Little Nash Rambler: Beep Beep

After dad relocated our family to a new state for a better job opportunity, I faced major adjustments moving to a new neighborhood while advancing from adolescences into adulthood. First major dilemma, as a young man with new driver’s license, I faced the choice between two hand me down family vehicles: mom’s Nash Rambler or pay dad 100.00 dollars a month for his Mercury Colony Park wagon, plus insurance until paid off. What a quandary? Neither of them could be considered pussy wagons by teenage standards.

Of course, I chose the luxurious Mercury wagon over the ugly Rambler. Visions of passionate sexual exploits such as losing my virginity danced in my head. I planned to utilize the rear quarters of the classy wagon to deflower a beautiful pubescent young woman; however, before dad and I could seal the deal between us with a gentleman’s handshake mom intervened. She considered dad’s car much elegant for me to bum around in. She wanted the later model car to do whatever she did. Mom being mom held seniority and possessed pussy power over dad—She prevailed.

With a knowing smile mom handed me the keys saying, “Take good care of our little Nash Rambler, son.”

Taking the keys from mom I thought, what the hell, the ugly fucking duckling was better than nothing; furthermore, to sweeten the deal and ease the pain of losing, mom said, “We’ll pay the insurance.”

I think to this day that mom read my mind and knew what my plans were. Defeated I trapesed out to the driveway that summer morning to checkout my new ride. I’d lost the battle over the better of two cars due to pussy power. Under blue California sky the sun revealed mom’s gift. I walked around the red car examining the blemish free exterior. The homely little Rambler was my new ride, at least for the time being. Encumbered by melancholy I opened the driver door. My listless body fall inside the vehicle, defeated.

Sitting in the Nash Rambler pouting I began looking around at the pristine interior. Maybe not a bad ride after all I thought. Although I’d ridden in mom’s car many times, I’d never really given the old car a close examination. I reached over, turned on the radio and began tuning it to my favorite station. Sitting there in solitude, music playing in the background I mindlessly pulled on my soft pecker.

Suddenly I heard a strange voice from outside the car: “Beep Beep—Little Nash Rambler.”

Startled, I snapped my head around to see a good-looking blond hair lad wearing fashionable sunglasses and a blue mesh half T-shirt with black numerals 69 on the front, sitting astride a red 20-inch Sting Ray bicycle. Smiling, a big white smile, he stuck his hand through the open window saying, “I’m Philip Longhorn. I watched you all move in. Hope we can be friends. I live across the street, corner house,” pointing towards his house,

“I’m Roy Reckless.” I felt a little flushed hoping Philip had not caught me pulling on my pud.

“My best bud Tim used to live in your new house,” Philip said.

“Really.”

“Why don’t I park my bike, come around and sit inside with you? We’ll listen to some tunes together and get acquainted.”

“Cool.”

The megacool dude pushed his boss bike inside the garage where he leaned it against the workbench with care. My curious eyes followed the slim suntanned teen with wonderment as he strolled around the front of the car. He opened the passenger door and slid inside with ease. Oozing coolness Philip pushed his sunglass up to rest atop his curly blond hair before he said, “Beep Beep…Cool ride, man…Little Nash Rambler.”

“You got to be shitting me…Ain’t nothin cool about this turd.” There, I said it, the little Nash Rambler, my new ride, a piece of shit.

“Better than what I’m drivin,” Philip said. “Ain’t no Corvette but it’ll get us around town, huh.

Damn, a bold statement, I thought. My new friend assumed I’d be carrying his ass around because I had a car and he didn’t. Mom had taken excellent care of the old car. The motor purred like a kitten, the exterior in excellent condition and interior even better. The two of us sat on the plastic covered front seat for over an hour conversing about the neighborhood. One thing led to another as music played in the background.

My eyes focused straight ahead; however, my peripheral vision caught Philip fingering his navel and pulling on his pecker with his other hand as we listened to the music and talked. My pecker began to inflate. In between listening to the music and talking with Philip I learned why he didn’t have a car; he had couple months before getting a driver’s license and that might be doubtful. His initial appearance threw me off, leading me to believe he might be older and just enjoyed riding the bitchin’ bike.

From our conversation I learned his family to be in a state of disarray. His mother a chronic alcoholic who started drinking in the morning and by noon didn’t know who she was, where she was or what she’d done. His father traveled. A salesman for a big pharmaceutical company he was absent most of the time. His three older siblings all grown living on their own with their own problems.

