El Torino y la Luna
The Torino sat in the deserted parking lot of the Metro Station basketball court, it's powerful engine silent, and yet it bounced heavily. Instead of the growling breath of a high-performance vehicle poised to lurch forward at its Master's command, the undignified squeaking of worn shocks sang with the crickets.
The Torino was jealous. Inside, a dark-haired man grunted with each thrust that he made into the woman pinned beneath him. His lumbered, determined breathing accompanied her moans of pleasure as she scratched long nails along his muscled back. "Oh, Dave, do it harder!"
"Yes, Darlin'! I'm tryin'!" the exhausted man replied as he attempted to shift his legs against her, restrained by the tight jeans that were pulled down to his knees. The woman yelped when he accidentally pinched her naked thigh against the smooth vinyl of the backseat. Starsky froze, "Damn it, Karri, I'm sorry!"
Karri laughed as she pulled his head back toward her face, "That's ok, lover, just get to work. I won't last much longer!" Hungry lips smothered whatever he tried to say next.
The Striped Tomato, Hutch's derogatory name for a masterpiece he did not understand, waited patiently for the human love-making to reach a predictable conclusion. For some reason, this time was taking longer than the others had. The Torino sighed. Made of all American steel and seats as pliable and nearly flesh-like as the humans who rode in it, the Torino wished it too could feel its Master's embrace and passion that way. While it loved holding the two men who gave it life and purpose every day, pursuing the dregs of society in the clumsy metal they pushed to destruction in feeble efforts to escape, the Torino envied the raw physical passion the Master focused on this woman.
Starsky had similarly fondled the Torino the first time they met at Bay City Ford three years ago. The Torino remembered the wide-eyed lust in the policeman's eyes as he examined the engine, rubbed the tires, and stroked the seats. It could tell this was no overgrown kid seeking a flashy car to impress the ladies. This was a young man in a fiery quest for power and domination. Starsky revved the 460 hp V8 engine that day and quietly asked the salesman if he could "test the responsiveness" of the car. The salesman, an unassuming older man in a conservative sweater and horn-rimmed glasses, made the mistake of answering, "Sure" before he had his seatbelt buckled. The guy's head snapped back as the HR78 x 14/B radial tires, mounted on sparkling Magnum 500 rims, squealed and smoked for the first time in the car's existence. And for the first time since it rolled out of the Ford factory in Detroit, where other men had quizzically stared at it, the Torino knew what it meant to be alive. When the test drive was over, the salesman was pale and shaken. For Starsky and the Torino, it was pure love.
The Torino knew Starsky loved it even more than most men love their cars. He once resisted a challenge made by his resentful partner to choose between them when it experienced a bought of overheating. The Torino forgave his human failings, like not always attending to its mechanical needs right away, although as a matter of pride he always kept the outside looking pristine. After a series of intense car chases, the Torino needed more maintenance than his Master could afford on a cop's salary, but he would never admit this to Hutch. They were alike that way, he and this magnificent machine. Sexy on the surface; desperately in need of loving care on the inside.
"Oh my God, that's it, babe!" Starsky groaned as he climaxed and spasmed. The woman beneath him shrieked with delight as her thighs wrapped tightly around his hips in orgasmic pleasure. He breathed out one last baritone moan and collapsed on top of her. She giggled as both tried to catch their breath. The Torino stopped rocking.
"Dave, thanks for letting me have my fantasy!" Karri tousled his dark curly locks as his face nuzzled against her sweaty neck.
"Shwew, wasn't sure there for a minute. I like the open playground of my bed a lot better!" Starsky mumbled and laughed softly as he lifted himself, still breathing hard. He smiled down at her as he gently pulled away, "I haven't made out in my car in a while." He caught himself and sat up abruptly, "Um, I mean…"
Karri laughed and touched his face, "Relax, silly! I know I'm not the only girl who's been back here." She pulled her legs out from under Starsky's perspiring body and faced forward on the seat, tugging down her skirt. Both noticed the windows were completely fogged over; they could barely see the glare of the street light across the lot from them. Starsky blushed, rubbed his face and peeked at Karri through his fingers. "Oops!"
"Just like a couple of horny teenagers, aren't we?" Karri joked as she adjusted her bra and smoothed out her blouse.
"Your wish is my command, Shhweetheart." Starsky replied in his best Bogey. Grinning his big quirky grin, he reached over and drew a heart on the damp glass next to Karri. Leaning in with one arm around Karri's waist, he kissed her deeply.
