I find night time to be quite the appropriate canvas for mischievous play. It’s not that I reject the intricacies that can be better crafted with the aid of full light, but it’s that I was raised believing that nothing good happens after midnight. So, I set out to prove my parents incorrect.
For an entire two years, Monday to Friday at exactly 8PM, I had a nightly encounter with this unknown young lady who drove a high-end white convertible. The allure projected by wind blowing against long hair radiates as much as the morning sun after a good night of sleep; the type that makes you feel alive, forcing a deep breath upon sight. I can still see her hair waving in the wind as she sped away, thinking, wondering where she was going.
When driving at low speeds, I swear, I mean it, I could smell her perfume. It was a fruity scent, one more suited for day events such as work. She had to have been coming from her job, as was I. I always stayed late, working too hard for little pay too often. Because I don’t believe in randomness, I questioned whether she was a carjacker trying to steal my car. I quickly gave up on the idea that she was out to get me as she was the one who’d disappear into the night. I also drove a white convertible, what is known as an import tuner; nothing as seductive as she drove, nevertheless I found it intriguing that we drove similar vehicles.
It’s a sweet memory, that of how it all came to be. I am a sucker for cruising at low speeds, especially on this roadway that went some 30 miles with the Atlantic ocean on one side, and a Chanel on the other. The smell of the coast intertwined with the onset of nighttime was sensational. During the early spring even, though in the morning, flocks of Monarch butterflies migrated in land. They covered the entire horizon. It was because of the relative solitude of the roadway that the pavement wasn’t covered with them from collisions against passing traffic. Oh, but the nights, the memories that it brings.
I was traveling east, the sun was about to set. I was attentive more to the surroundings than I was to the roadway. That evening the vehicle behind me caught my attention. It was attractive automobile, and not many of those frequented this particular roadway. A two lane roadway on each direction almost flawlessly flat surface. The driver, a lovely young woman, flickered her lights asking of me to give way. I didn’t oblige as I was already on the left lane, and at well below the maximum speed of 55MPH. She should have passed me on the right… She flashed her beams again, I took no action. After some minutes she pulled to the right lane besides me, looked over, smiled and accelerated. She returned to the left lane ahead of me, raised her right hand, waved goodbye and disappeared into the distance.
As such were my Monday to Friday drives home for about three months when I decided to play games with her. I felt that with my tuner I should be able to keep her at bay. The next evening I saw her coming right behind me, but this time she came closer to my rear bumper than she normally would. When she tried to move to the right lane to come adjacent to my vehicle, I pressed firmly against the gas pedal. I sped away over twice the speed limit. The sound of tuners is quite annoying, and rather loud at that speed. That alone should have deterred her from keeping up. I thought she hadn’t a chance to catch up to me. But lo-and-behold, I saw her head lights coming closer to me to the point where I purposely decelerated to see her reaction. She pulled next to me, nodded in acknowledgment of my game, and slowly accelerated. I kept up with her for nearly 20 miles at high speed. She’d look at me, I would look at her; she’d smile, I’d smile; she’d blow kisses, I’d trap them. Just a few miles shy of the roadway coming to an end, that young lady would press heavily on the accelerator of her high-end automobile, and leave me smelling exhaust smog, staring at her taillights.
I was astonished that the young lady was capable of leaving me behind while traveling nearly three times the maximum speed. Yet, she did. I’d watch her hair beat all about behind her head, her hand raised high above waving goodbye. For the better part of a year I tunned my vehicle hoping to prevent the shame of losing to her every night. I never did win, she always managed to pull passed me. The nights she couldn’t play she’d rush passed me waving goodbye. There was no need chase on those days, I would have never caught up to her.
One night I was late, very late from work. And to my surprise guess what struck my fancy? Yes, that young lady was running late as well. It was nearly 11PM at night. I was cruising as I normally would have in her absence, suddenly a vehicle sped passed me, I knew it was her, but didn’t think she captured that it was I in the vehicle she just left behind. It took her seconds to figure out that it was me. I saw break lights shine bright in the distance. She had slowed down allowing me to catch up. This time our interactions were different. Instead of flirting, she called out to me to keep up regardless of what she did. I swore I would, I had just picked up my car from the last tune I swore to myself I would do. This time I believed I could keep up. We raced away, at our speed it was apparent that the roadway was not meant to be driven at such velocity, but we neglected the flaws of bad roadway craftsmanship, and pressed on beyond the location where in the past she’d wave and disappear into the night. This is the closest in distance to her vehicle that I had ever come, I was pushing my tuner beyond previous plateaus. It whined like a school kid being scolded, I feared it was going to stop me from catching up to her.