Philip asked somewhat humorously, “So, what you into, other than older classic cars, Beep Beep?”  He continued questioning me, “So, where’d you come from before you moved here?”

Answering the deluge of questions, I gave my new friend the lowdown regarding my life or lack thereof before moving to the new neighborhood. With disheartened tone I said, “No friends yet, ‘cept maybe you. I’m just a geeky ass nerd, play the piano, not into much in the way of sports. Like you, all my brothers and sisters are grown and living on their own around the country. Dad forgot to wear a condom one night seventeen years ago and nine months later I popped out.”

After the down and dirty version of my life before moving to New City, California, mom and dad popped out of the house. They advised me that they were going shopping, having dinner out and would not be back until late that evening after dinner. Dad handed me a twenty and told me to order pizza for my dinner or take my new car for a shakedown ride and find a burger joint. Before they departed, I introduced them to Philip, “Mom, Dad this is my new friend, Philip. He lives in the house on the corner across the street.”

“Glad to meet you Philip,” mom and dad replied in unison shaking his hand. Then mom said, “We’ll have to meet your parents.”

After mom and dad chatted with Philip for a few moments they left on their shopping spree. Philip said, “Damn, your mom and dad are a good-looking couple for older people. So, what’s your dad do?”

Looking out the windshield I said, “He’s the new general manager for New City Lincoln Mercury.”

“What about your mom?”

“She plays bridge as well as other things that support dad’s career.”

While I continued to moon about losing the battle over cars to mom Philip fumbled with the seat adjustment. Suddenly, the front passenger seat back flopped backwards turning into a bed. I turned towards Philip asking, “You done fuckin around?”

“Sorry,” he said lying prone on the full reclined seat. Propped up on one elbow he said. “Man, this’d be bitchin’ at the drive inn with a couple chicks.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“They could suck us off while we watch the movie. Then we could fuck em during intermission.”

I cut the dopey conversation about fucking chicks short saying, “You wanna come inside and check out my room?”

“Sure.”                                                                                                               

Tired of answering questions I turned the car radio off. We got out and began walking towards the front door. Once inside our somewhat cluttered unpacked house I guided Philip towards my room. A barren bedroom with boxes sitting unpacked in the corner. A bed, dresser and small potable television sitting atop the dresser.

“This used to be Tim’s room.”

“Tim?”

“Yeah, my old best friend.”

“I thought I felt ghostly vibes.”

I’d hung posters of hot hunky young athletes and entertainers in different stages of undress on the walls around my room. Philip walked around studying the images. Hot men I many times fantasized about, wishing I possessed their physiques, while beating my meat. “The only thing I got to offer as far as entertainment is some television, my cache of porn magazines, and Kool-Aid to drink.”

“That’s okay, just sit and talk is good with me. Get acquainted.”

Sitting on my bed, pillows pushed behind my back, propped against the wall I gazed across at my new friend. I studied Philip’s remarkable body sitting across from me. He appeared to be doing the same. His sexy body sprawled on my bean bag chair radiated sex. He smiled a lascivious smile.

I began scrutinizing the kid’s lean body. His blue mesh half T-shirt revealed his well-developed midsection. If such exists, he possessed an eight or twelve pack midriff. No fat on this kid. From everything I could see he possessed a well-developed athletic body; furthermore, I could see a noticeable bulge hidden beneath his matching blue mesh shorts. I couldn’t understand my eyes being drawn to the bulge in his shorts or the infatuation with my new friend’s body.

I’d never considered myself queer, but if so, I’d be all over Philip’s bod.  Maybe my new friend was all I hoped to be but wasn’t, an attraction I found undeniable. I began to sense a chilling chemistry brewing between us. Thinking about Philip’s body I launched into conversation. “So, you into working out, body building or sports?”

“Not really, why you ask.”

“You got fuckin great-looking abs; in fact, your entire body is hot as fuck.”

 “Just swim, surf and jog. I played Little League for the church until I aged out, so now I play ball and wrestle on school teams.”

Teenage boy conversation continued, more direct this time around, talking about girls and sexual exploits. Philip wanted to know what all I’d done sexually with girls. My answer simple, “Not too damn much.” The conversation reminded me of my plans for dad’s luxurious wagon. Turning it into a whore house on wheels. “You?”

“I get by.” After a few minutes Philip steered our conversation away from girls towards subjects that appeared more sexually appealing to him, boys.

I could see Philip’s hand continue pushing down inside the front of his shorts playing with his now hard pecker. From what I could see the thing had grown into a good size tool. I wanted to see it all boned up. The conversation got around to size. “So how big’s your dick?” Philip asked.

