the car until it fit the outline of his ass perfectly. I always felt like I was sitting in his funky crotch whenever I drove his car. 

The brown upholstery in his car was a coarse type of masculine textured fabric. It always carried an unmistakeable faint odour of his male sweat and the stale tobacco from his cigarettes. 

I used to have fun at times sucking him off while he drove. I would rub my face against the grain of the driver's seat fabric and drive myself crazy, feeling the coarse, rough texture of his trousers. My tongue and lips would tease his musky, male-smelling hard tool until he would groan and shoot a big load of his salty man juice down my throat.

His car sometimes just wouldn't start for him in the winter. I always got half hard whenever I was with him in his ride and had to get out and fool with the choke, while he cranked that starter relentlessly.

He parked his car in our underground garage where we lived in those days. At rare times very early in the morning when he was getting ready for work, I would sneak down into the garage and pump his gas pedal until it completely flooded out. He always looked so disappointed and frustrated when his car wouldn't start. He'd eventually head back up to our apartment and complain to me about his piece of crap letting him down once again. Then he would angrily exclaim, "How the Hell am I going to get in to the office today with no damned wheels.?" 

To make him feel more manly on these mornings, I would always offer to go down on him. If he said yes, I would then bury my face deep into his hot, moist and heady male-smelling crotch and try to bring his cock to life. 

It was incredible to feel the male heat emanating from his suit pants. He would pull his hard cock out and force it deep down my throat in order to help relieve his frustration. After he shot his load, he would eventually head back down to his stubborn car and crank it repeatedly until it finally started for him. 

Once he left, I would fantasize about his hard man butt in that driver's seat with his muscular thighs spread wide to give his hairy balls some room . . . my sexy partner cruising down the highway.

I remember one night I was particularly bored and very horny. He had gone to bed earlier and I just had to have some private time in his personal ride. 

It was probably pretty kinky of me (we all have our particular takes on our fetishes and what gets us off). I got dressed in his clothes, which consisted of the dress shirt he wore that day to work, along with his favourite tweed blazer and dark brown wool dress trousers.

I went commando in his wrinkled, loose-fitting work trousers. I just had to feel where his hot male balls had been all day. The friction of that coarse fabric riding against my cock made me half hard in the elevator as I rode down into the dimly lit P2 parking garage.

His personal ride was sitting there just waiting for some action. I slowly walked over to where it was parked in that dark garage.

I pulled out his car keys from his dress pants, making sure they rubbed against my stiffening cock in the process. I found the key I needed and slowly opened his creaking driver's side door. Finally, I stared down at his well worn driver's seat that the dim interior dome light had illuminated perfectly.

I slid into his driver's seat. Once comfortable, I used my left hand to slowly feel the masculine texture of his sport jacket sleeve. Then I put my right hand between my legs to feel the upholstery fabric. These sequential actions almost made me shoot my cum load inside his trousers right then and there.

I took my time and gripped his steering wheel, imagining his strong hands doing the same when he was by himself alone in his car. Then I adjusted his seat so I could stretch my legs and pump his worn gas pedal a few times. 

With a final gesture, I stuck his key in the ignition and turned it to see the red GEN light come on. I watched the gas gauge spring to life and made a quick mental note that it was almost on empty.

I didn't want to flood and stall his baby out while still in the parking garage, so I only gave it three or four quick pumps. I knew this would be just enough so it wouldn't start for me on the first try. 

My cock sprang into action the second I turned the key to start and the starter commenced to grind away with that familiar GM cranking noise. 

It took two long crank sessions to bring that reluctant bad boy to life When it finally turned over for me, I waited for thirty seconds or so until the uneven rough idling adjusted. Then I stomped on the gas a couple of times to show that car who was boss. 

I roughly shifted my partner's stubborn, misbehaving ride into reverse and drove it out of the parking garage. I felt so manly at that moment, pretending to be my hot and sexy older partner heading in to work for the day.

I drove along for a bit, revving the crap out of his car every time I had to stop for a stop sign. After a few miles, I turned into the lot I was thinking about.

I just had to find a private spot to have some fun with his car. Luckily, there were a few unlit and secluded parking lots not far from where we lived.

I had an idea and was determined to do what I had been fantasizing about for some time

My hot male partner's set of wheels definitely needed to be taught a lesson.

I took my foot off the gas and turned off his ignition key. 

Then I just let his car coast along, pumping that gas pedal continuously until his aging sedan came to a full stop. 

Then I started to pump and crank it. 

It wouldn't start, of course. I kept pumping that pedal relentlessly while rubbing my left hand against the coarse grain of my partner's trousers. 

The visual of my right arm inside the sleeve of my partner's tweed sport coat was getting me extremely aroused. At the same time, watching my right hand holding his ignition key in the start position made me so horny, I didn't care if I shot a load of cum in his pants or not.

I was pretending to be my hot male partner stranded alone somewhere. In that moment I was him, swearing and pleading with my car to turn over for me and coming to the eventual dreaded realisation that it wasn't going to.

After ten or eleven tries, I became concerned about draining the battery. I didn't want to become stranded there and have to walk back home. The prospect of having to fess up to my partner what I had done to his car the next morning was not something I wanted to do.

I sat there for a few minutes playing with myself, until I could feel my cock starting to ooze pre-cum inside my partner's pants. It was time to finish what I had intended to do from the start.

I unzipped his trousers - the sound of that zipper was so erotic. My nose immediately picked up the horny smell of his unmistakeable masculine crotch sweat from earlier on in the work day. 

I started to finish myself off, every now and then letting my sensitive hard cock rub against the warm, worn fabric of his driver's seat, where I knew his hot and hairy balls had been earlier that day. 

Every thirty seconds or so I would crank the starter and curse and beg his stubborn piece of crap sedan to turn over for me.

On the fourth try, I just kept up with the cranking while holding his key in the start position. I kept my foot down on the gas. 

His car shuddered violently as I cranked it continuously. My ass of course, was firmly planted in his driver's seat. I could feel every protest and vibration until that bad boy started to sputter and stumble to life.

I moaned loudly and rubbed out one man-sized cock load of juicy cum once that car finally started and roared to life for me. My creamy jizz blasted out of my cock and landed all over my partner's steering wheel and on his floor mat. 

The smell of male sex in that car was unmistakeable and overpowering. 

I took some of my thick cum and rubbed it between my legs on his driver's seat. I wanted to know his hot ass would be sitting on some of my load every time he drove his car from that moment on.

The last thing I did before red-lining the crap out of his car and driving away was to take off his tweed blazer and wipe what was left of the cum remaining on my cock head onto the underside of his sleeve. 

Finally, I quietly drove my partner's car home, not quite believing I had just done what I had to it.

Once parked in the garage again, I pumped that worn gas pedal for a long time. I got out quietly hoping and praying that his stubborn, misbehaving car wouldn't start for him the next morning.

I did that a few more times until my partner finally sold the old, rusting out 6000 in early 1991.

By then I had cum inside his car many times and his driver's seat felt so good to me. I missed that car for the longest time. 

I wished we'd kept it. However, it would have been far too complicated to explain to my partner why I would have wanted to. 

By that time, his car was on its last legs and not reliable at all.

I still keep his tweed sport coat to this day, though. When my partner isn't around, I sometimes wear it and think about the secret fun I had in my partner's old car.