The Ride

It's been a while so how about it if I toss one off for you… A scene that will invade your thoughts on any long hard drive you make… (*for my muse?)







We're traveling together, road trip style. I love road trips. The constantly changing scenery always keeps me excited about what's just down the road but this time we're driving in a very rural area where the scene doesn't vary much from one plot of farm land to the next. I'd been hoping to get off since we started off! The first leg of the trip is a straight shot on a highway through endless miles of nothing exciting so I decide to generate my own point of interest. I slide close to you on the seat, beginning by rubbing your leg through the soft worn denim, working my way higher till I feel your cock hardening in response to my strokes. I smile at the gorgeous profile of your face as you watch the road, trying to concentrate but I recognize the light of passion already firing your eyes. I also notice a slightly determined clench to your jaw even through the shading of beard that covers it. My lips seek the pulse in your neck; I feel the coursing of your blood as your heart pounds steady and strong. I graze my teeth ever so lightly over the spot, wanting to bite and suck a mark of passion there but I refrain from going that far because my goal is to tease and torment, not land us in an accident from startling you as you drive. So instead I content myself by exchanging my teeth on your skin to using the tip of my tongue. With my free hand I gently push your beautiful long dark hair softly behind your ear, clearing your ear to trace the curve of it with the wet point of my tongue then twirling it quickly around the lobe, knowing that the action along with the heat of my breath is shooting waves of pleasure through your sensitive body. “Mmm, someone's up for a very different kind of ride I see… “I croon softly as you harden further under my teasing fingers. You briefly close your eyes and swallow the heat that is making your body tense, a futile bid for control. “Come on doll, you know I'm always up for you but we need to get some miles knocked out in a hurry this morning so we're where we want to be later this evening.” You say the words but you've yet to remove my hand; I know you won't because you love the feel of me touching you.






I pout, “Come on lover, I want to taste you.” I reach for your belt, intending to free your gorgeous engorged shaft so that I can sheathe it in the velvet soft heat of my mouth. You stop my hands, you glance at me with a sad look, “I'm really sorry sweetie but we really have to keep this schedule. I promise when we get there I'll make it up to you.” Once my passion is stoked its incredibly difficult to stuff it back, down so with a bitter effort at control I move as close to the opposite door of the SUV as I can get - hurt and frustrated. I stare out the window, tears stinging the backs of my eyes while not seeing anything; only feeling your rejection like a stone lodged behind my ribs.






“Honey, please, don't look like that,” you gently sooth. I can hear the regret in your voice; see the sadness in you eyes. You reach out your hand to me… I hesitate - but only for a breath in time. How can I help but slide back to be near you? I've never been able to resist you. I think that's because what you've wanted to take and give I've also selfishly wanted to give and take. I tuck myself under the warm weight of your arm with my back pressed to your side. I sigh. My ardor hasn't abated but I always feel such a wonderful peace when I'm near you. It's like I'm protected, safe from the entire world because when I'm near you there is nothing that exists of importance outside the world within the circle of your arms. But it's when my flesh touches yours that the embers are ignited and flames swathe my body. I can feel your pulse beating where our bodies connect. Your scent engulfs me; I smile to myself as I lay the hand that I'd been stroking within my own on my breast. I feel the rumble of your chest as you release a moan of desire. You cup my ample breast in your hand, measuring the weight of it from beneath in your palm. You graze over my nipple with your thumb, feeling the instant response of the hardening bud through the lace of my bra. I bite my lower lip; close my eyes as the wave of wanting tightens my nipples as if they were being pinched. “Mmm, that feels sooo good baby,” I breathe. You reach up to slip your hand into the top edge of my shirt, wanting flesh to flesh contact. I pull down the front of the stretchy material so that my lacey plunge bra is uncovered and your hand is free to explore the swells of my breasts. Your fingertips are cool against the straining points of my nipples, I inhale quickly as a chill races from the point of contact down my spine but it's liquid heat that seeps between my thighs, my nipples pucker harder as you pull them into punishing pleasures. As I said, my goal was to seduce you into some 'auto' erotic fun so I'd dressed for the event; the elasticity of the pink top, the sheer lace plunge bra, the swingy light denim skirt and no panties underneath… All staged to enhance the blue of my eyes and the natural cinnamon tan I worked to achieve slowly with many nude liaisons with sunscreen and my favorite star over the summer. You remove your hand from inside my bra, sliding your fingertips up my chest, caressing my neck then running your fingers over my parted lips. I take your hand in mine, opening your palm to my kisses. I moan as I run my tongue up the inside of your middle and index finger - taking them into my mouth. I swirl my tongue against them, fluttering it against your fingers as I suck them in and out in simulated oral gestures. “Wouldn't you rather let me do this to your cock baby? Let me please you…” I whispered in a voice deepened by lust.






