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Romantic Traffic

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An every occurrence it was not, to find oneself so deeply enamored with another soul. Recovery from the non-accident, a collision of hearts just as much as cars, took up valuable time but at last there was freedom from hospital beds and busy nurses with fake smiles. In the back of a taxi cab sat a hunched over figure, stitched and patched and warned to watch where he was going next time by everyone who had seen him thus far. Gary had to see John again while the fantastic memories fresh in mind. 

Contact was brief during their stay, mending from whiplash, cuts, fractures, and bruises. Gary saw his inamorato in a hospital gown only once or twice. It was never enough. As the cab pulled up to a darling maisonette, overgrown with vines and uncut grass, he caught a glimpse of John through the window. The yard's surprising state of disrepair had him wondering but he decided he wouldn't say anything about it for fear of offending. John opened the door as Gary hobbled out of the cab and up the short walkway. 

A brief glimpse to the side, though it hurt a little to crane his neck, and he caught the shine of a glorious red Chrysler parked in the driveway. He stopped short of the entrance to the duplex as John took out keys to lock it from the outside. He motioned for Gary to follow him and he opened the passenger side door, one hand extended towards the seat as invitation. As it was accepted, Gary settled into the leather and took in the new scent, noting that it may have come straight from a dealership. 

John hadn't yet said hello, but neither had Gary, they simply sat in silence for a minute before John put the car in reverse to back out and into the street. As soon as they were on a steady pace, though with an unknown destination, Gary could see John relax tense muscles in his shoulders and slide forward a bit to fit to the contour of the seat. 

"I guess I'll start the greeting," he said, chuckling but with hesitation. They still didn't know each other well aside from a shared kink and the knowledge of associated works of song. "Hello and where are we going?" 

John smiled but his eyes were glued to the road ahead, seeming to take in the dull scenery with clouds threatening to burst overhead. "Nowhere in particular," was his reply.

It wasn't a fulfilling answer but as the time ticked on into a couple minutes, Gary gritted his teeth and then opened his mouth, prepared to ask another question. John put a finger over his lips as indication that Gary should stop talking. This did not deter him. "Are we looking to crash again or is this just a pleasure cruise?" 

"Pleasure cruise. I was thinking about you and I had an idea." John's right hand had a nasty, stitched wound from the thumb and across the palm that Gary observed as it moving towards his belt buckle. It took a minor struggle and swerving but his intentions became clear. He'd exposed himself, hard-on in plain view, leaving Gary to stare for a second. He didn't know how many times John might have been with another man, but they both exhibited clear bisexual tendencies -- or a curiosity for similar flesh, pushed by the thrill of the crash.

With a delicate touch, Gary grazed his own scarred hand over John's inner thigh and watched as he slid down even further into the seat, yet maintained the speed of the car. From there he moved to wrap his fingers around John's cock and massage it to bring it to full rigidity. With that mission accomplished he began with the most traditional of moves in hand-job history. He took care to slide over as much skin as possible but kept a slow pace. 

John still kept to the speed limit but by the way he was biting his lip it was clear he was enjoying it already. Gary's decision to up the ante would only serve to make the drive more interesting. Though it did still hurt his neck as he moved to get the right angle, he managed to twist his seat-belt and tucked the upper strap under his armpit. This left him with full access to John, and he gave a test lick just to seek approval. The breathy, near-moan gave the go-ahead. 

It took just a little extra configuration to allow for Gary to push John's member into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the shaft all the while. The car's suspension only led itself to a rhythmic bouncing that kept Gary's pace even when he felt too stiff to move. John moved his hips, pushing deeper but not enough to cause gagging. He moved one hand off the steering wheel to grasp a tuft of Gary's hair and hold it in his fist, not gentle nor too tough. 

As Gary moved his head up and down, he found himself dizzy -- either the result of having had a concussion or the heat of the moment, perhaps both. He went on in this with only gradual knowledge of the fact that they were going at speeds that were illegal with all certainty. In an effort not to have the sexual aspect end in excruciating pain, he took his lips away and went back to using his hand. Moaning only increased from there on out. 

A glance out the windshield made the rate of speed apparent with marker signs whizzing by and landmarks passing in a split second. It was more than just a little thrilling. One or two more movements and John let out a sigh, cum dripping out of the tip and landing on the steering column and floor. Gary drew his hand away and flashed a grin. As John pulled his pants back up, forgoing any kind of cleaning, he eyed the road ahead of them with fire dancing in his irises. 

"Do it," Gary whispered, his encouragement raspy but full of pure, dripping desire. 

John responded with faux confusion, "Do what?"

"You know what. Let's do it. Crash us! Please?" 

A pause between them left each with eyes on the other. No moves were made for a good minute until John let his hands slip off the steering wheel, losing all control. The cherry red vehicle careened off the road and down a hill, stopping only to hit a ditch and flip a couple times before landing upright again. Inside, the two found themselves in euphoria. There was nothing like the adrenaline high of a car crash, especially to those who found the nature of the whole thing to be as good as porn. 

Gary's head was pressed against the dashboard, blood trickling both from a new laceration and where the stitches had burst during the rollover. All he could see through blurry vision was John, looking back at him in a way both sexual and romantic. Between them, nothing seemed severely damaged but they were right in the glory state of mind with bodies trembling not only from pain but from excitement. The front end of the car was smashed to curled metal and the windshield shattered, leaving sharp and cutting glass all over. 

Their breathing was heavy, their hearts pounding like they were about to burst from their chests. "Thank you," Gary choked out, licking the blood at the corner of his mouth from where a sliver of glass planted a cut.

John, pulling himself back so that he was reclining again, chest heaving as he tried to catch a second wind. "It was my pleasure," he replied. 

"Mine too. Absolutely mine too."

Rain began to drip from a cloudburst, soaking both the car's steaming engine and the occupants within the cockpit. Sirens blared in the distance to herald to signal the coming assistance, though it was apparent both of them would live to crash another day. A hospital trip, a new car, and another road to take -- soon. It was a dangerous game to have a car accident fetish, but nonetheless it was bare, primal sexual fuel pumped into their veins. 

And they were addicted to it.