The Torino would have rolled its headlights if it could have. The Master could be such a sap sometimes. It preferred the hard-charging, tight-driving, loose cannon Starsky who pushed the car's bulky strength around tight corners, through garbage cans, and into curbs. Even though it was painful to have its alignment violently compromised, the rush of breaking every rule other cars had to follow was beyond exhilarating. Only Starsky understood the power of the blood red beast and could control it. While Hutch had driven the car on numerous occasions, he could never force the Torino to obey him the way it willingly obeyed its Master.
The Torino felt sticky vinyl rubbing against their bodies as Starsky and the woman moved to untangle their legs. Hopefully, his Master would remember to wipe the seat down before the next shift with his all-too perceptive partner. The blond one would definitely notice the smell of sex if they were cooped up in a stake out tomorrow, and he would give Starsky no end of shit about it.
Starsky struggled to pull up his ratty jeans in the confined space. "Do you want to go to my place and grab something? I have cold pizza and wine."
"No, I have to be at work early tomorrow," Karri buttoned the last button on her blouse, "I need my sleep, especially now." She laughed as ran her fingers through her damp, unruly hair.
"When can I see you again?" Starsky released his jeans and dismissed any possibility of getting them pulled back up to his waistline while they were both crammed into the backseat. The silence was palatable before Karri replied, "I'll call you." She touched his face, then reached down to search for the high heeled shoes she had haphazardly discarded in their passionate wrestling. They were lost amidst the coffee cups Hutch cavalierly tossed back there several times a day.
Even the Torino knew what that meant for Starsky. Having studied the nuances of its human occupants for years, the car recognized a brush off when it heard one. While feeling somewhat sorry for its Master, who would now obsess to Hutch and sulk for days, the Torino was also happy to think that once again it was undeniably the only one Starsky could count on. Even the partner had his less than stellar moments. But the Torino, the Torino was always there for him, eager and obedient.
"Okay, well…" Starsky's voice faded away as he wiped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. The brush off was disappointing but not surprising. Karri had nagged him about banging in the car since he met her at the Buy-n-Save a week ago. He should have known, he thought as he sat back and sighed. The damn car. It was always about the car. Sometimes that's all they seemed to want from him. Maybe if he drove a wreck like Hutch did he'd find a girl who cared more about his personality and less about the Torino's body. He laughed at the thought. No way would he be caught dead driving a piece of crap like that. He'd rather call a cab and wait for it, or even run after the bad guys, than drive Hutch's dust-colored heap.
The woman stopped fussing with her clothes. "Listen, maybe Saturday night?"
"Yeah?" he replied more hopefully than he wanted to sound, turning to face her.
"I know another place we can park," she added, squeezing his knee and smiling.
"I think the Torino has other plans," Starsky mumbled as he yanked down his shirt.
Soft tapping on Starsky's window startled him. Who else knew they were back here? He instinctively reached to where his 9mm should be tucked under his arm, then remembered it was wrapped in its holster on the front seat with his jacket. Whoever it was tapped again, this time more urgently. The Torino already knew who it was, of course, recognizing the shameful excuse for transportation that had pulled up next to it moments before. Starsky wiped the small, steamed up window next to him and sighed.
"What the hell, Hutch," he muttered as he stretched forward to unlock the passenger door.
"Hey, Starsk." His tall, fair-haired partner stooped down and pulled the front seat forward. "Sorry to interrupt but Dobey wants that Carson report signed right now by both… of…" Hutch's voice faded away as the street light illuminated the sweaty, scowling brunette.
"Are you kidding me?" Starsky yelled from the backseat at Hutch, who with mouth ajar, stood immobile and staring at his exposed partner in disbelief. "I told you don't bother me when I'm over here!"
The Torino relished these moments, when the partners bickered and threatened to kill each other, knowing they never really meant it. Even a car loves to laugh now and then.
"Starsky, hey, I'm sorry…" Hutch had little time to release the words before his annoyed partner leapt up from backseat. Slipping amidst the coffee cups, Starsky's sneakers tangled with the lost high heels and he fell forward and out of the car. Hutch caught him under his arms and held Starsky suspended between the Torino and the pavement with his naked butt glistening in the street light.
Looking past Starsky's shoulders, Hutch noticed the gorgeous blond woman in the backseat. Giving her his brightest Hutch smile, he shrugged, "What an ass, eh?"