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Kinktober

Going for a Ride

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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The lion grinned and stretched out his arms over his head, working out the kinks from his body. His home stood before him, a detached property with a modern flare to it, though it still easily fit into the surrounding countryside and more rural scene. He had spent more than enough time in the city that he was glad to be able to spend more time on remote work, making the most of his life and earnings.

That was exactly why he had bought the Mustang, the GT500 Shelby. In a silvery-grey, it was sleek and stylish, the smooth lines of the vehicle drawing the eye. He smiled more widely still, fondly taking it in, admiring it in the soft, afternoon light. The autumn did not always hold the brightest time of year, but that did not make it so that the lion could not enjoy the fruits of his labours, sliding into the driver's seat, smart jeans tugging lightly around his hips and thighs.

The leather of the seats cupped him lightly, as if they had been made and designed specifically for him. Inside it was fresh and clean, a hint of leather conditioner in the air, plus the cleanser that he had used to keep the dashboard in top condition. It was not the sort of car, not the Mustang, that he would ever have eaten in, so as not to sully its surfaces.

Besides, the car was so much more to him than that. The engine rumbled as he turned the key to fire the engine, putting it in gear and smoothly pulling out of his driveway. The open road beckoned and, heading up into the mountains, he was sure to not encounter anyone else, or at least very few, leaving the roads for himself.

There was nothing quite like sitting in the driver's seat, getting to drive the Mustang more and more frequently as he worked on his work-life balance. It was all about enjoying life, after all, and something churned and pushed in his gut as he sank deeper into the seat still with a low, throaty purr.

The mountain roads twisted and turned with long, smooth curves, letting him get up to speed, the countryside flying by. The lion's attention was on the road, but the green of the countryside, the rich, fertile landscape, framed his drive perfectly, all in a way that nothing else, not even once, ever could.

The world that he had chosen to live in a corner of was his and his alone, all in his perception of it. Still, he could not stop himself from shifting back and forth longingly in the seat, the hardness of his cock rising into a bulge that showed through the front of his jeans. Ah, but it was only the GT500 Shelby that bore witness to his arousal, though the lion would not have considered it as lust.

It was something deeper than that, something that set a deep ache in the core of his being, rising and throbbing through. His skin burned and his tail lashed restlessly, stroking back and forth across the leather seats, curling around, as if it was trying to reach something that even the feline could not be quite sure about. The lion's teeth gleamed with saliva, though he would have considered it to be anticipation, the Mustang rumbling along gently under him.

He did not unduly rev it, not that time. There was a spot, high up on the mountain road, though the altitude was not as great as it could have been in other countries, where he could pull off, under a cliff face. It would allow him to look out down the valley as the grey afternoon light brightened, the clouds clearing, though the lion had other, more sultry things in mind to do while he took in the view...

He rumbled a soft growl as he pulled off the road. Someone passing would have seen the Mustang there, but it would have taken someone pulling up right alongside him to work out just what was going on there. Not that the lion, of course, had any intention of getting caught.

"Yessss..."

His purr turned to a hiss as he palmed the bulge in his jeans, stimulating himself, though he was quite sure that he was going to go all the way with it. His whiskers twitched and quivered, though the lion took his time working himself up, eyes roaming the lines of his car, the interior, the valley beyond that spilt down before him in a sheen of golden light. It was needed, what he was there to do, enjoying his car in the best of ways, but he would ensure that the interior was spotless when he finished.

He groaned, sliding his jeans down, all the way to his knees. He would not have to part his legs all that much for what he was there to do, though his arousal was not to be set aside either. His cock stood up, hard and proud, the last bit fleshing out and thickening with blood, throbbing lightly. With a soft groan, he half-closed his eyes, rubbing it gently with the flat of his palm, stroking up and down, enjoying the experience.

"Mmmm..."

Out there, all alone, there was no one to see, allowing him his privacy, something that was of great importance to the lion. He grunted and growled, offering his body everything that it ached for, everything that it craved, a bubble of pre-cum marking the head of his cock. It was only a smear, but he thumbed it lightly, easing his fingers over the sensitive tip, though it was the feel of his car surrounding him, arousing him, that took up his attention.

His underwear had come down with his jeans, leaving his backside bare, though he was not cold at all, not with his coat of fur. His tawny fur gleamed golden in the afternoon sunshine, tail swishing back and forth, and he moved over the gear stick with practised ease. It was, after all, something that he had done several times before, though didn't always have quite the boldness in him to try again.

