I’m splitting it up, so everyone gets to tell their side of the story, but it’s about time the Eponymous character told her’s.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to talk about my car. My baby, and my wife, but honestly? That’s what she is. If we could get married, I’m definitely her bitch.
Okay, just the FAQs? It came down to that or a VW Scirocco. VR6, it’s a study in cramming as much horsepower as you can under the lowest possible hood. With a supercharger, but I knew that I’d be kicking myself, and saying “I could’ve had a V8!”
I should have gotten the VW, I can almost afford parts for that, but I had just enough money for a 928. The last car Ferdinand Porsche worked on himself, and the 2 best things that came out of Nazi Germany are the Kraft durch FreudeWagen, and the Porsche company.
The Beetle looks a little fat, and while I’m not supposed to be one of those girls, that cares about what it looks like. Getting out of a car that looks pregnant, what I really am is the kind of girl that really fucking hates being told what I can, and can’t do. Besides, the engine’s in the wrong place.
The 928 is a V8 up front, where it belongs. The drive wheels in back, where they belong, and there’s an understated elegance to the curves, that aren’t too much. It’s not blocky like a Mustang (But it would have been cheaper to get a Pony) and it doesn’t have all the extra curves they put on say a Corvette. Or a 911, which still has the engine in the wrong place.
So, take a Corvette, and have Ferdinand Porche completely redesign everything. Including the extra curves so it has tits, just to save weight on sheet metal. I could have settled with the Scirocco, but I would have regretted it more, and honestly it’s a labor of love. I don’t have to fix her to keep get her running again. It’s a privilege, the love of my life, my wife, my 928.
So, up next is the label:
Lesbian.
I don’t know, I honestly like “Diesel Dyke” a little better, because it’s cute? I know, I’m supposed to be all butch and everything (And technically it’s not a Diesel either) I got a good laugh out of that when I heard it, and it just fits?
The best advice I got from my mom was “Just be yourself.” Don’t try to be yourself, but if they don’t like you for who you are, then 1: It’s their loss, 2: You probably don’t want to know anyone that judgemental, and 3: It sucks living a lie.
I came out to her, when I was 9. Okay, I asked her, “I want to be a lesbian,” to see if that would be okay, and she said sure, hugged me, and whatever makes you happy… Bla bla bla, but in 4th grade, you start to notice things, about the other girls. At least the ones that got started early, and the older ones in 5th, and 6th grade.
The boys noticed too, and the girls started to talk about boys. How you get their attention, and. “Huh? I’m sorry, what were you saying? You got a little something in your training bra, and it’s just distracting…”
Oh yeah, and I’m named after Parker Posey, because my dad refused to let mom name me Darla Marks Ortiz. So, it’s Parker Posey Ortiz. Moving on…
Before that, my Abuelo’s yard was like a playground, and I just liked to climb around the cars. Mostly Saab 900s, because after they went out of style, well. Let’s just say that Ranchos was full of old Saabs, and he got them all cheap for parts. Managed to put together an SPG for a daily driver, and fully restored a 96 because he could. He loved that car, and when he died, he left it to me. In such a way that’s so incredibly him, it would take years to explain it.
The cliffnotes version was his Will instructed them to take it down to the Manheim Auction (In the box trailer, he bought for it) and give the money they got for it to me “To spend on whatever she wants.”
I should’ve gone to college, dad offered to invest it for my future, and I really would have been better off with the Scirocco VR6, but $20,000.00 of that never left the building.
“It’s what he would have wanted.”
They knew it, and I knew it. He knew I fucking hated that car, and Saabs in general, because they just don’t make any sense! Who the hell puts a V4 in a car? Any car?
The same company that drops a straight 4 diesel engine on a transaxel, converts it to gasoline, and chains the flywheel to the drive shaft. He wanted 911s, but he settled for Saab 900s, because of that quirkiness. Because they put the engine in the back, and instead of changing it, they just tweaked it, for half a century until it worked, and basically got the quintessential sports car.
The 928 was a clean sheet of paper, taking all that Uncle Ferdinand learned from doing it wrong for sei Germans, and doing it right. From the start. Abuelo was all about forcing the square peg into a round hole with a hydraulic press. So, he loved the 911 for doing it wrong until it came out right.
I got my baby, because it’s the perfect car for me. Honestly, if I had my way, it would be the perfect sportscar for everyone. I’d make every manufacturer on Earth shut down, and re-tool to make 928s, and whatever else they make for picking up the kids, or a stack of plywood. For other jobs, a minivan does most of that pretty well, but for The Sports Car.
We’re done. Maybe keep tweaking it for another 40 years or so, but no. THEY STOPPED MAKING IT, and kept making 911s instead.
I know, I’m sorry/not sorry. I’m supposed to come here, and talk about sex, but I wound up talking about cars instead. Well, that ain’t me.
^That is. Now, that I got it out of the way, I can talk about sex.
;
Derry (fmm Crush)
“Huh!” I love him. I had little brothers, so I can’t call him the one I never had, but. I’m glad I didn’t? He’s adorable, and the way he followed Rod around by the tail only made it even more adorable, but then Rod dropped out.
