How do you get these ideas? European convention holds that the seat of the emotions is the heart, while the Romans, with rather more justification, believed it was the stomach. In my case I think a slightly lower part of the anatomy is responsible.
This particular idea arrived one afternoon when I was sitting in the sun feeling a bit randy, like you do, and looking at my car in the drive. Five-door estate with two good stout wing mirrors, firm anchors for rear fender, central bracket for towing. Could you tie someone over that nice flat roof face up with their ankles fixed to the mirrors? And, came a surge of inspiration from between the legs, you could drive around like that!
That evening I clambered onto the car to try it out for size and comfort. Yes, the vehicle could have been designed specifically for the purpose, although pointing my legs at the wing mirrors was quite a stretch.
Once the idea had arrived, I spent some time mulling it over to check out the potential problems. I drove around a bit at night looking at oncoming cars, trying to guage how much I could see of the vehicle behind the headlights, and decided a naked man on the roof would be virtually invisible. It would be a quite different matter if a car came close up behind, of course.
The other problem is that you need someone else to do the driving, so I rang a middle-aged gay friend who I call on occasionally. He’d been into a quite serious S&M crowd in earlier days, and I’d sit around with a glass of wine listening to stories of his former exploits. (“The libido, alas, is not what it was, dear boy”.) Like the time he and another man were buried up to their necks in a quiet corner of a public park, naked and handcuffed together for half the night, or the day he was auctioned as a slave for a week at a gay fundraising event. Once he showed me a photograph of himself taken for a Christmas card, lithe and sexy and wearing only a Santa hat and a half-mask to which his wrists were cuffed, towing a sledge loaded with colourful presents through the snow. The sledge was tied to his balls. For the purposes of this narrative I’ll call him Chum. He usually dressed up in his leather chaps, to show off his extra-heavy nipple rings and tattooed balls, and I would strip right down. He’s a great admirer of my dick, is Chum.
Dick admiration comes as rather a new experience for me. At school I was always somewhat embarrassed about how my member seemed unhealthily swollen compared to the other kids’ neat equipment and I put it down to all the secret masturbating I was doing. None of my female partners since then ever made much overt comment about the size of the thing so I just assumed that all grown men had dicks rising to over eight inches. Perhaps the girls thought that too, come to think of it, since most of them were relatively inexperienced. Now I suddenly found I was possessed of a rare and outstanding piece of equipment.
But to return to the story. I rang Chum, explained the nude car-drive idea and enlisted his help with the ropes and the driving. By now he’s pretty used to my penchant for risky exposure in public and is happy to play along if the role is not too arduous. His cottage is deep in the hilly farm country of the West of England and one of our games is for him to drive me over to the far hillside, leave me there wearing nothing but shoes and with my wrists tied to my balls behind my back, and then drive home to watch my furtive return, through binoculars. The field gates are the worst part.
So Chum got out his large-scale maps and we chose a suitably rural place for the drive. The plan was to start on a little-used lane, turn onto a main road for three or four miles, then pull off into another lane for disembarking. We sorted through his rope collection and practised tying me onto my car roof. We checked stories in case we were stopped by the Law (“Bridegroom’s Stag Party”). We ran around a bit in my car to get him used to driving it. We agreed an ‘Abort’ code of thumps on the roof in case of emergency.
After that we couldn’t think of any other preparations so Chum knocked up a light supper and we passed the time until nightfall.
By about 9.00 pm it was getting fairly dark, with no moon. We bundled everything into the car and set off, with Chum driving. We were both pretty nervous by this time, looking carefully at the cars we passed on the way to reassure ourselves that you couldn't see much beyond the dazzle. We arrived at the ‘start’ lane and he pulled to the side in a small copse.
This is it! I jumped out, stripped off and climbed onto the car roof.
AAAARGH!
The metal was freezing cold!
Sexy ideas usually miss out on something! It had been quite different up there in the afternoon sun!
But I wasn’t going to chicken out now. I put on a t-shirt and leather jacket, clambered back and was duly tied in position.
We started off slowly on the narrow country lane, then turned onto the main road and speeded up. I felt very secure but bloody cold. The wind powering off the windscreen nearly turned my balls inside out! I could feel my dick whipping this way and that but I couldn't see much as the jacket had ballooned full of ice-cold air.
There was a glow of headlights up ahead.
A car came rapidly, inexorably towards us. Helpless, I saw my legs lighting up brighter and brighter. Chum kicked the accelerator and we shot past into darkness again. There was no sign that the other car had noticed anything untoward, but it was an anxious moment for both of us.
Remorselessly we ploughed on into the night, with me pulling tightly on the wrist ropes, surviving the ordeal, every arm, leg and stomach muscle tense. Four or five other cars passed before we came to the planned turn-off, and fortunately none came up behind us. All too soon the adventure was over.
When finally untied I was shaking with excitement and cold in about equal measure, and Chum felt moved to warm my dick up orally. Then we started making plans about driving through built-up areas with street lighting! It was mostly fantasy, though, we fortunately never got around to trying it.
Take my tip. If you fancy driving around stark naked and bollocks to the breeze with your legs wide apart at 40 mph in the middle of the night, WRAP UP WARM!
*********************************************************************
This is, of course, an actual event. Try it yourself if you can
find suitable roads. And one-way traffic! Nickerlas
Nickerlas has asked to keep his Email address off the web, but if you
would like to contact him about this or his other anecdotes write to Gromet
and I will pass your message on.