Taken aback by Philip’s question I paused before saying, “Don’t know never measured. You?”

“Over seven inches,” Philip said.

“Damn! That is a good size pecker.”

I couldn’t believe the boldness of my new friend’s questioning. Without a word Philip got up outa the bean bag and took a seat next to me on my bed. Sitting next to each other our legs began rubbing together, so sexually stimulating, while we continued talking. Before long he took my hand into his and placed it in his crotch atop his hard manhood. With his hand resting on top my hand in his crotch I felt his middle finger stroking the top of my hand. A quality hard cock hid beneath the fabric. My desire to stroke it made me start to perspire.

“You want me to stop?” Philip asked.

For some reason touching his hard cock aroused me. I’d never touched another boy’s penis or experienced sex with another boy, or even girl for that matter. Philip’s ballsy lewdness turned me on and tempted me. Hell, I hadn’t even copped a feel off a girl thus far in life. All I’d done as a teenager—jackoff. Now Philip’s hard pecker had my full attention. “No. I just never…”

Not finishing my thoughts with my right hand resting in Philip’s crotch my fingers began caressing the full length of his hard cock, paying special attention to the bulbous well-defined cockhead. My nipples now hard with arousal and desire. Something I’d noticed of late, whenever I became aroused my nipples became erect and vice versus. Philip reached over flicking the nipple nearest to him smiling at me. A test to see my reaction. I didn’t rebuke him, instead groaned with pleasure. He flicked my vulnerable nipple again and again and again. My groans of pleasure grew louder with each touch.

Without warning Philip’s wet lips covered the nipple nearest him. He began sucking, biting and chewing on it tenderly through the cotton fabric of my T-shirt. Again, I began moaning and groaning. In between moans I said, “Don’t bite down too hard.” Electricity began shooting through my body to my hard cock with tremendous surges of voltage.

Philip moved to the other nipple while his left hand maneuvered its way to my crotch where he began stroking my hardness. I sensed my balls tighten up. I thought, this kid is way ahead of me in the sex department.

“Nice,” he uttered.

I thought, did he know he could make me cum just playing with my nipples.

With vivid imagination I envisioned Philip cornholing me, taking my cherry. The boy looked up every now and then gazing into my eyes with lust of flesh in his eyes.

After skillfully arranging my hard cock so it pointed towards my bellybutton inside my shorts, Philip began effortlessly easing over on top of me. With spontaneity we began dry humping. Dry humping pillows is an old masturbation technique that every boy learns during puberty and tried at one time or the other.

With Philip between my spread legs he began engaging me in slow easy movements, grinding his crotch into mine while I reciprocated without conscious thought. I could feel his robust cock pressing into me. All I could do, ride with him. A novice to sex at that time in my life anxiety began to overwhelm me as his body overpowered my hot-blooded body.

I’d read about and even seen photos of guys taking huge cocks up their asses; however, I’d never experienced anything like that yet in life. I somewhat dreaded the thought of being penetrated by Philip’s rather large pecker. We continued grinding our bodies together. Occasionally, as he rode forward, he’d stop, uttering, “Beep Beep.” He had my T-shirt pushed up exposing my hard nipples. Occasionally, he would take a hard nipple in his mouth and with it between his teeth he let his tongue stroked the top if it. That fucking drove me crazy with desire.

Our moans of pleasure began to parallel the intensity as we both toyed with each other. I squeezed his globes with both hands, pulling him into me, massaging the mounds. I sensed an orgasm building. Philip drove his body into mine and I reciprocated. “Beep Beep,” it was as if we were playing out the lyrics in the song the little Nash Rambler. Philip the Cadillac and me the Nash Rambler, competing. I’d show Philip I could keep up.

“Oh, I fuckin want you baby,” Philip whispered.

For some unexplainable reason I desired Philip. Although I’d never experience it, I decided at that point I wanted my new friend to fill my ass with his big hard pecker, blow a massive load of cum inside me, take my cherry. Our bodies shuddered. Suddenly, we both experienced explosive orgasms seconds apart. Physically drained we both lay atop each other, breathing hard and sweating.

We’d started out slow dry humping and before long we’d reach hundred miles an hour. Around a hundred and twenty we both ejaculated with explosive force. The squishiness I detected inside my shorts and wetness seeping through Philip’s told me that we’d both unloaded tremendous volumes of cum. As I lay there on my bed with Philip lying on top, I decided Philip and I would become more than best buds: Beep Beep.