Love Affair With American Metal
The warm, seductive wind breathes sensual caresses on my exposed neck as it playfully flows in and out through the wide open windows of my stock 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle'SS. All 350 mighty horses shake the expertly designed chassis with all it's force. The power rhythmically rumbles through the exposed metal floorboard sending good vibrations up through the black crack-less leather bucket seats into the very core of my being. My responsive body feels every minuscule movement as acutely as though I were an aftermarket extension of the classic, undeniably sexy machine.
Every nerve is alive, my senses are on overdrive, it does not get any better than this. The road welcomes her, massages her hot, wide rubber tires, accepts her weight and pushes back with firm supportiveness. She rides smooth and sure, steadily humming down the deserted highway, responding to my every command. We glide through the turns, fly down the straight-aways, all the time in perfect unison. Her heart is excitedly going through it cycles, suck, squeeze, bang, blow, over and over again in quick succession perfectly timed, never missing. Her precision amazes me. She intoxicates me with her seductive give and take of power versus submission. She lets me believe that I control her but the truth is, she has me. I am a slave to her flawless beauty and barely contained raw horsepower. They just don't make them like this anymore. I will always be hers.