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I couldn’t Unfasten Her Safety Belt

26.03.2017
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I couldn’t unfasten her safety belt. Have you ever heard those lyrics? They’re part of a song that Chuck Berry put out in the sixties.

Basically, the song gives the story of a young lad who took his girlfriend for a drive. He tells of how, when they parked and wanted to go for a walk so he could pitch a little wooing, they couldn’t undo her seat belt. She was stuck in the car and he had to home, wooing being deferred to another day.

I was that young lad, and I told Chuck the story. Yes, I know that that shows my age, but what the hell. We all grow old. It’s better than the alternative.

Mind you, the story the way Chuck told it had little regard for the truth of what happened, which is probably why I didn’t get a brass nickel in the way of royalties. I thought I’d finally set the record straight and explain what really happened that night.

Debbie was my girlfriend. She was eighteen, and very lovely. Virginal and modest, and what was considered to be, for those times, a good girl. If you can’t remember back that far, let me enlighten you as to what a good girl was. She didn’t put out. Not for no-one. Waiting for marriage was what she was doing, and frustrating her boyfriends no end.

It was my opinion that Debbie would have made a terrific baseball player. Every time I pitched her a little woo, she belted it out of the park. Apart from that one failing she was a great girl. Fun to be with, a great dancer, easy to please and, important to every young man, not expensive.

Like all young men, when spring came my thoughts turned to romance. Actually that’s not quite right. When spring comes, a young maiden’s thoughts turn to romance. Being of the male gender, in spring my thoughts turned to sex, the same as they do in winter, summer and autumn.

The time had come, however, when I had decided to do something about it. I figured that Debbie would probably succumb to my wooing and my manly charms if I just went about it the right way. And part of the right way was making sure my car operated just the way I wanted it to.

I managed to persuade Debbie to come for a drive one Saturday evening. We went cruising along near the beach, just relaxing and enjoying the music on the radio, the nice weather, and the fact that we were young and carefree.

Eventually I pulled up in a car park alongside one of the beaches and suggested that we go take a romantic walk on the sand. Debbie, ever conscious of the fact that she was a good girl, looked around, saw that there were other cars parked there and that there were other couples walking on the beach, and agreed to take a stroll.

Now back then, not many cars had safety belts, but mine did. They weren’t friction fed, lap-sash belts like you get now, though. They were simple lap belts. You just buckled up and pulled tight. Yank the lever when you want it to open.

I pulled the lever on mine and it broke apart as designed. Debbie pulled the lever on hers and nothing happened. It was still fastened, and fastened quite firmly as a matter of fact. She had this habit of pulling the belt a bit tight. She says it’s because the car tends to sway somewhat when I drive, but hey, cars are meant to be driven fast.

Debbie was a bit put out when the belt wouldn’t unfasten. She yanked and pulled and fiddled, but nothing. So I yanked and pulled and fiddled and managed to feel a number of curves while doing so, but nothing. That belt wasn’t budging.

“Sorry, Deb,” I said, “but it looks as though you’re stuck. Why don’t you work on it while I sort of drift towards home. If we have to, I’ll get a spanner when we get home and take the whole thing off.”

So I hit the road again, and meandered on, Debbie not really watching where I was going as she was trying to get the belt loose. Eventually I spotted a nice lonely car park on an isolated beach and pulled in to it.

Looking at the belt I made a suggestion.

“Still no luck, uh? I’ve had an idea. If you pull that lever beneath the seat it slides the seat back a bit, that may loosen it.”

Debbie reached down and found the lever and pulled and the seat slid back a little way, but no joy with the belt. I still had more in mind fortunately.

“Hmm. That didn’t work. Try the lever on the side. It tilts the back of the seat. Maybe the seat is pinching it.”

Again, Debbie reaches down and yanks the little lever and this time the back of the seat just flopped straight back, yanking Debbie back with it so she was lying flat on her back, seatbelt still holding her prisoner very firmly.

Might I point out at this stage that those old cars had bench seats in front. When Debbie pulled those two levers she turned the entire front seat into a flat surface that just naturally met up with the rear seat.

“Geez, sorry, Deb,” I apologise. “Hold on until I come around and help you.”

I hopped out and zipped around to the passenger side and opened the rear door. I grinned down at Debbie who was glaring up at me and muttering about idiots and their idiotic ideas.

She was even less pleased when I suddenly whipped this crepe bandage around her wrists and tethered them to the grab rail above the door. Then I slammed the door and zipped back to the driver’s side and piled in.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” yelled Debbie.

“Deb!” I exclaimed. “You should say things like that. It’s not at all the thing.”

That seemed to make Deb even madder, partly because she knew she wasn’t supposed to swear.

“Michael, will you please tell me what you are doing? I want you to come and untie my wrists immediately.”

Without bothering to answer her I lifted her skirt and petticoats and tucked them tucked them tidily around her waist. Underneath she had her bloomers, suspenders and stockings. Debbie started bouncing her bottom up and down and yelling at me, squealing in fury as I took her bloomers and pulled them down.

