Warnings: It's a fic for kink bingo. It's kinky, and X-rated. 'Nuff said
There's no harm in going for a drive to keep each other company while missing Sam, right?
Mikaela was half buried in a '65 Mustang, leaning so far over the open hood that she was up on tiptoes, when the horn sounded behind her. The sound was so familiar from many, many afternoons when Sam would swing by to pick her up when she was done work that she actually turned with a smile before she remembered.
Sam was gone, off to college where she couldn't follow. There would be no more lazy afternoon drives, no more lounging on the car hood or cuddling in the backseat up on the ridge. Not until he came home next summer, anyway.
Another person might therefore have been surprised to see Sam's bright yellow Camaro cruising slowly down the street towards her. Mikaela only took a quick look around, checking to make certain her father was inside, before she wiped her hands on a rag and hurried towards Bumblebee. "Hey, what's up?" she asked. "Everything okay? Is something wrong with Sam?"
"It's all right, have a good time, 'cause it's all right, whoa it's all right!" Huey Lewis sang from the radio.
"Still having trouble with your voice?" He came to a stop, and she leaned her hip against the passenger side door, positioning herself so it would be hard for people to see there was no driver. "I'm starting to think Sam's right and you're just playing it up."
"Oh, you hurt me, can't you imagine how I'm feeling now?" a woman's voice crooned.
Mikaela laughed. "So what are you doing here, if everything's okay?"
"Those lonely days turn into lonely nights, yes it do," was her answer, followed by an electronic whine sad enough to break her heart.
"Aw, you miss him, huh?" Her smile turned sad, and she rubbed her hand along the edge of his roof. "Yeah, me too. You don't even get to talk to him online. Not that I've been doing much of that, lately." She sighed. "He's so busy, studying for his exams. Which is better than being busy running for your life, but still. At least then, we were with him."
The engine revved, vibrating the chassis beneath her hip like a purring cat, and the door popped open. The invitation couldn't have been clearer if he'd been able to say it. "Just you and me?" she said, surprised. "You don't mind?"
"And she'll have fun, fun, fun, 'til her daddy takes the T-bird away." He rolled forward a little, nudging her with the open door.
"Well, not like I'm going to say no," she said with a smile, and moved around the door so she could slide inside. The leather seat cradled her like a lover's embrace, and she closed her eyes and breathed deep of the familiar scent of him. Leather and motor oil and something like the sharp scent of ozone, everything she loved about the smell of cars taken to the next level. She could never get enough of it.
The door closed and the engine revved again, and then they were peeling away from the curb with the shriek of tires on pavement. She laughed and opened her eyes again, wanting to watch the world flash by outside. 'Bee was an excellent driver and she trusted him with her life - and there wasn't a cop in the county who could hope to catch him. They could go as fast as they wanted.
A pat on the door got him to lower the window, and the breeze of their passing whipped her hair around her. The air was cool, but the seat was warm beneath her and the contrast was invigorating. They quickly left the city behind and hit the open roads, and Bumblebee cranked the speed another notch.
How many times had she and Sam taken this ride together? It never failed to thrill her; the breathtaking speed of their surroundings whipping by, the powerful purr of the engine and the hum of the wheels on the pavement, the smooth transition as 'Bee shifted gears without missing a beat. And the best part of having a car that could drive himself was that Sam didn't need to pay attention to the road. Making out while 'Bee zipped along was beyond just thrilling, and once they'd even crawled into the backseat and had the best sex ever.
Just remembering it made Mikaela's nipples go tight and rub against her bra, and moisture gathered between her thighs. Well, no, if she was being honest her panties had been a little wet since she'd climbed into the car. Hot cars had always been a serious turn-on for her, and the memories she associated with this particular hot car didn't help.
Sighing, she sank deeper into the seat, squirming a little. It had been too long since she'd last seen Sam in person, way too long. Webcams and voice chats were all well and good, and certainly made phone sex a lot more interesting, but it just wasn't the same. She wanted his hands on her as she came, not just his eyes. It never felt as good when the only one touching her was herself.
Still, it was better than nothing. With her eyes closed and the familiar sounds and scents surrounding her, she could almost convince herself it was just another afternoon drive with Sam. She slipped one hand beneath her shirt, running it up over the smooth skin of her stomach to cup her breast. The lacy bra didn't provide much resistance, only enhancing the feel of it as she flicked her thumb over her nipple.
