Michael slept and Lee turned on the laptop. The password was easy to guess – Lee just thought of the cause of Michael’s departure from reason. The latest document Michael was working on popped open, the next chapter started and Lee stopped reading after only a few lines.
Tobias could almost smell the death, the sense of waste and futility as he watched on - a stunned spectator at the wheel of his own car. The cracking sound of the head against the windscreen - like a massive chocolate Easter egg being thrown at a brick wall. The quick splatter of blood that seemed instantaneous - premeditated; The sickening thud of the heavy body on the aluminium panels.
The words had little connection to the story at play, like this was simply a purging of Michael’s mind. It troubled Lee, concerned him that these words would come out of Michael on paper.
Lee could sense Michael’s therapy here, understand his reasoning but knew that the more he read, the deeper was immersed into Michael’s psyche. And the more he was alarmed.
He read further, taking in more of the story which appeared like an unconnected series of violent outbursts – descriptions of mutilations and disfigurements all caused by automobiles and those that drove them. The language had a sensuality, a sexual nature that was unnerving and disturbing.
The darkness that Michael described was more than a virtual fog – it had manifested itself into words.
Then Lee read on further and he started to understand the underlying point.
“Flip-flip” - The tyres rode over the cat’s eye markers between the lanes.
Carlton held onto the steering wheel as best he could…but he was distracted. Sadie had pushed her skirt up over her waist and was sliding between Carlton and the steering wheel - and onto his erect penis. As he slid into her, she bucked slightly, forcing him deeper and he struggled to get a good enough view of the road. The steering wheel jerked slightly in his hands as she rode him, the responsive power steering compensating for any slight unexpected movement.
His knees banged against the steering column as he adjusted himself for Sadie’s gyrations, his right foot depressing the accelerator intermittently, jerking the car faster.
At 10.30PM the freeway was close to deserted, but the few cars Carlton and Sadie screamed past were able to get a glimpse of their fetish at over 100 kilometres an hour. Sadie’s hair was in his face, Carlton blew air and spat it away from him as he tried to maintain some visual contact with the road ahead of him. At night, oncoming obstacles seemed to arrive quicker than they did during the day - even more so when you travel at 120 on the freeway with your girlfriend riding you all the way.
Sadie - his twisted little queen.
These games were becoming more and more exciting and she pushed the envelope further, always looking for the next thrill or the next kick. He had met her through the VRT support group at the hospital when she visited with her father. Sadie’s Dad had been in an accident and suffered brain damage - she simply couldn’t make any sense out of it. Her father had been a middle manager at a timber company, looking forward to retirement and golf five days a week. Now he sat in a day chair convalescing, waiting for the evening’s mushy meal and staring into the middle distance with a catatonic glare.
It was senseless - no amount of therapy or talking about feelings could ever hope to turn that into something more understandable than sheer, dumb-ass bad luck.
So Sadie decided to live - and Carlton was the ticket.
They devoured danger – the edge of sanity was getting thinner and thinner. The line between thrill-seeking and permanent disability was narrowing – almost transparent now as they dared to dare.
The scenarios, the rush, how it would be set up, filmed, relived and revisited…that was all Sadie.
She rode him gently, careful not to bump the steering wheel too much. Two other cars travelled with them – a BMW and a Subaru WRX, both stolen. Each car had at least one or two couples in it, each performing a variety of sex-acts. Sex in public is a thrill that cannot be explained - it must be experienced. Its more than just the thrill of getting caught - it’s the exhibitionist nature of being seen. They want to be seen, they want to get caught.
“Hey baby, how you going?” Carlton whispered breathlessly as Sadie continued her sensual grind on his crotch. He felt his cock sliding in and out of her wetness, the warmth so satisfying, so natural. He never felt so content with life than he did when he was having sex.
“I’m good,” she said, her hot breath against his throat. She bit down hard against the muscles in his neck, not breaking the skin but hard enough to leave a mark. His fingers gripped the wheel tightly, his right foot still hard on the accelerator.
“Are you close?” He could feel her approaching orgasm in her breath, in the increasing pressure of her thighs straddling his own.
“Fuck yes!” She replied, barely able to get the words out as she thrust away at him, her arms pulling her as close to him as she could get. “Fucking ride me hard and smash this car!”
Carlton pulled violently on the steering wheel, sending the Falcon across the lane and into the side of the stolen BMW. The side of Carlton’s car slapped into the passenger side of the Beemer, glass smashing instantly as the side windows splintered upon impact. Shards of razors sliced through the air and nicked at his skin, and at Sadie’s, providing tiny wounds that dug and split the skin with surgical precision.
Carlton felt no pain as the slivers of glass made their incisions – the soft oozing of venous blood washed over the tiny wounds. Maybe he was getting immune to this?
The tail-gating Subaru had nowhere to go but into the rear of the Falcon and hit on the rear passenger side and swinging the Falcon further into the BMW’s path.
Metal ground and twisted as the tyres squealed - ripping across the tarmac with the momentum of the vehicles interlocked - becoming as one. They joined, an obscene conglomeration of glass and metal, swarming as a gestalt unit towards the barrier on the outside of the emergency lane.
The cars continued their ballistic ballet, pirouetting around one another as they spun towards the crash barrier.
A slap.
A crunch – and the Falcon hit the barrier, sliding along the metal obstruction with a screaming protestation to the night sky. The Falcon and the BMW were nose to nose now – the Ford careening backwards along the rail, the Beemer pushing it along.
Sadie’s climax matched his own as Carlton felt the walls of her vagina contract and spasm into orgasm. He let his seed spout too – driving into her uterus with a rhythmic palsy. She thrust, screaming out cries of ecstasy as he let go of the wheel.
Delusions of control in a motor vehicle accident.
The cars slowed and stopped as Sadie rolled off his lap – their sexual juices mingling into a cocktail of desire. Their blood flowed slowly, light cuts from the glass now starting to sting as the blood and salty sweat leaked out of them.
Their cameras filmed, recorded. The depravity and excess of their desires were now entrenched in time, mementos of a fantasy that froze them in perpetuity. Tomorrow he would splice together the movie of their exploits – porn on wheels. Sex and mayhem at 120km/h.
His erection returned at the thought – Sadie noticed it.
Writing Crash Page 12
