V8 of Eights – Chapter 7

Mark noted that all this effort, as pointless as it was, had grown the front to back distance of the hole. This would make it easier for him to tow out the car with his truck. That, he was grateful for, and the show, oh the show. He had to step back a bit. He needed to consider getting release. If either ladies ended up blowing an orgasm… he’d probably blow a load himself too. But, if he didn’t stop Stacy soon, she’d probably roast that tire as well.

As Mark thought of a way to get the fury to end safely, his gut was getting upset with him for wanting to do the right thing. The way things were playing out, everyone would get their rocks kicked. However, sitting and watching was only but so much fun. There was a lot of raw emotions in the car and he was not a part of it. Plus, Meg so desperately needed a cold shower and the embrace of Todd. This would give Mark time to be alone with Stacy.

Looking at his watch, he knew that the moment of solitude would not come this day. He had a flight to catch. Instead of risking a blown tire, it was time to take control of the situation and calm things way down. There were too many flowing moods.

Stacy saw Mark advancing. He had that hero look she adored. He was coming to her rescue. He was taking over. He was… taking over!

Oh. Heck No. She was not weak. She was not unable to get free. She was not done fighting. She needed a few more minutes. She needed to get free! She had to. Just had… to.

Stacy slammed the pedal hard and prayed the car would just edge over and get free. The rear wallowed and danced about. She knew she had gotten exposed again but she didn’t care. The car furiously obeyed but gravity was pulling the car back into the hole. Meg was laid out against the door, spent in more ways than Stacy understood.

Stacy was not going to let Mark come to the door and move her over and take charge. No, she was not done trying to redeem herself. As he approached the trunk of the car, Stacy let off the gas just long enough for the RPMs to safely drop low enough for her to yank the gear shifter into drive.

No sooner she felt the gears engage, she stomped as forcefully as she could the pedal mercilessly to the ground. The car had to be punished for embarrassing her like this in front of her man. She needed to show him she was capable of handling this situation.

The rear axle nearly hopped and skipped deep in the wheel-well as the transmission grappled and fought to force the tires in the forward direction as the motor coughed, spat, hissed, and jerked against the resistance of the driveline.

The car settled into the hole as the engine spooled up to full song. The momentum from the settling plus the thrust of Stacy’s body was just enough to get the car to surge forward and start to climb the front side of the hole it was in.

The speedometer raced up as the transmission struggled to keep pace. The momentum seemed there. The engine seemed on it’s last final bout. The tires screamed. The copious mass of jettisoned mess spewed like an angry army of seed being flung out on fertile land for pillaging. The gears continued to race up and overdrive was finally found. The speedometer was fully pegged.

Stacy’s body was wracked with a violent shutter of a massive orgasm as the tires cleared the lip of the hole and the car started to move forward as it dug aggressively into the soft wet dirt.

Meg’s spent body shuttered with aftershocks of pleasure as she felt the strong vibrations of the maxed out engine rush through her.

Stacy was well elevated off the seat and was quivering as she screamed out Mark’s name in uncontrolled writhing heat.

Mark jumped behind the car and pushed with all that he had. If he didn’t push now, Stacy was bound to dig the Nova quickly into a second hole. The car wallowed left and right as the sawing tires dug in quickly while making slow forward progress.

The volcanic hot heat was burning Mark up. Not that he was pushing behind the tail pipe of the car, but all that generated heat from the motor being pushed back below the bodywork was now hitting him as the fan of the car struggled to cool the overworked overtaxed over-strained V8.

The rev limiter was hesitating to kick in as Stacy stayed fully engaged in her pursuit of freedom. The rumblings of the car as it fought ever changing levels of traction shook Mark’s arms as he gave it everything his being could muster.

The progress was very slow, the tires were digging in way too fast, but Stacy was not letting up at all. From the outside looking in, if someone had not known what was at play, they would swear there was someone giving the best blow job to Stacy, the way her body was undulatingly flailing about the seat as her hands held on for dear life to the steering wheel.

As the car whipsawed the ground into submission as it made it’s way to freedom, Mark hoped there were no rocks to get thrown about. It was the most thunderous scream of a V8 he had heard out of a non-race-prepared-engine. It was begging for mercy while eagerly serving it’s mistress. The tires, while super heated and bellowing out smoke, were doing their job of finding what grip there was to be found.

With one last heavy push, Mark did the best he could to jump out of the way and find safety. The heat was proving to be a bit too intense, plus the car was now making enough headway that it would soon be free entirely. All Stacy had to do was back off the gas enough so that the tires were not digging in so fast. Such a deep rut would be near impossible to jump over once the car got to the path it was once on.

Stacy was seeing freedom. She was sensing it. She felt the change in the vibration of the car. It’s like the car was eagerly singing in anticipation of freedom. The dashboard was starting to flash all kinds of Christmas lights that was not registering in Stacy’s mind.

Mark saw how the car nearly didn’t make the lip of the asphalt. He was wishing the car on with all his best vibes. If she lost any more momentum, she’d dig in too deep for help. However, now that the front of the car had made the asphalt, he was not as worried about towing her if she dug in.

The determined look and posture Stacy was giving was tugging at all the right chords. He was feeling pride. Sure, what was happening was not at all logical, but her determination to see her part through, the focus, the discipline, and the sexual heat! He was proud. His baby was doing great.