He used only the faintest amount of water-based lube, something that would not stain and would not damage the car, of course. Yet the gear stick, despite the sleek, ergonomic design, was still something tricky to take up inside his tail hole without a little bit of help, which the lion was more than happy to allow himself. Still, he couldn't bring himself to smear the lube onto the gear stick itself, but fingered his ring lightly, sliding a finger inside and lubricating the edge. It just felt better that way, his head tipping back with a low moan, sinking back and down, so that the gear stick, very lightly, stretched his tail hole.

It was just the edge, just the tip, but it was the start of more, riding the gear stick as his hips rocked and he groaned lightly, relishing in the sensation. It poured through him, infiltrating his senses, desire rocking him, though he had to have more.

Always more.

That was why he always kept coming back to it.

The gear stick slid into him, mostly smoothly. To be fair, the lion was more than a little impatient as he sank onto it, rocking his hips back and forth, easing it in, working it deeper. Yet he had to brace himself on the seat, careful not to dig his claws in, to raise himself back up again, one foot in the passenger footwell and the other in the driver's side footwell.

"Unnff..."

He didn't have to worry about the sounds he made, or if he made any special sounds at all. For the moment was all his, relishing in pleasure, the delicious thrum of ecstasy trembling through him, as if it was calling him to a greater release.

He grunted thickly in the back of his throat, rocking back and forth, though he was not quite able to hump and grind back down on the gear stick as he wanted to. There were concessions to be made when he was stuck in such a situation, but it was all worth it for the pleasure that was there to be gleaned.

He moaned, relishing in sensation, his leonine tail swishing back and forth, the tip tickling the seats. And yet his shivers could not take in anything else other than how good the gear stick felt up his backside, how tight his tail hole was around it, closing and clenching as if he was trying to suck it even deeper inside him.

He longed for it, grunting deeply, though the throbbing ache of his hard-on was not something that he could ignore either. His paw came up, briefly, to hold it, though he could barely take in the rest of the car, trembling in passion right there on top of the gear stick, grinding and rocking on it. The lion did not know just how many inches of the gear stick was rammed into him, the head of it thicker and bulging larger. It was a good size to get his paw around, of course, but it was not the best shape to grind up into his tail hole, even if he would have taken any manner of light discomfort to get what he needed.

His cock throbbed and drooled and the lion knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back for long. Thick strings of pre-cum dripped from his cock, over productive in the height of his lust - even though he would not have very often been creaming that much before even cumming. Maybe it was something about the car, the Mustang, the sleek power of it that had him groaning and losing control like a teenager all over again.

But that did not matter, not as he sank into the most private of moments, relishing in it, the tight filling of his backside, how his tail flicked back and forth, though always stayed high enough to not interfere with the gear stick intruding deviously in his arse. He pressed down all the way on it, staying there for several long moments, cock throbbing - yet had to thrust and grind back down on it a few moments later, letting his lust lead him to the high that he so craved.

It could not be held back, not as his cock jerked and twitched, pulsing with blood. He let loose, not caring if he was caught out there, though there was a big part of him that lamented the clean-up that would have to be done on the car afterwards.

His cum drooled and splattered as orgasm hit him, covering the front of the dashboard and dripping down around the footwell and centre console. He couldn't stop himself from pushing through it, rocking his hips and resisting the urge to thrust, for he didn't want to move up and off the gear stick just yet.

It felt too good for the feline to move, grunting thickly, licking his black lips, head swimming with delirious lust. Orgasm was swift and furtive for a male, yet the lingering glow of it warmed him through, as if he was taking his time, as if he had spent hours upon hours on foreplay beforehand. Maybe the drive itself, for him, had counted as a kind of foreplay?

He chuckled faintly to himself, relaxing, though he reached for the wipes in the glove compartment, as tucked away as it was, thinking of tidying up before heading back. He didn't want any marks to be made from his seed, after all, lovingly taking care of the Mustang as he always did.

After all, for all that the car did for him, he wanted to make sure that he took care of it in kind, doing all for it that he possibly could. His cock softened and drooped lightly, yet he languished there still, unwilling to move and pop the gear stick entirely from his softly sore backside.

Moments like that, in going for a ride, were supposed to be cherished, after all...