When I was in my Junior year of High School, I came home to find a car tarped over in the drive-way. I thought it was my brother’s car. He was forever bringing home cars to fix up and re-sell. He did a great job doing it too, plus it kept him out of trouble. Him and my Dad would spend hours in the garage out back just re-building old cars. I was always amazed how they would turn out. I would actually get excited to see the finished product. My Dad and Brother would both take me out to the garage to show me the car they rebuilt, I always though they were really cool. I wanted one so badly, but in order for me to have a car, I would have to help my Dad and Brother re-build it, and, ick, grease under my nails was not going to work.
I went into the house and my Dad was sitting there with the biggest smile on his face. He stood up, gave me a hug, asked me how his Princess was, then slipped car keys into my hand. I couldn’t believe it! It wasn’t a re-build in the drive way, it was my new car! My Brother was already outside, my Dad told him to pull off the tarp and there, under neath that grey tarp was a …. piece of shit beat up car.
I almost cried. My Dad turned me around and explained to me what it was, and that when we were finished with it, everyone would be jealous. Those were the magic words, ‘everyone would be jealous’. How could I turn that down. Over the next year we spent every free moment out in the garage. I learned how to do some body work, how to put an engine in, how to put tires on, how to install seats. When we were done, I had myself a sparkly mack 1. That’s right, that pretty red car in the pic was my very first car.
The black one is my Dad’s, it’s a fastback Mustang. I’m not sure how much my Dad will like me putting a pic of his car on a blog like this, but he would like how much I enjoyed working on that car, and driving it around during the summers, and the fact that I told you all about it. Now I do not know much about how it was done, as I was just directed to do this or do that, I do love cars because of that time I spent with my Dad and my Brother. It also taught me one very important thing, yes I might be pretty, and yes I might be a great fuck in bed, but men like to get into other things besides a pink, soft, pussy. I guess sex really isn’t everything, after all there are muscle cars, which are just as good for me at least.
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