It was a warm July evening, I had no tights on just a long flowing skirt and knickers. I was good to go. Andy opened the door of my Cortina and pushed me onto the back seat. With quick movements I lifted up the skirt and kicked off the knickers. Andy was struggling with his belt as he tried to get his trousers own.
“Hurry up” I hissed, “We haven’t got much time.”
He finally freed the belt buckle and lowered his trousers and boxers. His cock wasn’t actually tat big, but, you know, it’s not the size of the wand and all that, so I took it in my hand, moved backward and forwards, felt it getting hard, pulled back the foreskin and saw precome starting to dribble from the bell end. I pit a finger inside me. I wasn’t actually particularly wet but that’s not always a bad thing if you want a hard, brutal fuck is it? I guided him in, hooked my legs round the back of his neck and he slid in really deep. Five hard thrusts and he came before withdrawing and spilling come over the black vinyl seats. He collapsed onto me panting.
“How was that?”
“I haven’t come” I said, “but it was fun. And we’ve baptised the car. Thank you.”
I reached up and kissed him gently on the lips.
He hitched his trousers up and got out of the car. He straightened his clothes with two sweeps of his hands before going back into the pub. I didn’t follow him. I pulled my knicker back up. Leaned over o lick the come of the seat. I sat in the back of my car for a few minutes, felt come start to leak out of me and trickle down the inside of my leg. I reached down and frigged myself for a few minutes. I came and climbed over into the driver’s seat for the drive home.
The Mark 2 Cortina and I went back a long way. My best friend at primary school was called Jane. She had three brothers and we all used to play together. Mr. Oakes, her father, worked as a salesman at a local Ford dealership and had a new company car every year. We always hoped he might get a nice sporty one, preferably a 1600E, with metallic paint, vinyl roof, those sporty wing mirrors like racing cars have, and a rakish roof aerial. But he didn’t. He was, after all, a family man, a father of four, so an estate it was. And the estates were big. We went on outings, eight children in the car, four on the back seat, four in the boot, that’s how it was in those days. The stock car racing at Hednesford Raceway was a big favourite. We would watch from the back of the Cortina, as battered old cars, stripped down, numbers crudely hand painted on the sides, charged round the track among sandy hills, with plenty of crashes to entertain us. The Figure of Eight at the end was always the highlight, crashes galore in that! We used to guess which number car wold be smashed up next. I usually won that one. Mr. Oakes bought us ice cream and we always drove home happy, sliding around in the back of the car, pulling faces at the driver of the car behind.
Some years later, when I was 18 my first serious boyfriend Greg drove a Cortina, a red Mark One with automatic transmission. This was quite an advantage as there was no gear lever to get in the way as I leant over to blow him as he drove. Greg’s was the first cock I ever had in my mouth and, 40 years on, I can still taste him. But we never fucked in the car. I wanted to, I really did but I think he was scared of us getting caught. He said it was to do with his job, he was an office manager. At 18 I wasn’t at all sure what that involved or why it stopped us having sex in his car. And it was only after he told me that we had to split that I found out that he was married. All of which meant that the only Cortina sex I was to have was in a Mark 2. And I am actually quite happy aboit that.
When I was 23 I finally bought my very own Cortina, a 1600E. amber gold with a black interior, registration EAB 521J. It was also quite rusty as I was to find out later but that is a story for another day. I used to attend meetings of a classic ca club in a local pub. I attracted quite a bit of attention as a single girl with a classic car in a predominantly male environment. That is where I met Andy a mechanic who was a few years older than me and told me how he had recently split up from his wife. That is what he said. I am not sure I believed him but the time he invited me to go outside and look at his car I knew what was likely to happen and I was up for it, I was. He wasn’t my type, I realised that, but hey I fancied a bit of rough.
So we went to look at his car. He lifted the bonnet and explained.
“So this is a K and N air filter”
He pointed at a silver thing on top of the engine embossed with the letters K and N.
“Mine looks like an upturned frying pan” I said.
“That’s the standard air filter box. But if you can replace one or two things you can make it go a bit quicker.”
“Don’t you have to tell the insurance company?”
“You do…..but not everyone does.”
He laughed and continued
“And it’s got an electric fan too. Here”
“Andy” I began, “have you really brought me out here just to show me an air filter?”
He shuffled his feet and said nothing.
“Do you want to fuck me? You can if you want.”
I held out a hand and touched his cheek.
He put his arm round me, held me tight, and kissed me. I responded, pushed my tongue into his mouth. I reached for his cock felt it hardening inside his trousers.
“Come on, we’ll do it in mine. I pulled him across to my cat. Reached in my bag for the key. He opened the rear door and pushed me on, lay on top of me on the back seat as I slid down my knickers and he fumbled with his belt.
And so we fucked. And then went our separate ways. A month later my car failed its MoT. Badly. And that was the end of me owning old Cortinas. I still take an interest, still go to shows but I never saw Andy again. I still smile at the memory when I see the shiny old Cortina lined up in the field.
So that is the story of my private life in a Ford Cortina. Maybe you would refer a different ending? There is this one. I hadn’t been sexually Clive for a while and hadn’t been taking the pill. And we never thought about condoms. I never gave it a thought until my period didn’t come. Early one April morning in 1986 I have birth to a girl, 6 pounds 4 ounces, who was to grow up with Andy’s red hair and freckles. We called her Cortina (what else!) and her baptismal robe was aubergine as that was her father’s Cortina colour.
Andy and I stayed together a while but even a shared love of old Fords and our daughter wasn’t enough to keep us together when we had so little in common. Cortina never shared my love of old cars, or any cars for that matter, and stopped going to shows with me as soon as she turned 13 and decided she was old enough not to go everywhere with her mother. These days, she uses her second name Helen, although she knows how she was conceived and why we called her Cortina. I only hope she is not ashamed.
Or maybe the story was just the fantasy of a middle aged woman reliving her youth (or maybe the youth she would like to have had) A lot of my stories blend real people, real places with fiction. You can decide for yourself, dear reader, which ending you prefer, or what is fact (and fiction). I can tell you that EAB 521J was real enough as you can see if you type in the registration number here.
Oh and do check out the brilliant Athena documentary from 1982 if you don’t know why the Cortina is such a cultural icon.