Wattie
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McZepallini awoke slowly from his slumber. His eyes peered out of the open window from the 5th floor of the castello di famiglia, finally focussing on the Maserati parked below in the cobbled courtyard.
She was beautiful, glistening with morning dew. What a chassis. He gazed in wonder at her perfectly formed rear, squat, no sign of rear ending. Her rear main seal perfectly intact. Slowly his eyes moved forwards, past her voluptuous rear haunches where her petrol cap blended in seamlessly. Instinctively he knew she’d need a lot of filling up.
Over and over and over again. Endless.
His eyes caressed her belt line all the way down to her pert bonnet as he longed to explore what was under it. Instinctively he knew her master slave cylinder would be fully lubricated and ready for a thrashing. Suck, squeeze, bang, blow- he knew she did it all……and noisily.
Calm down, breathe.
In a bid for control McZee diverted his gaze to her wheels. 2 of them…..wibble. Her tyres were moist and beads of dew decorated her huge polished rims. He prayed each suspension bush was well kept.
McZ’s bone line began to stir as he fantasised that there might be another 2 wheels on the other side. His dipstick had awoken and throbbed as his thrust bearing felt increasingly aroused. His nuts needed torquing and his mind raced at the thought of flange plates and greased nipples. He pulled at his dipstick and his gasket blew- the pressure finally too much for his loaded ball joints.
“McZee!! svegliati, è ora di andare all'asilo!” cried his Mamma. “siamo in ritardo, quindi ti aiuto a vestirti”
McZee was in trouble, big small trouble- but he knew that fate had crossed his path and that one day he would own a Maserati.
The End.
Note - Any similarities between the main character used in this erotic tale, and it is a tale,is purely coincidental to any person living in real life with extensive knowledge of car parts and Italian automobiles of a certain homage.
She was beautiful, glistening with morning dew. What a chassis. He gazed in wonder at her perfectly formed rear, squat, no sign of rear ending. Her rear main seal perfectly intact. Slowly his eyes moved forwards, past her voluptuous rear haunches where her petrol cap blended in seamlessly. Instinctively he knew she’d need a lot of filling up.
Over and over and over again. Endless.
His eyes caressed her belt line all the way down to her pert bonnet as he longed to explore what was under it. Instinctively he knew her master slave cylinder would be fully lubricated and ready for a thrashing. Suck, squeeze, bang, blow- he knew she did it all……and noisily.
Calm down, breathe.
In a bid for control McZee diverted his gaze to her wheels. 2 of them…..wibble. Her tyres were moist and beads of dew decorated her huge polished rims. He prayed each suspension bush was well kept.
McZ’s bone line began to stir as he fantasised that there might be another 2 wheels on the other side. His dipstick had awoken and throbbed as his thrust bearing felt increasingly aroused. His nuts needed torquing and his mind raced at the thought of flange plates and greased nipples. He pulled at his dipstick and his gasket blew- the pressure finally too much for his loaded ball joints.
“McZee!! svegliati, è ora di andare all'asilo!” cried his Mamma. “siamo in ritardo, quindi ti aiuto a vestirti”
McZee was in trouble, big small trouble- but he knew that fate had crossed his path and that one day he would own a Maserati.
The End.
Note - Any similarities between the main character used in this erotic tale, and it is a tale,is purely coincidental to any person living in real life with extensive knowledge of car parts and Italian automobiles of a certain homage.
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