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.
The first generation of these cars were carb'd with very quirky and stubborn tendencies when it came to cold starts. In our cold North American climate here, if you left the car outside for a couple of hours with a strong cold wind blowing, the bitch 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 continually until it started.
The poor guy was so proud of his car (he was one hot masculine straight-looking gay male back in those days) - it completely emasculated him when his prized baby wouldn't start for him.
I loved his car. It smelled of him and carried his essence inside - you could feel it every time you got into the car. 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 crotch whenever I drove his car. The upholstery was brown fabric and carried his heat and the smell of him (or at least it did in my imagination). I used to have fun once in a while sucking him off when 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 and that wonderful musky man smelling hard cock of his throbbing when I went down on it.
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 I had to get out and fool with the carb while he cranked and cranked.
He parked it in our underground garage where we lived back then and 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 upset when it wouldn't start for him - that used to really make me extremely horny.
The prospect of him not being able to make it in to work and having to stay home and being frustrated and unhappy that his prized baby let him down yet again.
His frustration always resulted in strong cum sessions if he let me suck him off whenever I did this secretly to his car. I can still feel the heat rising from his suit pants and that rock hard cock - all my senses at full alert - touch, smell, taste, see - a powerful sensual experience that he delivered until he let his load go and then eventually heading back down to his car, cranking it repeatedly and determined until it finally started for him and then him driving off to work with his hard man butt in that seat and his legs spread to give his hairy balls some room with his foot planted on the gas pedal tooling on down the road.
I remember one night I was particularly horny and he had gone to bed and I just had to have some ME 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 - shirt he wore that day to work and his favourite tweed sport coat and wool dress trousers. Commando. I just had to feel where his hot male balls had been all day and the friction of that fabric riding against my cock made me half hard in the elevator as I rode down into the dimly lit P2 parking garage.
His car was sitting there just waiting as I walked over to it where it was parked in that dark garage.
I pulled out his car keys from his sport jacket and felt them in my hand - found the key I needed and opened the driver's side door and stared down at his well worn driver's seat that the interior dome light highlighted perfectly.