No such thing as little bikini panties those days. Undies were serious business. On the other hand, once the girl’s pants were removed you would generally find her pussy was nicely framed by her suspenders and stockings. It’s really quite erotic. You should try to persuade your girlfriend to wear them sometimes.

I ran my hand through Debbie’s muff, squeezing slightly. The way she squalled and squealed you’d think she’d never had a man grope her before. (Actually, now that I think of it, she probably hadn’t. One of the problems with being a good girl.)

I continued to play with her while she squirmed and squealed. All I was doing at this stage was tugging lightly at her pubes and massaging and palpitating her mons. I hadn’t even tried to ease her legs apart, or to go exploring her labia, or dip into her slit. Still she was rather upset.

I’d like to mention at this stage that while Debbie was a good girl and a virgin, I was nothing of the sort. Some of my other girlfriends had not been good girls, but were still good enough to teach me some interesting things. Some of these I hoped to pass on to Debbie, not that I intended going too far, of course. After all, she was a virgin.

Giving one last tug on those short curly hairs I transferred my attention elsewhere. Half a dozen buttons later, Deb’s jacket was undone and I was working on her blouse. Some more buttons fell by the wayside and with a little help her blouse went to either side of her lovely chest, bringing her bra into play.

Bras are tricky. They’re tricky now and they were tricky then. I was tempted to just push it up and off her breasts, but the damn thing was so big and solid I was afraid of doing her an injury. Fortunately, she was doing a bit of bouncing up and down, and timing it I managed to slip my hand under her blouse and behind her back.

I almost had my fingers broken when she dropped down on them, but I was able to get some working room and unhook her coat of armour. That accomplished I took hold of the cups and started lifting slowly, watching Debbie’s face as she started to blush as the bra lifted away from her breasts.

Women are funny creatures. I mean, I’d been playing hide and seek in her bush, fingers darting around very close to some very intimate places that were on view, and all that Deb had done was squeal, mainly with fury, and abuse me.

Now that I was exposing her breasts, not even touching them, she was blushing and wriggling, trying not to look at what I was doing. Anyway, I pushed the bra out of the way and looked over my prize.

I reached out and placed my hands on Debbie’s naked breasts and squeezed them. Deb was blushing fiercely now, and squirming a little. I started massaging her breasts, paying special attention to her nipples, and Debbie started squeaking and twisting back and forth, but not so energetically, I noticed, that my hands might lose their grip.

Debbie, I decided, had too many clothes up top. I needed to remove some, but how with her hands tied? Then I got a brainwave. I didn’t need to remove them completely. Just get them out of my way.

“Watch your head, Deb,” I told her, and proceeded to push bra, blouse and cardigan up her arms and use some of the crepe bandage to tie them to the bonds at her wrists. This left me with Debbie naked to the waist, her skirt and petticoats bunched around her waist, and the pussy frame of suspenders and stockings.

I looked for the catches to the skirt and unhooked these little hooks and eyes. Ditto for the petticoats. Then a nice firm tug and down they came. I had to pull slightly harder as they passed under Deb’s bottom as she pressed down with it, trying to stop me, but once they popped free it was down her lovely legs and off, leaving me with a naked canvas bar suspenders and stockings, and I liked them just where they were.

Debbie was being very rude to me by this stage, but I tried not to let that worry me. I suppose most girls get a trifle emotional the first time they take their clothes off for a man. Now that she was naked, it was time to get better acquainted with her body.

I started off by tasting her breasts, my mouth latching onto one and starting to taste it. Pretty soon I was kissing it and sucking on it, taking the nipple in my mouth and rolling it around with my tongue. Then I visited the second one.

Debbie was carrying on still, but I could tell from the way she gasped when I nibbled on her nipple that she liked it. Her nipples sure liked it, standing up and demanding more.

After paying proper homage to a lovely pair of breasts my hand went wandering down to Debbie’s pussy, but this time I managed to slip my hand between her legs and cup her mound. Debbie tried to squeeze my hand with her legs, but I wasn’t having any of the nonsense. I tilted her slightly towards me and dropped a slap on her bottom.

“Just relax and let it happen, Debbie,” I told her. “It’s not as though I’m going to rape you. I’m just giving myself a chance to get to know what your body feels like. You should thank me. It’s also giving you a chance to see what it’s like to have a man admire your body.”

“You mean you’re not going to rape me?” asked Deb, sounding surprised.

I was quite insulted. What did she think I was?

“No, I’m not,” I assured her. “So why don’t you relax and just enjoy the feel of my hands touching you.”

Debbie relaxed a little after that, not exactly encouraging me, but no longer actively resisting. She squeaked a little the first time I edged her lips apart and slipped a finger inside, but she shut up again, and I could feel her moving restlessly against me.

Exploring inside her I eventually came to her clitoris, drawing a horrified shriek from her as I started stroking it. She literally started bouncing under my teasing fingers, twisting and begging for me to stop and then begging me not to.

With all this teasing of Debbie, my cock was getting harder and harder, swelling and stiffening until it felt as though I had a hot bar of steel in my pants. I just had to get some of the pressure off it.

