Thursday, February 21, 2008

Driving Skills

I am so proper … so measured and discreet.
Time has tempered my expression … and Propriety , my voice.
Yet, today, as I worked, I wondered …
Is it only me … or are there many others?
Men and women, who knew the freedom of bench seats in cars;
The liberation in an absence of seat belts;
Access to and even the expectation of,
One’s date sliding across from the passenger side.
Yes, I wonder, how many … from those pre-seventies time;
Still think back on the excitement of His arm around Her, as they go?
Her leaning against Him as though to say
That all of her immediate and future contentment was in Him alone.
How many men, of that time, relive, with me today,
A present and alive awareness of those times of private travel?
When, if She and He were at that place of trust and commitment,
She would place Herself in his arms.
Yes, I recall well, holding Her in my right arm
As my well motivated left hand attended to every demand
Of steering that huge wheel, shifting those gears,
Implementing all required signals of turning and lighting.
So that my right arm could attend to Her comforts and desires.
An attending that invited the hand to burrow beneath that fleecy sweater,
Urged those fingers to release, with all of the skill and dexterity,
Of a fine surgeon … that tiny clasp on that lacy bra.
And all the while, He is motoring along some highway
And, I remember well and accurately, that He was in complete control.
He exhibited skills in navigation and driving that I envy today.
Just as I envy the joys known to his other arm.
Ah, the rapture and delights known to His touch …
How magical the sensations created by Her full, soft, and inviting breast;
How exhilarating, and all consuming, the symphony …
Generated by Her ecstatic responses to His finger-tips.
As though He played the keyboard of some magnificent instrument
With alternating lightness of touch, or a firmness of purpose,
Their passion evokes murmurs and movements …
Equaling Wagner’s most powerful, or Mozart’s most playful.
How many, from those years passed, have such recollections, I wonder?
So, for them … whoever they may be … and in whatever circumstance
I decided to let down my wall of propriety today …
And let Him … or Her … all of them, or even, perhaps, just the one,
know that …

You are not alone!


Anonymous said...


Yes I do remember those fond days of yester-year where one can still sit close to a sweetie on a bench seat. You just have to use the center seat belt. I have done that on many occasion. Who cares if you don't have a shoulder harness confining you or the extra protection of an explosive air bag as long as you can sit snuggled next to your honey and he can play with your boob or whatever. ;-)

Have a good one my friend.

John-Michael said...

Now, there's a relief!

It is not just me alone ... Hooray for us!

nitebyrd said...

I smiled as I read this. It brought back memories of an old Chevy Impala on country back roads.

Nice memories.

John-Michael said...

Three cheers for Memories, Chevy Impalas, and Country Back Roads!!

Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!

(no, I don't have a clue what a "Huzzah" is ... but it expresses the emotion well. [smile])

John-Michael said...

By the way, NiteByrd, Please let me know where "Hell, Florida" is so that I may be careful to route myself around a place worthy of that moniker. (Sure hope that is not close to me here in Tampa!)

Lizzy in the Burbs said...

Hi, John-Michael!

Things may not be the same as they used to be, but believe me, seatbelts and bucket seats or not, if there's a will, there's a way! :-)


John-Michael said...

""Hope springs eternal in the human breast..."

Lizzy! You are an inspiration! (and a heck of a lot of fun as well [smile].

(Thank you for indulging my departure from whatever "norm" is customary here.)

Sandi McBride said...

I don't think we ever had a bench seat...we've always had four on the floor with bucket seats...and I found out long ago sitting on the console is painful...I notice you're from Tampa...I grew up on Davis Island off Clearwater...Mac is from West Palm...howdy neighbor!!!

John-Michael said...

Yes, indeed! "Four-on-the-floor with a Hurst shifter" ... every guy's dream set-up. Used to be the "telephone man" on Davis Island. Right back to you with a "Hi there neighbor!"

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