Broke his heart. Yeah, I thought he was gay too, hell even he thought he was gay, because he was in love with a boy, and I just can’t see it. Okay? I’m not a man hater, but Rodney’s just not my type. Mustangs aren’t my type, Golf GTIs aren’t. Well, you get the idea.
Derry’s my type. I know, there’s the little part about him having a dick, and balls, but he never let them go to his head, and honestly I lived as a lesbian for so long, he was safe? He was in love with someone else, and I spent so long looking for a girl like him.
He doesn’t giggle. He doesn’t roll his eyes when I change the subject (Guess) or scoff, or “What ever!” I’m homosexual, because girls are sexier. Look at them, maybe with a few notable exceptions, even I can look at Liam Neeson, and while I wouldn’t fuck him?
I don’t know, you’d probably fuck him just for the bragging rights, but then I look at Famke Janssen, and ooh yeah. Pour me in a kiddie pool with her, and a cement mixer full of butterscotch pudding, and. What were we talking about?
Oh yeah, Taken. I look at Maggie Grace, and I see a teenage girl getting dragged kicking and screaming out from under the bed. I don’t want a husband, I don’t even need a wife now, I bought one, but that famous scene where he’s talking on the phone? Telling the kidnappers that he will find them, and he will kill them?
Yeah, I can see that. The intensity, and even loving a man like that, because if anyone laid a hand on my baby? What am I gonna do, probably fly off the chain, and get myself killed, because somebody scratched my car!
Yeah, maybe if we still lived in Rio Racho, maybe I’d meet some guy that works on cars, and maybe he’d know a guy, that could kill someone, and get rid of the body. Up here, it’s just not like that. You have to drive, a while to get to the seedy Breaking Bad crush you up in a car cube side of the car industry. We kinda moved up here to get away from that. Because ranchos got overrun by ese’s, so I’d probably come out to find my car stolen, and wrapped around a telephone pole.
Huh, then I saw Derry, and wished I could find a girl, to look at me, the way he looked at Rodney. And then, slowly, I stopped worrying about the girl part, and then I started dreaming about Derry, looking at me that way.
Then Rodney broke his heart. Okay, Suze called me, and bragged, because she nailed him, “And would you believe that he’s never been fucked in that fuckable ass before?”
She posted the picture on his wall, on his phone, and added the caption. [Just settling in. ;)]
“Ugh!” I actually, rolled my fucking eyes. “How did you get my number?”
“Uh, it’s on his phone, duh!”
“Look, he’s my friend,”
“Well, he’s my boyfriend,”
“And if you think you can get away with gloating, then you’ve got another thing coming.”
“What are you going to do?”
“No. The question is, what is He going to do, when he finds out that you outed him, and.”
Click. “UGH!” I practically crushed my phone in my hand, or at least it’s a good thing that they fixed them, so the screens don’t shatter as easily as before, because if they hadn’t, I would have crushed it to spiderwebs, because I couldn’t wring her scrawny little neck, because she called me to gloat, knowing if she showed up face to face, I’d fucking KILL HER.
“Huh, huh. Huh!”
All right, she’s just trying to hurt you, that little fucking troll wants you angry, because she knew how’ you’d react, and. Well,
;
Suzy (g2F, Nemesis)
To think, I actually looked up to her, in like 2nd grade. She was in 4th grade, so she looked so tall, pretty, popular, she had so many friends, and here I was.
The little weirdo. Not even a Tomboy yet, I didn’t have any friends, I didn’t have an identity, I was just kinda standing there, trying to figure out, well. Anything really.
I started losing my teeth, and feeling self conscious about it. My hippy mom never tooth fairied me. She was like, “Oh, that’s not bad, look at this.” Then, she pulled her cheek out to show me her crack tooth.
My mom’s not a crack head, okay? She was a party girl, and she partied in the 90s, when you could get crack, at parties. She was smart enough to smoke it out of the side of her mouth, then not grin too wide so you could see her crack tooth, but she went through Meth addiction after that.
You ever seen Breaking Bad? Yeah, she grew up surrounded by that. Then she got cleaned up, she’s been in and out of rehab, she drinks like a gallon (2×2 Liters, so just over a gallon) of Mountain Dew a day so she doesn’t get the shakes, but she’s not a crackhead. Crackheads actually care what they get their buzz from, she used to be a speed freak, and now she’s just maintaining until she blows a valve in her heart.
Suze is an Attention Whore. She got her first fix when she started breaking out in breast bumps, and went through phases. Her first fashion statement was “Look everyone, boobies!” I didn’t go to middle school with her, thank God, but I heard.
“I’m bisexual!” We know. “Did I mention I’m bisexual? Because I am. I like boys, and girls!” WE KNOW!
That girl. Okay, don’t get me started on Cars, I could relate. Now, I’m not one to slut shame, everybody knows that I slept around more than enough to compete, but only because she.
Well, she. Molested me, in 4th grade. She was a 6th grader, and I made a mistake. I’m sorry, to this very day, but I kissed a girl, and she didn’t like it. Also in 4th grade, the one that started to show the most in the hips.