I undid my fly and let my cock out of its confinement with a sigh of relief. Debbie gave a loud squeal when she saw what I had.

“What are you doing with that thing,” she wailed. “You said you weren’t going to rape me.”

“And neither I am,” I said indignantly. Didn’t she trust me? “You can see from the size of it that it was feeling a bit cramped in my trousers, so I’ve just taken it out to give it some room.

I’ll tell you what,” I added, struck by a sudden thought. “I’ll just lie on top of you for a moment and you can see what it feels like to have a man’s erection pressing against you. Don’t worry. It’ll be safe enough.”

Suiting actions to words, I rolled over on top of Debbie, nestling between her thighs and just gently rubbing my cock against her slit. Debbie squeaked and protested a little, but didn’t actually say much. She was looking intrigued at the cock rubbing against her, apparently enjoying the motion.

Debbie was breathing hard and rubbing herself in against my cock in time to the movement I was making.

“It seems awfully big,” she said, looking down at it, “and women are quite small. How on earth does something that size go into them?”

“Oh, generally quite easily”, I said. I reached down and eased her lips apart. “You see how your lips stretch there? That’s so that a man can ease the head of his cock between them and then they close on him. Like this.”

I showed her, easing the head of my cock between her lips and letting them relax onto me, holding me in position.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed. “That feels strange. What are you going?”

“Just showing you how it works,” I said, “so stop worrying. You’ll find that once the head is in like that the rest follows naturally. The head is the thickest part and once you push that into place all the rest is straightforward.”

As I was talking I was pushing steadily into her. For some reason Debbie hadn’t even noticed when her hymen ruptured, seeming to just concentrate on the feelings caused by this cock sinking into her.

It only took a few moments for my cock to be buried inside Debbie, sheathed to the max. That’s when she seemed to twig to what I was doing.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “You said you weren’t going to rape me.”

I pulled back and pushed home again, feeling her push up against me as I did so.

“And I haven’t,” I protested, continuing to slowly slide in and out.

“But you’re doing it now,” Debbie wailed, but still managing to bounce her bottom to meet my thrusts. Not bad for someone who was still tied down by a jammed seat belt.

“No I’m not,” I said. “I’m just showing you how it works.”

I was bouncing harder now. She was going to realise that she’d have to say stop sooner or later and then I’d have to quit or it would be rape. Fortunately, the pounding in her pussy seemed to be distracting her, preventing her from thinking logically, if women ever do think logically.

She finally started to work through the logic.

“Your cock is in me and you’re having sex with me,” she said, gasping as we bounced hard together. “That makes, it rape.”

“No it doesn’t,” I promptly replied, driving in harder and faster.

“Why not?” she demanded, gasping as she pushed hard upward, eager to meet my driving need.

“Because you didn’t say I couldn’t do this,” I pointed out, hands squeezing her breasts, dragging her nearer to climax.

If she hadn’t been tied down, Debbie would have been bouncing all over the car she was responding so vigorously.

“Well I’m telling you now,” she shrieked. “You have to stop.”

“OK. If you insist. Before or after your climax?”

Now I was really driving home and I could feel preliminary shudders from Debbie as she got ready to explode.

“After, damn you, after. But just as soon as possible, after,” Deb shrieked, then she screamed and bucked up hard against me, shuddering as she climaxed, softly squealing as each wave of pleasure rolled over her.

As ordered, I rolled off her, leaving her pussy bereft of my presence, the only reminder that I’d been there a warm glow and the fact that my seed was pooled warmly inside her.

“See,” I murmured. “You say no and I stop. You were silly to worry about it, now weren’t you.”

Debbie lay there, breathing hard and not quite sure what had happened, but quite certain that whatever had happened shouldn’t have. And if he thought she was going out with him again after this, he had another think coming.

“Would you look at that,” I said, pointing to the jammed buckle.

Debbie turned to look, puzzled.

“A pin is missing,” I said. “Fortunately, I believe I have a spare.”

I rummaged in my pocket, found the missing pin and pushed it into the side of the buckle. As soon as the lever was pulled it rotated smoothly on the pin and the buckle snapped open.

“Well, isn’t that fortunate,” I said. “With the belt open you’re free. Why don’t we take a walk down to the water and you can rinse yourself off. You’re rather sticky right now.”

“I’m also rather naked,” snapped Debbie. “Do you really expect me to walk down there like this?”

“Of course not, Debbie. Don’t be silly. You’ll need to take off your suspenders and stockings first, or they’ll get wet. Fortunately I have a towel in the car so you’ll be able to dry yourself.”

Debbie glared at me but I ignored that. I like to feel I’m a big enough man to rise above these petty tiffs. I just carefully assisted her out of her suspenders and stockings, before undoing her hands and helping her out of the car.

“Stop panicking,” I murmured. “There’s no-one around but us. You can have a quick dip and no-one will know.”

Watching Debbie run naked to the water I decided I’d have to bring her here again sometime. It would be fun getting to know her better, and I was quite sure that I could persuade her to take another ride with me. One way or another.

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