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Bonneville Beverly

by Pete Symes 6 days ago in fiction
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Bev's Flowing Ardor

Bonneville Beverly
Photo by Sally K on Unsplash

Reno had the leading man good looks. I had the character actors mojo and a huge 1966 Pontiac Bonneville. Attending a commuter college made me an asset for lifts after late night theater rehearsals. One thing you learn is that some folks are just born to be romantic leading men and leading ladies. Others are relegated to supporting roles on stage. Still others work in the wings. So it is in the world stage too.

Reno wanted to work all directions of the up to down elevator shaft of social strata. He was of the mind to cash in on quantity rather than idealized quality. Tonight two women on the stage crew got caught up in the Reno jet stream that led to my car. I was beneficiary of that jet stream tonight. Actually for the entire run of this community theater production of “Carousel”. After all Billy and Jigger had to perfect their collusion. Tonight's stream deposited Joy in the back seat with Reno while Beverly’s butt landed shotgun. The Bonneville bus pulled out of the Junior College parking lot straight for ports heretofore unexplored.

Beverly had long flowing dishwater blonde hair that fell messily over her shoulders, front and back. Front covering her startlingly pointed and jiggly jugs, each perilously tipped with constantly erect nipples. Her hair in back floated above her soft flat ass which went luxuriously from one roomy hip to the other.

Parked in the forest preserve with Beverly and I in the front seat, Reno and Joy in the back, while The Nanny was waiting impatiently at her workplace for me to pick her up after theater practice.

I don't know why I always do this.

Well. Yes I do.

I fell in love way too young.

I stayed in love way too young.

Yet I wanted to partake of the strange and varied fruits that were out in the world.

Few were stranger or unusual than Beverly.

Fewer still were as bountiful as Joy.

But Joy was in the back seat.

With Reno.

Beverly and I initially lounged in the front seat looking out into the dark winter woods. Beverly snuggled close for warmth since we would be there a while as Reno was having his evening of Joy. Beverly's long hair fell across her face and my chest and her hand slowly glided across my chest until what neither one of us set out to be slowly began to unfurled over us. The slight brush of my lips along her hairline. Her face imperceptibly turning up to meet me. The first pleasant exhale issued from her mouth on our first tentative kiss leading to the gasp of air as my tongue teased her tongue into my mouth leading to Bev’s soft suction lips fastening over mine and her pile driving her tongue down my throat in a frenzied abandon.

There was much thrashing, smacking, and gnashing going on in the deep pool of blackness behind the front seat of my Bonneville. Meanwhile I was awash in the moist resplendence and tossing throes between Beverly’s cheeks and tongue.

From the sounds and smells issuing from the back seat as well as the rocking of the auto springs it was clear that Reno was sliding into home base Joy. The final punctuation was one of Joy’s heels dancing atop the big back seat rest of the Pontiac's front bench seat.

Just like her kiss, even when on her knees Beverly was all lips, tongue, and cheeks with nary a hint of teeth.

Mushy moist meringue mouth. Glorious soft wet endless suction swallowing me up.


I leaned back and draped my arm over the long slender steering column. Lifting my ass up for Bev to work my pants down releasing into the dashboard illuminated glinting pulsing rock hard head of my cock.

As her mouth poured over me I was grasping her bra-less pendulous breast under her shirt plying them roundly with my palm forcing her erect pointy hard nipple between thumb and forefinger teasing the cone shaped aureole to great effect on Beverly’s breathing and fervor. She opened my shirt and traced her full lascivious lips past my chest and along my then taut tummy of those days.

Beverly’s face flowed over my cock with the sweet slurpy sounds of her soft sluice mouth which echoed through the empty forest preserve. This took all my attention from the festivities of Reno unwrapping Joy in the back seat. I originally had hopes of catching a visual introduction to Joy’s remarkable naked breasts in my rear-view mirror. But Beverly’s flowing ardor deserved all my attention.

Beverly's mouth was confusing. I was lost in her. As I watched my shaft disappeared into her moist lips and where I would usually hit the back of a throat or get a bit of a gag out of a girl, all I felt was the sweet soft moist continuation. I watched the back of Bev’s head closely half expecting her long hair to form a tent, yet still she swallowed up to my balls with nary a gag with nothing but the sensation of soft tongue, cheek, hard palate or teeth to distract. I was agog.

Beverly slowly pulled her head up maintaining sweet succulent suction that nearly pulled my balls through the business end of my cock. When she reached the top our eyes met. With my pole shimmering from her spittle she gave me a delicious wink full of wanton promise and pride.

Her hands slipped under my ass, taking cheeks firmly in her hands, and guided me as I bucked into her mouth with abandon.

I lost track of time as front and back seat follies unfolded until it happened.

The car dome light flashed blindingly freezing a flashbulb moment in time. Reno getting out of the car mumbling about shaking hands with the governor, Beverly’s eyes looking up at me watering, with only the tip of my dick still enveloped in her warm slushy heaven. Joy leaning over the back seat getting a full blown gander at my length and girth.

Beverly instantly knew that Joys sights had been re-calibrated just as I came with such force that Beverly's cheeks puffed out then burst forth covering the entire front seat, steering wheel, and dashboard of the 1966 Pontiac Bonneville with my prodigious twenty year old special delivery splooge.

All this while the Nanny was waiting.


About the author

Pete Symes

A scenario manifests. A scenario disassembles. I participate intensively for the duration.

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