1. BLITHE


    Date: 10/4/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Consensual Sex, Erotica, Male / Females, Romance, Author: Gentalman, Rating: 91.4, Source: sexstories.com

    sighed. “Do you know how to drive yet?” Ben asked. “I think I can pass the test pretty easy.” I answered, “I just don’t have anything to pass it with.” and explained, “They haven’t said so but I don’t think my parents want me using their car to test drive in.” Mr. Clayton looked at me and asked, “Saving your money?” “Yep,” I replied, “like a hoarder.” “Come on around back.” he said, standing up. “Got something you might be interested in.” and directed Ben and I out the door. “Had this for quite some time.” he said, opening a bay door. “Now Cecil,” Ben started, “I know what you’re doing.” “Come on Ben,” Mr. Clayton interrupted, “You know I can’t take it with me.” walking past the mail carts and empty boxes. “I know but…” Ben argued, sidestepping debris on the floor. Ignoring Ben, Cecil Clayton started explaining, “Look son...” stopping at a large tarp, “This here is… was my daughter’s.” and pulled on the tarp. “I lost her over a pissing match in Argentina.” A jeep appeared as the tarp fell away. “I couldn’t stop her. Too damn stubborn.” he continued, gently caressing the hood. “A bunch of gorillas decided that socialists didn’t deserve to live. Then they decided to kill off about thirty thousand of them.” “Cecil, don’t do this.” Ben urged. “Just take it easy now.” He waved him off while fighting back tears and continued, “Humanitarian aid…” and stopped himself with an emotional chuckle, “Hell, she was just another socialist to them.” and kicked the tarp off of a tire, “But ...
    she was my daughter damn it.” “Now I warned you Cecil…” Ben urged again, and snorted, “Just going to upset that ticker of yours.” placing a hand on his shoulder. Cecil Clayton was clearly in pain over his loss. It kind of makes you want to go find the cause of such pain and kill it. Heck, I was tearing up just listening to him. His daughter was a journalist on assignment, covering a war that desperately needed help. She thought if she could show people what was going on, help would come. No matter how fair war is supposed to be, replacing people’s names with the word casualty doesn’t seem so much fair to me. I made a note to look up ‘Dirty War’ when I had a chance. He’d bought the jeep for her a few weeks before she flew off; drove it up until she died. After that, he parked it; not able to drive and grieve at the same time. “The point is,” Cecil finished, “I can’t keep it and take it with me when I go.” and buffed an invisible spot off of the mirror, “It’s going to need a good home.” and opened the driver’s door. Bending down, he produced some keys from under the seat; stuck them in the ignition and turned it. “How much are you asking for it?” I asked, listening to it purr. He chuckled and said, “They tell me it’s still worth a small fortune.” and pondered a thought, “Think around ten grand.” and shooed me into the driver seat. I hesitated with that, but climbed in anyway. I might as well enjoy a few minutes with it since I couldn’t afford it. The interior was in real good ...
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