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Kill Story King
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Discussion Starter #1 (Edited)
Yes, the pale horse was sold. No the Grey glob didn’t get a vvti single, but the red dragon is on the operating table. Even though I can’t spin tails which border on myth, from the helm of my ole Toyota Cressida, I can still press a gas pedal, well.

LESSON ONE : Yield signs
By a show of hands how many people know what to do at a yield sign? According to driversed.com, “A triangular red YIELD sign means slow down, be ready to stop, and let traffic (including people walking or riding bikes) pass before you go ahead. Go only when it is safe.” I will be the first to admit, I might have not known the precise definition, nor do I always obey by the rules stated above, but I do use common sense. Honda drivers, let me reserve this comment for the majority of them as this will not apply to all, have VTEC for sense. VTEC stands for Very Terrible Etiquette and Control.

It’s a little calmer when the time changes in Mexico (Florida), a little cooler, things move a little slower. It’s a quiet pace.

This day started no different. The birds were out talking to the squirrels, weaving majestic tales about their journey from the cold hostile north. The squirrels would lazily speak of the hardships of not giving a fuck about hibernation or storing vast reserves of food. They would chuckle while digging holes in my yard to pretend bury food, and eat my wife’s garden just to get fatter. (How’s that rat trap taste you lazy little fuckers?) The double beep of my alarm stimulated my driver hemisphere of the brain, preparing for the catatonic morning commute. I sat my slim frame into my heated perforated seats, checked my mirrors, smiled at life, and pressed auto-pilot.

It’s quiet on the streets, did I mention that, real peaceful. The snow birds haven’t arrived yet, well the ones that survived the harsh northern summer, its light out, it’s just nice. I really don’t remember the events that led up to the exchange I am about to put forth in detail. I am sure I was all smiles, eyes glazed over listening to the hum of the engine, while my ass sweated from the heat below.

I must have been approaching the part in the highway where cars enter. You know these places they occur every mile or so, they have about a quarter mile or less dedicated to help people fall in line with the rest of the common folk on the road. They all have yield signs, people happily wave on their fellow co-workers when traffic gets backed up. You know that half smile, “come on little buddy, it’s your turn.” Eye contact occurs, a hand gesture is made, and the car knows it is okay to come out and get in line. This process moves like a conveyor belt. It’s beautiful, it’s perfect, but not this morning oh no.

My turn was softly approaching. Checking the review mirror I was making sure I had the right “look” practiced. Fiddling with my hand signals, I was considering whether to gesture with an open palm, or do I motion only with my fingers while my hand stayed fastened to the steering wheel. Lean to the left, did I do a head nod, it was go time.

A nice young lady in an Audi was merging; I leaned to the right, positioned my head a little toward the ceiling, and motioned with my pointer and middle finger. I gave her the morning pimp signal as I called it. She slowly crept in the lane. I crept forward keeping close to her compact little ass. A bit of morning infidelity I suppose. I was close enough where I could see the creases in her bumper, if you know what I mean. Everything was going just fine. The turning lane was almost ending, it started to angle back into the road, with each roll forward the area got smaller and smaller, when out of nowhere shot a little samba green pearl Del Sol. I knew this color pattern as in my past I liked Honda. I guard this secret like I guard the fact I owned a pair of roller-blades at one point in my youth. It was a 1994 SI, it wasn’t a bad car it’s just like a Miata to me… *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*. I couldn’t react due to my catatonic state and I was caught in the middle of mind fucking the chick in the Audi in front of me. He ducked right into the small space in front of me. Now I will be the first to admit, this normally wouldn’t mean shit. Har, har, you got me, good one, you just cut 0.2 seconds off your drive, but this asshole, notice I am ass-u-ming this individual is some punk kid, who is either on his was to Dunkin Donuts to start the morning shift, or has just left from his friends after a late night binge of Mountain Dew and Call of Duty. No offense to gamers, I like to game just as much as the next guy, it’s just I balance it into life as well. I smelled the taco bell emanating from his vehicle. On top of all the rambling in my mind, this cock bag, hits his flashers like he just won the fucking La Mans. With no were to go and nothing to do I could only wait to exact my revenge.

The sun light broke through the window and I caught a vision of a woman, a young woman… I could not make out much more than white lined sunglasses and shoulder length brown hair tossing about in the wind. Hoping and praying we would be alone at last, my hands sat clenched around the wheel, more puckered then your asshole about to explode during the ride home from a Chinese restaurant. My exit was upon me, but wait, what is this, she is getting off too! The good thing about this exit is it really just merges onto a smaller less populated highway. Hi HO lucky day. I am on her ass and she can feel me pulling at her hair. I imagined her hair threaded through my fingers while I watched her back writhe with passion. Her butt clapped at my stomach harder with each tug. I reined her in. Moving my hand from cheek to neck, trying to settle her down. Her mouth opened. The roar of the VTEC awoke my imagination. Not getting to far ahead I smash the gas right behind.

The road opened up into two lanes, and was desolate. She was about a car ahead of me, and putting some distance on me. We were racing at about 45, now 55, no change in distance, 65 I begin the slowly crawl up her side, 75, I am on her bumper 85, I am at her passenger door, 95 we make eye contact. She is young, maybe 20, full of life, fit, and slightly brown, the tone of a perfectly toasted hash brown, perhaps Asian. She is glowing from cheek to cheek and giving me a thumbs up. I didn’t let my mind wander again. I shook it off, she gets no free pass 105, and I am really putting distance on her. She could have possibly slowed down, but fuck it. Full tilt, I quickly was force to slow as I approached the light at the end of the long off road.

My heart was a racing a little bit. In the rear-view coming over the slight hill was the same samba green pearl Del Sol. I didn’t want much of a red light as I would hate to break her heart with the news of me being married. I noticed as she crawled up beside me the windows were completely down. The young girl leaned into the passenger seat and our eyes meet. Something was wrong. Still smiling she said, ”Man, can’t beat luxury with a V8.” I noticed something strange. One the figure who was a “woman” had no breasts; secondly the voice was not lady like at all. In fact it was deep and man like. Lastly, was that an Adam’s apple!?! Am I dreaming? What the FUCK!!! Frustrated, confused, I felt violated. I really can’t say anything more. I feel dirty, breaking bad dirty! You already know too much.
 

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my emotions are everywhere reading this
 

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Another great story from the master. Thanks again.
 

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Brilliant!
 

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HAHAH! Great details with a fucked up twist! I don't come around this end of the forum as much, nor I didn't remember your user name untill I read 'Yes, the pale horse was sold.' From this point on, I knew I had to keep reading haha. You got good stuff.
 
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