Just kilometers later, in the distance, the round-about at the end of the stretch was made visible by the tower light inside it. She continued speeding towards it, I became afraid. It was one thing to go fast in a straight line, but I anticipated that this young lady wanted to take a complete circle in the round-about. I surely was right! She slowed down enough to take a 360 degree circle around the tower, smoke from burning tires hitting my windshield, I pursued but wasn’t as successful. She sped right to the distance towards the same direction in which we just came. I got scared, turned the wheel the wrong way and went spinning into the grass area inside the round-about just feet from the tower. Not to look emasculated, I pressed hard on the accelerator tossing debris in all direction as I tailed-spun out of the round-about chasing after her. Not 2 miles into my pursue, she had come to full stop, and was standing on the side of the roadway. I hit on the breaks forcefully screeching passed her to a halt not a 100 feet away.
I reversed to her location, pulled my window down for absolutely no reason because I was driving a convertible, and smiled. She asked me to pull over on the grassy area to the right of her vehicle. I did, and proceeded to open my door. Before I had a moment to exit the vehicle she came running in, sat on my lap and began to passionately kiss me. We kissed for nearly a hour. Kiss and only kiss for that period of time until she asked me to peel away. My eyes opened wide, I asked her to move to the passenger’s seat, but she rejected the offer saying that she sat where she wanted.
I pulled out of the grassy area and sped to a law abiding speed. She laughed at me and asked me go accelerate if I didn’t want her to exit the vehicle. That I didn’t want, so I sped, faster and faster. The needle hit double the maximum speed for the roadway and she began kiss me again. It was so difficult to drive that fast while kissing, I swerved from side to side in futile attempts to stay steady. I just couldn’t see very well ahead of me. The faster we drove, the more passionately she kissed me, then it all turned. She removed her shirt and bra, which were flown away by the pressure of high wind. She just couldn’t hold on to them. She laughed, continued to kiss me, then somehow struggled my pants opened. She grabbed me, massaged me, and told me that high speeds in nights of bliss demanded naughty pleasures. She continued to run her hands on what was revealed through my open pants, faster, slower, while massaging her butt over my crotch.
What was going to happen I knew, I just didn’t think I’d survive. Her only rule was for me to reach top speed. At this point filled with lust I wasn’t thinking properly, I swore to reach it. The young lady reached down and moved her shorts aside freeing her fortitude. She looked at me and screamed out one more rule. She said that if I tried to look forward and keep steady, we’d inevitable sway and spin out of control, to look in the rear-view mirror and keep the passing lines at the very center of the rear view mirror. The rear lights were just enough to shine light to a few feet behind the vehicle. I did as she requested and was able to maintain a straight line. Unfortunately, it wasn’t for long.
Her hair beat on my face as if being whipped. It hurt but I became sickly pleasured by it. By the time she was able to push me deep in, my driving became ill advised. I swayed from left to right, the young lady screaming not to decelerate. She bounced one me uncontrollably; I fought to keep the car steady as much as I fought back climax in fear of being unable to be pleased and keep this from being the last time we consummated. She tore my button down shirt open, and ran her fingers up my chest leaving behind traces of good. I was scratched, scared, about to climax, and still pressing to hit top speed. I don’t know if I ever did reach top speed, she screamed louder than I have ever heard a pleasing woman scream. She tore flesh from my chest, and my face had taken the fury of hair strands against high wind.
I was victorious in many ways. She proved my parents that good things can happen after midnight. I didn’t climax which also proved to me that there was a God, had it not been for him, I would have peaked, lost control of my vehicle and taken a swim – hopefully to the Chanel because the Atlantic is no fun. And, she gave me memories that I here today still feel deep within me, scars too. The final victory was really the luck that the roadway that late at night is barren.
I drove her home that night. She was too tired to drive home. There was no kiss, no prolonged chat when we arrived at her house. She said “Goodbye, Stranger” and disappeared behind the front door to her house. She walked out of my tuner and into her house without a shirt, her shorts terrible adjusted around her body. That sight made me wished for day light to see what I hadn’t all this time. She didn’t care that her attire was missing, or malfunctioning. The front door to her home closed, then reopened, a hand popped out the door waving goodbye again.
I woke up early the next day to beat her to her vehicle. I thought I’d wait for her with coffee and a bagel. By the time I got there her automobile was gone. I nearly cried, looked around and only found tire marks from what was likely her vehicle. I left her cup of coffee along with the bagel in that very same spot where her vehicle had rested the night before. She truly was gone that morning, as was she at the end of my workdays, vanished as if we had never met. I still travel the roadway from time to time, refusing to discard my aging tuner in hopes we’ll stumble upon each other and go for one more joy ride.
Whoever you were, know that I still look for you in the same roadway at the same time.