A lovely long-legged blonde friend down in the Land of the Long White Cloud told me once that a few years ago she'd had an affair with an older, moneyed businessman who was wealthy enough to be part of an Aston-Martin Collectors' Society. I've had serious doubts about her stories in the past--- and I continue to doubt many of her stories. This one is I think more plausible. She works as a chartered accountant in some boutique firm, and it's certainly possible that she could've met him through work. In any case, she does like older men, and she likes posh adventures. According to my friend, her older man had a bank account with $10 million in it (though she never specified whether that was in $US, $NZ, or $AUS) and an obsession with Aston-Martins. Well, I don't see the whole thing as strictly impossible.
I asked her once what her favourite high-end car was, and she responded instantly: an Aston-Martin V12 Vanquish. I don't know if that's the car the businessman had ( if he existed) or if it's something she learned about from brothers who had posters of expensive cars on their walls when they were at school. A $300,000 car, mind you--- and that's in $US. She has however hinted that she's been naked in an Aston-Martin, and it is a great image to imagine her curled up naked on the passenger seat while the Vanquish speeds up the highway along the edge of the Tasman Sea north along the Kapiti coast.
Naked on expensive upholstery--- I have to love that image. I can imagine her in the car, peeling down skinny jeans and pulling off a sweater (she rarely wears anything like bras or underwear) and feeling the coolness of expensive leather against bare skin. (What was that sensation like for her?)There are questions about that that immediately arise, however: would the businessman be thrilled...or worried about passing police cars? And more to the point, would my friend keep her Ray-Bans on? That second question very much intrigues me.
Also--- sex in the Aston-Martin backseat, or did she ride him while he was in the driver's seat and the Vanquish was parked at some overlook? Which is the hotter thing? I'll have to think about that.
She did tell me that once she came up from the beach at Wainuiomata, southeast of Wellington, one night, tossed her bikini into the backseat of her car and drove naked back to her girlfriend's nearby beach house just to see if she could do it. That's plausible, I suppose. In her younger days, she sought out risk and adventure. Wainuiomata is away from the city, and she did love the scene in Steve Erickson's "The Sea Came in at Midnight" where the heroine blithely drives a stolen car naked from L.A. to Vegas one night. Memory says that in the Wainuiomata story she'd have been twenty or twenty-one, still a co-ed at VUW, driving a dark grey BMW her father bought her. I think I envied her the BMW more than I wished I'd been the one she'd been driving to visit.
And many a year ago, a very lovely girl from outside Asheville told me about deciding to prove something to herself and pulling off her sundress and driving home naked in her battered old truck to her parents' house down backroads in North Carolina. High school days, she said--- she'd have been sixteen or seventeen. Why don't lovely long-legged girls tell me these stories any more? She told me that being naked in the truck felt deliciously free on an early-autumn night. It was only being barefoot on the pedals that felt odd. I laughed at that. She'd always focus on the oddest details in telling stories about anything at all.
The stories are wonderful, and I wish I'd been the one driving my NZ friend or that the NC girl had been driving to visit me. I'll laugh though at the idea that the two stories only work if they're about lovely lithe young girls. No one male could ever do those things without being tagged as a serious pervert. For girls, though, it's all about adventures and visual beauty. It's about empowerment and courage and risk and proving something to oneself. Males have to rely on other kinds of challenge.
I do wish, though, that lovely girls were still looking to me to be the designated audience for their rites of passage.
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