Gawking, I simply stood there. But I wasn’t gaping at a pretty woman. I know better than to ogle another human being like a horny fool. Instead, my attention was focused on a car parked at the curb.

Why? Because it was my car.

Or at least, it used to be mine. I looked it over yet again, as if I might have made a mistake. But my brain had already confirmed the reality of the situation. Beyond model and color, there was the identical wear and tear to the vehicle.

I’d driven that thing onto a used car lot, sold it and driven off in a different set of wheels. I had thought I’d made a good deal at the time. Actually, I still thought that. But in the months since making the trade, I’d gotten very nostalgic about my old ride. Good times had happened for me with, and in, that auto. I had some cherished memories associated with it.

And now, in a city a hundred miles away from where I’d last seen it, my old car was parked before me.

I was in town to attend a friend’s wedding, which was the following day. With the evening to kill, I’d left my motel room to look for dinner and happened upon my ex-car.

Is that a thing? Can you have an “ex-car” like an ex-girlfriend? My emotions were weirdly riding high. It wasn’t just pointless sentimentality. I thought of former relationships which had gotten their starts in those seats — me taking some girl out to dinner, to a movie, and then driving her back to her place for a romp in her bed.

Good times. Important times. The women in my life had shaped me. Over the years they’d certainly helped me grow. I liked who I was, and a lot of that was because I’d learned charm and manners and kindness. I could have the hots for a woman and let her know it without coming off like a drooling toad.

Someone cut across my line of sight and thumbed a couple of quarters into the nearest parking meter. It was the meter for the car I had been staring at.

The woman who’d fed the meter glanced my way. A not-quite frown creased her brow. She had a confident posture. She pursed her full lips as if deciding whether or not to ask why I was looking at her car.

I volunteered, “I used to own it.”

“Beg pardon?”

“This car.” I quickly explained myself. I mentioned all the vehicle’s idiosyncrasies, so she’d know I was telling the truth. As I spoke, I noted how pretty she was. I delivered some of my hard-won charm, then told her why I was in the city and what I was doing out that night.

She sized me up, and I thought I saw a glint of interest in her eyes.

After a moment, she said, “Look, I’ve been running errands and I’m hungry. There’s a good diner at the end of the block. Want to join me?”

“I’d be delighted. I’m Wesley.”

“Helena. Come on, you can tell me about your glory days in that ride.”

I laughed, wondering if she read minds. But it was just that she was perceptive, which quickly became clear when we sat down in the respectable greasy spoon for dinner. I liked the rhythms in which she spoke. Her gestures were assured. When she expressed an opinion, she meant it.

I did not, of course, tell her too many details about my “glory days” in her car. I was already attracted to her and didn’t want to cloud things with talk of other women.

She was still looking me over, but this time her gaze was like a heat I could feel through my clothes. She’d taken her time to assess me — no doubt that was why she’d asked me to dine with her — but she had seemingly made up her mind.

“Well, Wesley,” she said after we’d split the check. “I’ve got one last errand to run. But it’s outside the city limits. Want to come for a ride?”

I didn’t start bouncing around like an eager puppy. But when I said, “I’d love to,” I put enough spin on the words to let her know I found her interesting — and not just because we’d had an automobile’s history in common.

Once we were both in the car — her car — she drove off, handling the vehicle with the same assuredness she exhibited in everything else she did. Soon we were on the highway, and the city fell away. The moon was coming up, and country dark closed in quickly around us.

Helena reached over and dropped a hand on my leg. A shiver went through me, but I was too surprised to say anything.

In a soothing voice she said, “I plan to move my hand up your thigh until I’m cupping your crotch. If you don’t want me to do that, you should say so now.”

I simply stayed silent and watched in delight as her hand did indeed ride up my leg. By the time she was groping me, my cock had sprung to full hardness inside my pants. She kept one hand steady on the wheel and squeezed my junk with her other.

I groaned to let her know how good her hand felt. She flashed a grin and took the next exit. In a few minutes we were on a quiet two-lane road, then she pulled off under some trees and cut the engine. Nothing moved outside the car windows.