I can hear the smile in your voice as you growl, “I'd rather do this…” You reach down to pull up the front of my skirt. I grin too, knowing what's coming and it's likely soon to be me! I spread my legs, leaving one bare foot on the floor and raising the other foot to rest on the seat with my knee bent and the hair on my mons being gently tickled but the air moving through the SUV from the open windows. A coolness raises chill bumps on my skin as the air touches the wetness that slickens the outer lips of my labia and inner thighs.






“Ah, what a naughty girl you are! No panties?” You slap your closed fingers on my fleshy natural furred mound, instantly discovering the influence you always have on me. “Damn baby, you're soaked!” I hear the appreciation and pride in your voice. You love the power that you have over me. You stroke the outer lips before spreading them with your fingers then gently stroking deeper, circling my clit, coaxing it to engorged sensitivity under your practiced hand. I moan your name, encouraging you to continue as my body quivers from your touch. I can't sit still; I'm grinding my hips in slow circles, as much as I can do so seated, matching the rhythm of your hand. You plunge two fingers into the weeping fountain of my pussy. I gasp. I pull my bra forward, spilling my large fully tanned breasts into my own hands. You're alternating between watching the road to looking over my shoulder. Watching me squeeze my coppery breasts, pinch my highly contrasting light pink nipples and seeing your hand, wet with my juices slipping from clit to pulsating opening; its hypnotic. Perhaps this is why with our attention so distracted that at first neither of us had noticed the 18 wheeler that had come up in the right slow lane on the three lane highway until he blew his train-like horn and we both looked startled into the stranger's grinning appreciative face as he watched our play. Your first instinct was to pull your hand away but at this point I was too close to cumming and I couldn't bare the sudden interruption. “Please, don't stop!” I plead.






“But he's watching…” You whisper breathlessly against the top of my head. I can hear the new, almost frightened excitement in your voice.






“I don't care! Let him watch! Please don't stop!” My voice quivers but is defiant. I spread my legs wider so the trucker can get the full view. Your hand returns to it's marvelous manipulations and I smile at the driver before continuing to fondle my breasts, pinching my nipples then lifting them to my bent head to lick them with my tongue. The trucker paces us, watching intently between glances at the road ahead. The single hand on the wheel of the big rig made it more than evident that the other was attending to his pleasure.






“You know what he's doing don't you? He's stroking his cock, wishing he was balls deep where your hand is.” I gasp out between ragged breaths as I look directly into the trucker's glazed eyes as my body gets closer to explosion under his gaze and your hand.






“Yes, he wants to be where I am, feeling your pulsing pussy clinching my fingers like I do, know that he's the one who going to make you cum.” Your voice deep but breathless. “But he's not and he won't. This is mine, cum for me baby - now!” And I did, hard! My body jerking, my head pressed hard into your shoulder as I cry out my climax loud enough for even the trucker to hear. He gives a whooping yell and pulls the horn of the truck again. He yells across the noise of the engines and over the space that separates the two vehicles, “Wanna share?” At this point you remove your slippery fingers, dripping with my climactic honey and bring them to your mouth, inserting them to drink my essence from them. You lick your lips, look over at the hopeful face of the man in the truck and say, in a tone that invites no reproach, “NO!” He smiles and shrugs well naturedly. Blows a kiss to me, salutes you then drop back further into his lane as we move on in our own.