The sudden crackle of the radio made her jump, and she blushed hard when she recognized the music now flooding the car. She hardly even needed to hear the lyrics to know what it was. "When I think about you I touch myself," the Divinyls crooned.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out, yanking her hand from beneath her shirt. She couldn't remember ever feeling so embarrassed and flustered, not even when she'd been listening to Sam's mom ask if he'd been masturbating that first night. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking. I forgot..." She stopped there, because it felt a little rude to admit she'd forgotten that he was more than just a car.
For that matter, she and Sam had often forgotten about their audience, she realized. She blushed harder as she remembered all the times they'd had sex on or in Bumblebee. Why hadn't he ever said something before?
"Don't stop on my account, darling," a deep voice with a heavy southern accent drawled. A slightly higher voice added with an overtone of excitement, "We're just getting to the good part!"
"Voyeur," she accused him, only half teasing. God, she was never going to stop blushing.
"I've seen everything there is to be shown," Blink-182 told her, and then a woman sang, "I could see it if I was a fly on your wall, yeah."
"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered, but she slowly slipped her hand back beneath her shirt. He had seen it all before, and the fact that Sam wasn't here didn't really make a difference, right? And it did feel better, more like the real thing, when she was here inside him doing twice the speed limit on an empty highway.
'Bee switched songs to something techno and cranked the volume until it vibrated right through her. There were no words, but the steady pounding of the bass beat made the ache of emptiness in her body feel better and worse at the same time. It was almost enough to be a physical touch, and she gasped at the sensation.
Before she consciously realized what she was doing, she'd reached down to undo her shorts. That gave her enough room to slide her hand inside. She moaned when she realized her panties weren't just wet, they were soaked. The thick liquid eased the slide of her fingers against her clit, and she rocked her hips up in time with the beat.
It still wasn't as good as having Sam's fingers or mouth on her, but it was better than being alone in her room. Mikaela moaned and writhed in the seat, quickly working herself into a frenzy of need, her clit swollen and throbbing beneath her fingers.
When he changed the song again, she couldn't stop herself from crying out at the loss of that pounding bass vibration. "I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears," Nickleback screamed, the music still on top volume.
"Is that a suggestion?" she asked, panting. Hesitantly she reached for the gear shift with her other hand. She didn't even know if 'Bee had the parts to have sex, but surely if he did they wouldn't transform into something as cliched and obvious as the gear shift, would they?
The knob was gently rounded and covered in pebbled leather, the texture just a little rough beneath her fingers. It didn't twitch at her touch or anything, though it vibrated as the engine revved again. "Tempted to touch, tempted to touch, little woman, man I'm inside your clutch," the radio sang.
That was when she got it, and the thought made her moan again. "I'm not sure if I'm out of my mind, or you are, or both," she told him breathlessly as she wriggled her shorts over her hips, taking her panties with them and leaving her bare from the waist down. The breeze from the window felt cold against her overheated skin, and she devoutly hoped the road would remain empty.
The roof was low and it was a little awkward to reposition herself so she was kneeling with one leg on each seat. Slowly she scooted forward until she made contact with the gear shaft, the texture on the leather just rough enough for her to feel it sliding over her clit. She shuddered and cried out, rocking her hips to press herself harder against the firm surface. A sharp curve to the right made her shift her weight, and then the stitching on the seam of the leather was in just the right place.
"Do you like it? Say yeah if you like it like that," the radio boomed, and then the techno beat was back, impossibly louder still. Every time he revved the engine the gear shift vibrated a little harder, and in minutes she was screaming as orgasm hit her.
He shifted gears, pressing the stick lower against her body, right against the sharpest part of the empty ache. The knob was big, but with an effort Mikaela managed to ease it inside her. That felt about a million times better, and left her almost sobbing with pleasure when he pushed the engine into overdrive.
She wasn't sure how many times she came; she lost track after the second time, too caught up in the speed and the beat and the forbidden thrill of it to care. Eventually her legs refused to hold her up any more, and she pulled free and collapsed sideways into the passenger seat, panting for air.
She knew she ought to shift around and sit up properly, and fix her clothes. But her limbs refused to answer her commands, her nerves still overloaded. It wasn't the same as having sex with Sam, but it was just as good in a different way. 'Bee lowered the volume again, bringing it down to almost subliminal levels, which helped her recover a little.
"Oh, my god," she said when her voice would work again. "Did I seriously just cheat on my boyfriend with his car?"
"He started it," a child's voice came through the speakers, somehow sounding smug instead of whiny.
She stared at the dashboard. "You're not serious. No, you know what? I don't even want to know. You are such a pervert."
"Those sweet words, what did you say?" a woman sang.
Mikaela couldn't help but laugh. Really, how could she ever love anybody but Sam?
Nobody else had a car half this hot.