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car lover - excerpt...
Max wasn't sure which one he made love to first, but he suspected it was the Corvette. One day when his playmate had scampered home for supper, he was absentmindedly moving the car around the carpet in a little figure eight. His gaze drifted to the delicate curves of the toy and he felt a little twinge below his belly button. His eyes roamed the smooth body, the firm, ample bumper. Without thinking he began to unzip his pants, removing the source of his tingling. He placed the car on top of it, the cold plastic sending a little shiver up his spine. He began to glide the wheels smoothly over his flesh until he felt his penis swelling beneath the car. He pressed harder.
When thick, milky droplets began to spurt onto the floor he recoiled at first, confused, ashamed. But the odd feeling that he was doing something strange and unnatural wasn't enough to quell the pleasure he had experienced. From that moment on the toy cars were more than his friends; they were his lovers, stroking him, teasing him, nurturing him until he exploded beneath them.
burback speaks...
I’m currently a college student in Orange, California, and as a Creative Writing major I’ve gotten more strange looks than I can count after turning in my stories. A professor once told me that he was disappointed to see such a nice girl concoct something so unfeminine. I suppose I could write children’s books—do most stories about lost puppies end with a zombie apocalypse? Hmm, I suppose I should stick to dark fantasy and horror. The story in this anthology was a product of a twisted imagination that needs only a single word (in this case: car) to unleash the demons.
I’ve always loved cars. My dad and I went to the annual classic car show in Forest Hills, Oregon. In Oregon this was a big deal—most Saturdays involved watching the rain cause a mudslide or poking small forest creatures with sticks. My dad and I cruised the rows of classic beauties—Cadillacs, Mustangs, even the coveted Cobra. All the car owners sat in little beach chairs, watching as passerby shot their cars looks of admiration and awe. Every so often you’d see the car owner who looked more stressed than festive. He’d watch as people stepped toward his car, leaning forward in his seat and watching the children like a hawk. His eyes would bulge if someone dared to step a little too close, and he’d fly out of his chair in an instant if someone attempted to touch a tire or run a finger along the hood. A leaf would fall on the trunk and he’d leap over and bat it away with disgust. He constantly groomed the tire rims with a toothbrush, whispering to his baby as he scrubbed. And if you saw the frazzled hair, the red-rimmed eyes, and the look of paranoia on this guy’s face, you might wonder if the guy urinated in a bottle and avoided bathing so he wouldn’t have to leave his baby—even for a moment. So essentially, this story is about that guy—the guy who loves his car with a fierceness bordering on psychosis.
Remember that women can be just as sick, twisted, and dark as the boys. Hell—some of us even love cars! Happy reading!
burback bio...
Courtney Burback is currently an All-American girl in her final year at Chapman University in Orange, California. She actually looks quite normal upon first glance. Although she has several stories slated for debut in science fiction magazines and anthologies, Chimericana Books was the first to pop her publishing cherry.
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