You're smiling, so am I but not for the same reasons, at least not entirely. I tuck my breasts back into the front of my bra and turn towards you, leaning forward to kiss your smiling lips quickly. Even though I've just had my own pleasure fulfilled I'm still just as hot, if not more so now, as I'd been when we'd begun. “Did you like that baby? Did it make you hot?” I tease. Knowing damned well it had because there was a very evident wet spot of precum that had soaked and darkened a large area on your jeans; your cock is rock hard and fully defined under the tight material. “Hell yes it did! I'm about to explode right now… Damn!! I don't believe what we just did” Your jaw is tight with restrained lust but wonder in your eyes at our new daring.






I smile widely. You wouldn't stop me now, couldn't because you were so ready for what I'd wanted to do earlier. This time when I reached for your belt you lean back and scoot forward a bit so that I can free my lovely prize. I use my tongue to dip into the crevice to collect your nectar before swirling it over the sensitive head of your cock then taking you fully into my mouth. You tangle your hand in my hair, massaging the back of my head and neck as I begin to pick up the rhythm of my strokes. You can't move your hips too much but you do enough to let me know the pace you want to set. This isn't going to be slow and leisurely, you're hot from our performance and ready to burst! Good God! I've gotta get off this road! I hear the strain in your voice and know the tidal wave is about to break.






I feel the car moving off to the side but I'm not sure where we're going. What I know is that you don't have enough control to cum and drive at the same time. I feel the car curving first to the right then harder to the left, then right again. The next thing I know, you're pulling your shirt the rest of the way out of your jean, pushing my shoulders to push me away as you gingerly tuck yourself into you pants… “What the hell…?” I'm confused momentarily but as I finally look up and around I see that we're in a rest area, already parked towards the end of the parking lot away from the other cars and the facility. You twist the keys savagely out of the ignition, jump out of the SUV, run around to my side, jerk open the door and reach for my hand. I'm grinning from ear to ear, knowing where your mind has gone and I'm right there with you! I've pushed my sandals onto my feet, shoved my purse under the seat and hit the lock button on the door as I jump out beside you. We laugh and try not to run towards the secluded shelter house that we've spotted away from the other travelers, consisting mostly of trucker but enough passenger vehicles to make us not want to draw their attention. The last thing we needed was to have a 'friendly chat' with someone. We make it to the shelter unseen… As soon as we're behind the wall that blocks the view of the facility you pull me hard against your body, wrapping one of your hands into my hair kissing me hard while the other hand is unfastening my bra under the back of my shirt. I love it when your passion is so stoked there's this blinding primal intensity that strikes an answering chord in me and we set out to devour each other. I quickly unfasten your pants, gently freeing your throbbing member. I sweep my bra and the front of my shirt over my head, leaving them on my shoulders in case I would need to pull them into place quickly but liberating my breasts for your handling. You do the same, knowing we both need to feel the heat of flesh to flesh. I wrap my arms around your neck, pressing the length of my body hard to yours as you step us towards the edge of one of the picnic tables in the shelter. As soon as I felt the edge pressing into my behind I hopped up on the edge. Thank god for the mistrust of state rest areas! The tables were bolted to the concrete so they were wonderfully stable! As soon as my ass was planted firmly on the table top I wrapped my legs around your hips, pulling you to me. You entered me readily, slamming fully to the hilt in one mighty thrust, burying yourself deep into my welcoming womb. “Mmm baby! You feel so good inside me! Ah please love, take me, and show me what's yours!” I gasp, breathing hard as you pound into me. A steady strong stroke that has my breasts bouncing hypnotically before your eyes. You bend you head to torment my hard nipples between your lips & teeth, the feel of your hair over my naked flesh like feathery fingers driving me wilder before you capture my breasts in your hands, squeezing them together, rolling my nipples between your fingers till they are rosy pink hard knots of sensation as you kiss take my breath into your mouth as our lips crush each others & our tongues taste the heat of a different erotic dance. My hands are on you forearms, pulling my pelvis into yours, rolling my hips, caught up in the glorious tension building again in my body in answer to yours. You continue to temper the hardness of your cock in the heat of my canal, leaning back enough to watch yourself entering and retreating between the engorged magenta inner folds as they wrap your steely flesh in the most intimate of kisses, adding your own milky gloss to those lips. Panting, sweating, you growl between clenched teeth, “God doll, I love seeing myself moving in and out of that sweet flower! I'm ready baby!” I know what this means, my legs go up, onto your shoulders, you grasp my thighs as I lift my hips higher as you lean forward. We're both dizzy with passion, our bodies tense. I feel the strain of your body; hear your breathing become ragged as the moan that's closer to a growl starts low in your throat and know this is it. Your body locks… Your head is back; your neck is taunt and strained. There's something entirely erotic and intoxicating to me in that one gesture - a sort of sexual surrender and vulnerability that has always caused me a slam of instant pleasure. I reach the pinnacle first, my body racked with spasms of ecstasy! The clench and relaxing of my pussy catapulting you over the precipice and you bury your cock fully into my womb, spilling your seed deep into the contracting passageway with a cry of triumph. You collapse onto me, breathless and spent. I hold you, stroking you hair as you stroke my breast. At the same time the realization of what we've done hits us and we both laugh at our daring. “Well, this has been quite the exciting trip hasn't it doll!” You grin and wink as you lean on your elbows gazing into my eyes.