I’m not a tits girl. I mean, they’re okay, I don’t hate them, but I’m not as tits obsessed as most boys, and some girls. I have my own to play with now, so another pair are kinda redundant, and on backwards. So if I play with them, face to face, we can kiss, and look each other in the eyes, then I can’t play with them the way I like to, because they’re in front of me.
Most girls like to get their tits played with but whatever. It’s not really important, but I like hips. If you put a naked lady in front of me, my eyes are going to check out her hips first, and my biggest complaint about dudes is they don’t have any. Nothing against guys, they just have that guy shape. A flat wedge on top, pounded into a pelvis without enough hips on it.
Then quickly move down to what’s between her hips, and her legs. I like pussy too, I’m not that much of a weirdo, but this girl invited me over, and changed out of her school clothes. She had a training bra on, and nothing in it you could see, but she had this tiny waist, the cutest little belly button, and hips you couldn’t see until she took her top off.
So, I kissed her, and touched her. I have to face the fact that I kissed her just as a distraction, so she couldn’t stop me from touching her hips, and her tummy. I fucked up, and I’m not making any excuses for it, but Suzy took that as a chance for disproportionate retribution.
She heard about it, that “She tried to kiss me, and I think she’s a.” Hushed whisper, ‘Les B An.’
Being the resident token bisexual, Suzy’s who she ran to. So, Suzy came right up to me, and she “Heard you’re gay, or bisexual?”
“I don’t know.” Honestly, I didn’t really have any sexual urges before, so that’s why I wasn’t able to resist that one.
“Well, you’re kinda cute, I guess.” So, she took my virginity, and broke my heart. The next couple years she was in middle school, and I wasn’t sure whether to feel worse about her hurting me physically, or emotionally, but I don’t even think that it was out of Revenge. Per se.
She heard about a lesbian, in 4th grade, so she decided to satisfy her curiosity, and then she said “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I nodded, biting back tears, but it was. It fucking hurt! She kept her virginity intact, because I wasn’t about to break it, but she sat on my face, and made me lick it. I just wanted to go take care of the bleeding, but she wouldn’t let me go until she was satisfied. She was really clean, and more than a little soapy, which left a bad taste in my mouth, and I stole my first cigarette from dad’s pack when I got home.
Partially to get the soapy taste out of my mouth, and the overpowering fragrance, because she used girly soap. Which smells like cramming plastic flowers up your nose until you can’t breathe. Mostly, I guess that I heard that you’re supposed to smoke after sex, and I just lost my virginity.
Just found out that I’m a lesbian, and tried to force these feelings for her, into this round heart shaped hole, but I never loved her. I looked up to her, I thought she was cool, and I envied her hips as much as the rest of her body. She shaved her pubes all ready, I could tell, because she had razor rash.
At 11. The kind of girl that has razor rash at 11, but I just thought it was acne, because I hadn’t heard of HPV, or Herpes, and I wouldn’t know what those looked like if I had, either. I’d like to think that if I did, I. Probably would have resisted, tried to fight back, and I don’t know whether she would have raped me, or not, but I’m kinda glad that I never found out.
Then, I got to high school, and we had this kinda rivalry going, where we tried to get the most girls. She kinda cheated by seducing guys, and girls, she had a 2 year head start, she was a Junior so had access to Seniors, and everybody knew she was bisexual, so she didn’t have to remind, anyone.
Word got around, she put out. She wouldn’t take just anyone, she had pretty high standards, and she usually managed to get something for it, but I don’t think she ever really had sex, just to please, anyone.
She’s selfish, demanding, manipulative, and if she hates you enough, she has more than enough sexuality to weaponize it against you. As a freshman, I wasn’t even a threat. If she remembered me, she didn’t admit it out loud, and then my favorite grandfather died, and that made everything even more confusing, but then I got a car.
The car, love of my life, my wife, and all that, but really I got her for me. Not her, I sure as hell didn’t want any more of her attention, after I’d gotten it, then she denied it just to laugh at me with her friends when I even looked over at her table.
“Oh, look. The little lesbo’s got the hots for you now?” A different girl friend to put on the spot, every time. She used me, pining for her the rest of the year to put her friends on the spot, but made it very clear that she didn’t give a fuck about me. It was a 1 night stand, hit, and quit it. She went on with her life, until I got the best car in school.
At that point, at least some part of me played “Dr. Parker” so that nobody would hurt those girls, the way she hurt me. The way a lot of boys at school hurt a lot of girls, fumbling with virginity, with nothing but an instruction manual on how to force a square peg through a round hole, in Latin.
So, that’s when Rod came out to me, as bisexual, Derry came along, and between the 2 of us, we blew her fucking doors off.
;
Author
Sorry folks, but she’s just not the kind of girl that’s even capable of writing an erotic story for you.
Unless you’re so sadistic that you can’t control yourself well enough to hide it. Basically, Suzy is just self conscious enough to hide it, even from herself.
So, Rodney can’t see it either.
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