Classic Passion
Copyright© 2025 by RedRambler
Prologue
Coming of Age Story: Prologue - Teenage guys predominately have two things on their minds Cars and Girls. Not necessarily in that order. I found the perfect car 'for me' and wound up finding the perfection in the women that would dominate my life.
Caution: This Coming of Age Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Teenagers Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual MaleDom Harem
I love cars, especially the muscle cars of the 60’s and early 70’s. What red blooded American teenage male didn’t? Well, maybe except me. While my friends were in an incestuous relationship with horsepower, bucket seats, manual transmissions, and stick shifts, I judged them to be a barrier between me, and every teenage boy’s second obsession, girls. A hot Corvette, Thunder Bird, or Mustang might attract a prospective date, but it’s a roadblock in almost every other way. How can your girl get close, with a stick shift or worse, a center console in the way, and unless you’re in the country, how can you put your arm around her if you are constantly shifting gears. I won’t even get into the discomfort of the back seats of those cars.
My solution, a 1961 Rambler Classic 770; boxy, underpowered, and with an automatic transmission. But it had a secret weapon, I’ll get to that in a second. My friends called it a granny car, which in truth it was. My grandparents grudgingly gave it to me the day I got my driver’s license, a few months after I turned fifteen. I couldn’t have asked for a better present.
Ramblers, along with Studebaker, and Hudson designed a line of cars for traveling salesmen. In the 40’s & 50’s, motels were not as plentiful as today, with the exception of Howard Johnson’s, there weren’t any big chain hotels and motels. Salesmen’s cars had to have large trunks for samples and seats that would be fairly comfortable to spend the night in. the 611’ Rambler was a departure from this design except for one feature, fully reclining front seats. They reclined all the way back to make a relatively comfortable bed. A secondary advantage was more leg room in the rear seat for passengers. The seats were my secret weapon.
I was raised by my grandparents; I never even knew my mother’s name until I registered for social security at 65. My father popped in and out of the scene for a week or month at a time, then disappeared into the void. This would give my grandmother a couple months ammunition to wake me up at two in the morning, to rant for hours about what a loser I would be for the rest of my life. Needless to say, I was shocked when my grandfather handed me the keys.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.