“Absolutely and the trip isn't over yet! Who can guess at what might happen next!” I tease kissing your smiling lips.






We get up, adjust our clothing and slowly start back to the SUV. As we drew closer to the end of the parking lot where it was parked a group of men that was standing outside the facility doors began to whistle in appreciation and clap with wolf howls but staying were they were. We were both confused, staring at the men as if they were insane as we quickened getting into the SUV. “What the hell do you think that was about, there wasn't anyone around…” You wonder aloud. We hadn't noticed a young couple just returning to their car but they both laughed, winked and the man said, we understand how you feel and what that's about…” he nodded his head back towards the men. He pointed to an area about half way up one of the lighting polls. We both looked up and noticed the cameras… Looking around we saw more and surely there must have been one in an isolated shelter house for security purposes. We looked back at the still grinning couple. This time it was the woman, “Yep, you two just gave one hell of a performance for a very surprised but appreciative audience!” “I'll be damned!” You swore incredulously. You looked at the men, looked back at me, a slow grin spreading across you face, devilment lighting your eyes. You winked at me, turned towards the men, we gave an exaggerated bow, jumped into the SUV and drove off laughing our asses off!






“Good God woman, do you always get what you want?” You tease smiling.






“Only those things I want most for all the right reasons sexy man! One day you'll learn not to try and deny me what I really want because I'll find a way of making you want to give it to me…” I smile back, more than just a little pleased with myself.






You look at me, shake your head and chuckle. I know that what ever time we may have lost you'll make it up with a heavier foot, at least till I decide to distract you again!






I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did taking it!

