Welcome back to my sexual autobiography, answering questions I see posted on the Lush forums with a true story!

And this poster asks, Is sex in the car awesome or awkward?

I’d love to be able to tell you that I have been ravished on the backseat of a car. I really like the idea of making passionate love in a limo or a millionaire’s super-car, my hands desperately grasping steam-soaked windows as I succumb to orgasm, perhaps deep in the car-port of a boat, like Rose in Titanic. It’s something of a fantasy of mine.

Unfortunately, I’ve promised to be truthful in this series, so I have to admit that my sexual experiences in cars are, basically, confined to giving blowjobs! 

My first blowjob didn’t take place in the car, but some very early ones did, and there was an important first on the backseat, which forms the heart of this tale. If you can’t guess what it is, read on!

One problem that many young Spaniards face is escaping the prying eyes of their parents to get their rocks off. Nowadays, living with a partner before marriage is much more common than it once was, but attitudes are still, generally, relatively conservative and most parents do not allow their offspring to have lovers over for the night, even when they are legal adults. To the best of their knowledge (!), I didn’t sleep with a man under my parent’s roof until I was married.

In my late teenage years, before I went away to college, my parents certainly weren’t about to invite my boyfriends to stay over. I would never have plucked up the nerve to ask. 

So what was an MC1982 to do? Be quick about it, is the short answer. My earliest sexual encounters were conducted within tight time windows when either his or my parents were out. 

And, for a young couple who couldn’t afford hotels, what was the best alternative to sneaking into the family home? 

Well, there were three, where I lived. There was the beach, if you could stay out until the dead of night. There was the forest. And there was the car. 

My first real boyfriend was called Francesc. We were eighteen and we’d met at college. When this incident took place, we were advancing step by step towards having proper sex for the first time, but had not yet done the deed. We were building up to it, one session of oral sex or mutual masturbation at a time. My first, clumsy, attempt at a blowjob had finished with Francesc coming all over my hands. His first try at giving me oral sex had not resulted in fireworks, but we’d both learned from it.

One night, early in our courtship, we agreed that, if our date had to finish, it should finish with a make-out session. I parked up in the forest car park near the ancient aqueduct of Tarragona. Our seat belts came off and we started kissing. As nice as the tongue touching and lip sucking was, it was a strain on the neck, so we moved to the back seat. 

With much wriggling and writhing, we made out. As we kissed, I caressed his bottom, and he fondled my breasts, which made my nipples chafe on my bra. I could feel his erect cock through his trousers. I was so horny! I wanted to touch it. I had him sit up and I crouched on my hands and knees. My heels kicked against the door as we fumbled with his belt, button and zip, until Francesc managed to free his cock. By the light of the moon, it stood to attention.

I played with it a bit, enjoying the sight of his penis. Francesc’s was the only one I’d seen at that point, at least in an intimate scenario. So the sight and feel of an erect phallus still had novelty value for me, at that time. And it felt nice! It was warm in my hands, and just the right shape for a clenched fist.  

The first time I’d blown him, I’d been nervous, hesitant and unsure. My technique had been correspondingly light of touch, soft and gentle. Honestly, I’d been afraid of hurting him. I’d used my grip just as much as my mouth, and he’d ended up coming all over my hands.

But this time, I went down swinging. I sucked his shaft firmly, and licked around his tip. I layered as much saliva as I could onto that penis, pinched it between my lips and dipped slowly, teasingly down. 

It was awkward in spatial terms. My heels were pressed on the door, and my bottom bumped against the window as I bobbed up and down. After a few minutes of sucking it, I could feel that he had grown as a result of my ministrations. His cock was both larger and harder and, now it was wetter, easier to suck and better tasting. 

Although I wasn’t yet ready for deep-throat, I got it as far as it would go without gagging. Francesc’s testicles were hanging just off the seat, so I tickled them with my index finger as I went back down. Looking up at him, I saw his eyes were closed. His knees were trembling. He was breathing deeply. He was in a place I could only imagine. Generally, guys have moaned or whispered to me or even shouted as they had their dicks sucked. But Francesc never said a word. He just closed his eyes and enjoyed it, his fingers gently caressing my scalp. Even when I sped up to bring him home, he held his tongue.

I came up for a breath, and used a portion of my fresh oxygen to tell him to come, come in my mouth, come whenever he wanted to… 

And, sixty seconds later, he did just that. Francesc’s jizz fountained out onto my tongue, and I felt it running down and onto the base of my mouth. I swallowed it, testing the taste (sort of salty) and the texture, which was fine. The first time I swallowed cum, it was quite watery, but I’ve later swallowed thicker, more globulous loads, a texture I don’t care for as much. 

That night, by the light of the moon, a man orgasmed into my mouth for the very first time. It happened on the backseat of a car. He would tell you it was awesome. I’ll tell you it was…fun! Awesome would be putting it too strongly. 

Gallantly, Francesc offered to pleasure me with his fingers or his tongue. But I declined, saying it was late and he could owe me one. I was due at home soon. 

He would later repay his debts, but that’s a story for another day.

Is sex in the car awesome or awkward? From my admittedly limited experience, a bit of both!