“Let’s get in the back,” she said.

We scrambled over the seats, shedding clothes as we went. By the time we were nestled together across the backseat, we were both naked. Her tits heaved with her fast breaths. Her nipples stood hard, and my cock throbbed, pressing against her belly.

Our mouths came together, and our tongues danced. Desire was crackling between us like static electricity. Her skin was so smooth, the feel of her intoxicating.

Of course, that wasn’t the first time I’d fooled around with a woman on those same seats. Remote images flashed in my head — groping, sucking, thrusting. Those bygone romps etched into my memory were now overwhelmed by the writhing presence of Helena.

She squirmed against me, her hands moving over me. She groped my ass, then slipped a hand between us to seize my cock. I gasped as she pumped me, and pleasure coursed through me. She shifted and licked my throat. I caressed her breasts, and she moaned, moving her mouth further down and kissing my chest.

She moved deftly over the seat, and I wondered, without a flicker of jealousy, how many other guys she’d had in the back of that car. Soon she’d maneuvered herself down between my legs. She cradled my balls as she licked my belly. Then her mouth fell onto my swollen cockhead. My whole body jumped, and my thighs closed around her shoulders. Her tongue moved hungrily, swirling around my knob. The ring of her lips slid down my straining shaft.

The windows were fogging with our activity. It made the nest of the backseat seem even more cozy, like we were in our own little world.

Helena sucked me all the way down with a rumbling groan of pleasure in her throat. Those vibrations made my balls hum in her hand. Her head rose and dropped, and I basked in the rising joy of the moment.

But before I reached my crisis point, I begged, “Let me taste you.”

My request obviously agreed with her. Her head came up, then she shifted about. I snuggled in between her outspread legs. I kissed the silken skin of her inner thighs, and her hips bucked as her pussy begged for my mouth.

I breathed in her lush aroma before my tongue swiped along her slick groove. I delved between her lips, seeking her sweet wetness. She squirmed again, reaching down to rake her fingers through my hair.

When I probed her clit, she grabbed a fistful of my hair. I liked how that felt. She humped her pussy hard against my face, and I liked that even more. I stroked her bud with my tongue tip, and she was crying out, hitting that orgasmic crescendo.

Her juices flowed into my eager mouth and slickened my chin. She let go of my hair and fell back limply.

I bumped my head on the roof as I got up. She grinned at me and said, “You’d better fuck me now.”

I liked her straightforwardness. But I was also more than ready to plow her pussy and moved into place. My cock twitched in readiness, and our sex scents filled the air. The foggy windows were nearly opaque, vaguely silvered by the moonlight.

I set my cockhead at her wet entrance. She let out a sigh as I sank myself into her. Her cunt muscles closed, hugging my shaft as I speared her deeply.

Fragments of memory fluttered around me once more, flashes of distant erotic imagery. It had been a lucky car for me, and amazingly, it was again. Only now it was Helena’s car. That vehicle had brought us together that night.

I started stroking into her, plunging into her core every time. Her hips moved as if with oiled joints. She was a moving, flowing wonder beneath me. Our mouths met again, and she licked her own juice off my chin.

The seat springs creaked under us. The car itself even seemed to rock as I fucked her harder. Our bodies smacked together, the sounds loud in the tight space. Pleasure was climbing my body and soaring through my being.

Her body pumped against mine, and her fingers dug into my shoulders. I could still feel where she’d yanked on my hair as I ate her. She wriggled with her own swelling ecstasy. I felt her second climax building, and I was proud to be providing her with such bliss.

Slamming her, I went past my brink. My orgasm was imminent, but I somehow held it back for a few extra seconds until Helena shrieked climactically. Her pussy tightened around my cock just as I started to unload. Heavy jets of cream flew from my cock as I erupted.

Later, when we’d caught our breath, I asked, “Didn’t you have an errand to run?”

“Silly. This was my errand.” She kissed me sweetly. “What a ride.”