*EEB - Shut Up & Drive (08-18-2007)

Earlier Entry Blog***

I've loved cars for as long as I can remember. I've also loved either the idea or the reality of driving for equally as long. Once upon a time when it was safe to leave the kids in the car while the adults went into the store I would jump into the front seat as soon as I could where I'd immediately begin pretending to drive my younger sister and brother to parts unknown but enthusiastically imagined even though my feet couldn't yet reach the pedals on the floor. (I was a road trip kind of gal even then! *grin*) I spent many happy hours sitting in the front seat rambling roads to anywhere my fertile imagination would take me. I'd watch the beautiful cars and dream of one day owning them, taking care of them, showing them off and showing off in them.
When I finally became of age to learn to drive I did so in a boat of a 1965 Cadillac Sedan Deville! Serious land yacht (and it was purple!) but it had all the most modern of technologies for it's time. (It wasn't new; in fact it was just over ten years old when I was 16 and able to drive legally for the state of Ohio) If any of you are familiar with that car it had the very touchy power assist brakes, the tilting/telescopic steering wheel, the light sensors for the brights on the trim that topped the fenders, the "scan" feature on the radio, primitive power steering and could fit at least twenty people and their luggage! OK, so I'm exaggerating but not by much! This beast had a 472 big block and would run like a bat outta hell if you could manage to keep it on the road swinging on that steering wheel because the steering was so loose you looked like you were dancing with the car to get it to stay straight on the road! And Lord help you the first time you had to touch those damned brakes! You really were going to stop on a dime and you were going to need the change to buy new underwear because you'd soiled the ones you were wearing! Even though I learned to drive in that car at 16, I wasn't destined to get my license right away. My mom was a single parent, even though in those dark ages, I took drivers education through the school I wasn't able to go to the driving instruction lessons because they were scheduled on Saturdays. My mom always had to work and my getting my license wasn't as imperative to her as it had been for me. Does that mean that I didn't drive because I wasn't legal? NOT ON YOUR LIFE!!! Mom got rid of the grape monster after it had been stolen and stripped bare and left on cinder blocks and got a 1969 Chevy Impala. Oh what fun I had in that car! It had a 327 small block and my brother, who'd just started learning to tinker around with cars, built the top half of the engine as funds for a young man would permit. Mom never knew how many sets of keys I'd had made to that car or just how far and wide my travels took me along with anyone else who wanted to go and had the money for gas. (I didn't eat lunch so I could put that money into precious fuel) Mom also had a baby blue conversion Ford Econoline van, that was fun too but it didn't have the kick that the Impala had. Yep, mom would take off for work, I'd grab my set of keys and off my friends and I would go. She found out a few times that I had keys, even took them from me but I always had a backup. *grin* When I turned 18 I was at the license bureau taking my test - getting myself legal finally. That just made me worse! We lived in a boring little rural town, New Carlisle, Ohio, where the nearest life existed about 20 or so miles away in Springfield. I would drive that Impala on this hilly twisting back road to the big city and get there in less than 15 minutes. My brother eventually took his natural talents to the Joint Vocational School in Springfield where I was so proud to find out that he'd brag to his motor head friends that his sister could out drive any of them. And I really could! You can ask him! *grin* I'm sort of an oddity among women. Not that there aren't others like me out there who have the same natural affinities for this but we are a rare breed. I anticipated the road, felt the road through the car and the cars responses. I'm directionally literate and find it pretty hard to get lost which is another reason why I feel I was born to drive. I habitually hydroplaned that Impala, actually went airborne hill hopping just to get that tickle in mine and my passenger's stomachs. Oh yes, I was a reckless teen but then I was typical – I thought I was invincible.
My mom had gotten us each an insurance policy when we'd been born and the deal had always been that as soon as we were of age, working and could buy our own policies, we could cash the old one in and use it for whatever we wanted. It hadn't been for much, $1000, but I'd always known that I was buying my own car with mine. Oh and I did too! My first love in a car and a huge mistake all at once. The money was burning a hole in my pocket and I scoured the Tradin Post for weeks before running across the ad for a 1974 Chevy Monte Carlo. Oh what a dream she was! Black as night with an electric sun roof, plush burgundy interior, swivel captain seats, console with king/queen shifter, and under the hood was a roarin 454 big block. I should have known that she was too good to be true but I fell in love the moment I saw her. I have always and still now have a soft spot in my heart for the Monte Carlo. How could you not love those body lines? My dream car would be a 1987 Monte Carlo SS Aero Coupe, double induction hood, sort of like the style on the new Trans Am, in a flashy red with black interior, gold accents and a built 427 under the hood… *sigh* (Or I sure wouldn't turn down a cherry red Chevy SSR either! A gorgeous machine! *wink*) I've loved the Monte Carlo with a passion since and no matter what I'm doing they always catch my eye and make my heart skip a beat. But that black beauty broke my heart. My brother had warned me not to go out looking at cars unless he was with me. Oh I know it was because he wanted to prevent me from buying something he's end up having to work on if it wasn't what it should have been but when I wanted to go see this one he was no where to be found. I felt panicked because the woman selling it had someone else looking at it and I knew that if I didn't jump on it I would lose it. I was 19, impulsive and far too naïve for my own good. Besides, what the hell could my brother detect that I couldn't I reasoned. So my mom took me to see her. Hindsight being 20/20 I should have let that one go but I was captured by her other obvious charms. I did learn a few valuable lessons… 1) Don't buy a used car that hasn't been gone over by someone who knows cars better than you think you do. 2) Even if it looks fantastic there's gotta be something wrong with it if the seller is willing to take less just to get rid of it. 3) Fifty weight oil covers a world of sins when it comes to the sounds a spun bearing makes…
There was the problem. I paid the woman, got the title, got her home where my brother proceeded to rip my ass for buying it without him being there. Of course I was resentful because when I'd needed him to be there he hadn't been anywhere around. The next day, heart breaking, I tried to undo the damage. I called the woman who'd sold it to me to get my money back. She wasn't reachable. Seems her and her boyfriend had left the state that morning on my dime. Though I didn't really find that out till I'd shown up for court after filing in small claims hoping to get my money back. Needless to say, I never did. I won but what good is that when she didn't bother to show up and she wasn't even in Ohio anymore? I'd spent all I had on the car so I didn't have the money to have the engine either rebuilt or replaced. My brother had me spooked so bad telling me if I dared drive it at all that it was going to throw a piston right through the side of the block and out the fender so I parked it in the driveway and let it sit without driving it for months. I'd often go out into the car, sit in it and cry because it was just a sin that such a machine should be wasted sitting still and there was nothing I could do about it.
My mom had gotten rid of the Impala and had lost the van to the repo man when she'd injured her back at work and was unable to pay the loan on it so between her and I we had to drive an ugly little Vega wagon back and forth to work. Still ever the lead foot, I could ping that little tin can pretty good up and down that old country road back and forth from home to work. That is until that fateful day in August when I'd decided on a whim to run back home in the time I had between when I got off work to when I had to go pick my mom up from her job. Another lesson to learn… Bald tires have no traction and they are especially useless when you hit fresh tar and gravel at 70+ mph! I was on the last leg home when I came over a hill and hit that fresh stone. The back swung to the right, I compensated but the front right tire blew and I went nose first into a six foot deep and wide drainage ditch. The car flipped end over nose and then rolled, they tell me, a couple times sideways till it landed right side up, nose in ditch facing back towards the road. Now let me tell you just how very lucky I am to be here today… I didn't wear seat belts then and again I'm told, in this one instance that may have been what saved my life. I remember that as the car rolled sideways I was freefalling inside the car like tumbling inside a dryer, rolling across the emergency brake on the console and into the passenger seat. At one point my head went out the side passenger window, hitting mud. The resilient ground bounced my head back into the car just before the top of the car would have come down and crushed my head. I remember hearing the crush of the metal behind my head right after I'd bounce inward again. When the car stopped and I opened my eyes all the windows had been popped out of the car and the top was totally bent sideways. There is a humorous side – when I realized what had just happened I looked around and I began to cry pitifully. There was someone running down to me from the road telling me that an ambulance had been called and was on their way. I kept crying and when the paramedics got there they started asking me if I was hurt. I remember telling them that I was ok, I could get out of the car myself if they'd just let me, I didn't feel any major pain. THEY so?Easy answer in my mind, when my mom saw the car SHE was going to kill me! She didn't obviously but at that moment I didn't know she wouldn't. I really was very lucky, I escaped with nothing more than being covered in mud, bruised horribly like someone had beat me and a set of stitches across my backside from having slide across that emergency brake. I also became a hell of a lot more of a cautious driver after that incident.
Eventually, when I finally realized that there was not going to be some sudden windfall of money that would allow me to make the needed repairs I sadly sold my Monte for $500. (I also thought of killing my brother when a couple months later after getting my tax return he pointed out that if I hadn't sold her, which he had harped on me to do because he wasn't going to work on it, I could have used the return to get another engine. Grrr!!! Not that I think he wouldn't have put it in for me if I'd been able to get it but I think he still wanted to punish me for getting it without him being there in the first place. Not like he ever worked on it anyway but the point was moot by then. It had been worse for it to sit there tormenting me - a constant reminder that I couldn't be out driving her and there was nothing I could do to fix her either. Every other aspect of the car was perfect. It had only been that damned engine!
I had some other beaters along the way, a couple more Montes in fact but they were sadly lacking in the class that first one had even though they at least ran! It wasn't until 1987 that I felt like I'd finally gotten my dream car. An older friend of my brother had a constant turn over of cars that he'd buy, redo in one form or another, drive them a short time then sell them so he could be on to a new project. Oh that man put together some gorgeous rides! I was friends with both him and his wife so when they had problems and she'd left him I'd spent a lot of time talking to him and her on the phone trying to get them to work things out. It was during that time that he'd decided to put together a 1982 Monte Carlo. As soon as he'd told me his plans I told him I was going to buy it from him. That's how this car was put together specifically with me in mind. He'd consult me on what he was doing and asked me what I'd like. He took out the six cylinder and put in a 350, put a shift kit in the transmission, popped and filled the trunk lock, added a Hurst spoiler to the back, shaved and filled all the emblems, put in a toggle for the trunk, power antenna and had the hood louvered. I think he had it painted blue to match my eyes. *wink* She was my baby. Of course not every thing that could have been done was because we all had limited incomes so we did what we could afford. I bought the car for $3000 but she was worth so much more to me. I used any excuse I could to drive that car anywhere I could. *grin* And I should say now that by then I'd gotten married and my husband was not allowed to drive my car unless under dire emergencies. I figured we'd bought him two new cars since we'd been married so he didn't need to touch mine. Besides, he was safer in his economy cars, mine was too much for him to handle. As I said, she wasn't perfect. When Mike had changed out the engine he'd not changed any of the suspension or steering components so I had to be extra cautious of dips in the road which cause the wheel well to slam down on the suspension. Within the first year I'd put almost another $2000 in replacing that as well as new shocks and tires. I loved the looks and comments I got with that car. No matter where I'd go people would crane their necks to get a look…
Now, the not so nice part of my story… There has always been something lurking on the edge of my passion for cars and driving… When I was nine years old I was diagnosed with a genetic vision disorder called Retinitis Pigmentosa. The best way to describe it is that it's a reduction of the circulation in the eye. Just like any other cell in the body those in the eyes produce waste that has to be removed. Unfortunately for those of us with RP the waste isn't removed fast enough so that eventually a plaque builds up on the rods, which process light for night vision, and cones, which process light for day vision, of the retina and causes them to atrophy and die. RP is a fickle thing. It can progress very slowly or rapidly and differently for no apparent reason. There is no cure and it does lead to eventual blindness by reducing visual fields and the ability to process light and images, though thankfully, not usually total black blindness as most people would imagine it to be. Most with RP are still able to read with assistive devices and hold jobs in the workforce but they will use some sort of assistance, more so as the disease progresses. The first indications were when I was little I'd walk into things in a dark room because I couldn't see them. The night vision is the first to be affected. Because of this I never drove at night. Of course when I was a teen I thought this was the most horrendous injustice there could have been and spend plenty of time throwing myself pity parties. Again with that gift of hindsight I realize that not being able to drive at night most likely kept me from getting into trouble of one kind or another that was a bit harder to find in broad daylight. It also meant that I had to chose my friends more carefully because even if I weren't driving someone else was and I had to literally trust the people I was with to be my eyes if I was with them at night. Of course teens want their independence which means I felt isolated even more at times because sometimes those friends simply didn't want the responsibility of looking out for me. I think that's why my ability to have that freedom that driving gave me, even if it were only during the day, was oh so valuable to me.
As I got older more of my daylight vision was becoming affected. I began to drive less. Mostly out of the fear of what I might miss more than what I could no longer actually see. Common sense ruling out, if I wasn't comfortable with the conditions of the day then I wasn't driving. As much as I loved driving I loved living more. I hated that this disease was stealing this love of mine away from me. The Monte sat for longer periods of time in the garage. The paint was dying, the exhaust needed replacing and I simply couldn't afford to do anything but watch her suffer. The only reason I didn't sell her then was that I couldn't let her go and she did come in handy when my husband's car had to have work done on it so he'd have to drive her, still as gently as a baby, during those times. During her dormancy my mother passed away. My brother, sister and I got some money from the estate and after a time I decided to bring my girl back to glory. I had a custom exhaust put on her, new brakes all around, new headliner to replace the one falling down, and last but not least, a much needed and better paint job. Again she was gorgeous! We were taking her to cruise-ins now and showing her off. I'd never had the money to put into glaming up much more than the interior and exterior so under the hood didn't look like a jewel but she ran with all she had when I'd step into it. *grin* In the time that I owned her, from May of 1987 till March of 2003 I put just under 20,000 miles on her and she showed that she'd been loved. Maybe it's because she looked like such a jewel that again it broke my heart to have her sit in the garage. My husband, though a good man was never into cars. My brother had long since moved to another state so I no longer had him to share and feed my passion for cars. So in a decision that I regret every moment I decided to sell my beauty. I don't think I was all that serious to begin with. That's why I was asking $5000 for a car that was over 20 years old and still had some major flaws to be taken care of. I also hadn't foreseen how that body style in all the GM makes would become so popular and that so many of the young men where salivating to get their hands on one and mine was a big prize at that price. So I sold her to a young man who I was later told tried to pass himself off as being the one who put her together. Guess he hadn't counted on a woman taking her car to cruise-ins over the years so others going the circuit knew where she came from and who had loved her so.You may ask why I find it so important to be telling you this story… Because I know that some of you understand my passion for the cars we love and all they represent to our life. They are so much more than transportation. They're extensions of whom and what we are; they're our art, our power, our freedom and all on wheels which makes them a portable history of our life. I also tell you this because there's a thief who has stolen that from me. My passion remains but I no longer am able to see well enough to drive at all. It's like a piece of who I am has been wiped out along with my sight and I ache from the hollowness that remains. I still persuade my husband to go to cruise ins but it's not the same without having something to show off and oh what I'd give to have that again, even if I wasn't able to be the one behind the wheel anymore. Seeing a Monte Carlo now still tugs at my heart but it also reminds me of what I'm missing. Most of all I tell you this because this disease still exists. It's still robbing me and others of the loves we have and the dreams we once dreamed. I still dream of driving to those far away places in a glorious machine that others envy but I'm afraid they're only that now, dreams. If by chance this may have touched a kindred heart then please, just a request if you will – help put an end to this thief, give a donation, anything you'd care to give on behalf of the love of cars and the joy and freedom they bring, please do so at http://www.blindness.org/