Caring for and Using Your New Car (erotica edition) (Patreon)

(heads up: filthy filthy sex language below) 

One of the most fun things I've ever done as a writer is Shipwreck, an erotic fanfiction competition produced by The Booksmith in San Francisco. Basically, each Shipwreck event, the host picks a work of fiction. They assign a different character from that work to each of 6 or so writers. Those writers then have to write a short piece of erotic fanfic, which will be performed by a single narrator. The audience votes at the end, and voila, we have a winner. 

In early 2014, they did a Shipwreck show in Brooklyn, and asked me to be one of the writers. (I believe Joseph Fink, Meg Bashwiner, Mara Wilson, Jacquelyn Landgraf, Holly Black, and Kelly Link were the others? I might be forgetting exactly who). We were given the novel The Great Gatsby, and I was assigned the character of the Yellow Car. 

I'd never written erotic fanfiction before, so I re-read that whole book and started looking up fanfic & slashfic on tumblr to prepare myself. Ultimately, I didn't think I could do it as well as other people, so I leaned into what I know best, which is absurd jokes. And in this case absurd sex jokes. 

And then I won! I hadn't won anything for writing since I was 17, so it was a damned thrill.  I'm pretty sure I won because while Cecil Baldwin (that night's reader of stories) was performing it, it caused him to giggle. Which, in turn, cause the audience to giggle too. Never underestimate the power of a contagious giggle.

But, who knows, maybe it was hilarious enough on it's own. Idk, you be the judge. 

Caring for and Using Your New Car
by Jeffrey Cranor

So you just bought a brand new automobile. Congratulations, car-buyer. Auto-haver. Drive-taker. Stick-shift fiddler. Road-rubber. Asphalt dry-humper.

You have joined the prestigious club of horseless carriage owners, but what next, rich guy? You certainly know how to spend your money... how to release the burning leather throb in your pants pocket. But how do you take care of the darn thing?

Well, relax, muffler-lover. Just follow these three simple guidelines for simple upkeep of your new car:

PART ONE: Engine maintenance.

Check your oil every three to four weeks. To do this you'll need to open the hood. Just reach your hand down below your seat. Between your legs you'll find a thin, hard wire. Tug on your wire until you hear a mechanical thump.

Now step to the front of your vehicle and place your fingers under the open edge of the hood. Raise the car's top slowly, because what is underneath is extremely hot. Slowly. Yes. Slowly lift its top.

Now bend forward. Lean forward, deep into the purring hollow. Find the dipstick. It's a small firm knob. It's very difficult to find. Move your face around the engine until you locate it. You will know when you do.

Don't move so quickly. Slow down or you'll miss it. Go up a bit. No, up. Up. There. There. That's it. You've... Nope. That's not it. To the left some. Maybe move your hands about a bit. It's a small iron loop, okay? Maybe if you put your fingers in there to feel about. Yes.

Yes! That is it!

Now pull that dipstick, and check that oil level . That's it. That was pretty good for your first time.

But, look at you. Covered in oil and holding your dipstick. You're a sticky mess.

Do you have a towel? You probably should have brought a towel. Definitely wipe that thing off before you put it back in.

PART TWO: Proper Body Care.

Care for your paint job like you would care for your own skin. You wouldn't NOT take a shower would you? You wouldn't forget to put on lotions and powders would you? You would never leave the house without a quick spritz of pleasing aromas - or as they sell in France: Axe body spray.

So why would you not also give the body of your car a similar caring touch. A car is an extension of your own self. Like you, your car is elegant, sleek, hard, pricy, loud, not as valuable as when it was new, covered in bird shit sometimes, an indifferent capitalist monolith, and supremely beautiful.

Wash your car with warm water and soap once a week. Use a terry cloth to rub out the dirt build up. Get on your knees and put your hands along the long chrome bumper and stroke it clean. Stroke it till it squeaks. Wear old clothes so you can get a little dirty. You don't have to worry if you splash a little warm soapy water down the front of your too-tight white shirt.

But be careful! You accidentally spilled a whole bucket on your shirt, and trying to rub it dry with the already soapy sponge is not helping.

In fact, it looks like you tore the top of the shirt a little, and now it's splitting down the middle, your hard chest pressing out, shiny and smooth with sudsy foam. Maybe you should just rub your soft, wet pecs up and down the warm shaft, just so you don't waste any soap. Yes. That's it. That's a very good rhythm. Just lay your slick skin against the hard metal tube and glide back and forth in smooth even motions.

That's the art of cleaning the chrome. Next, let's shine that paint job. So you got a yellow car? Well, how fashionable. Nothing says "disposable wealth" like a yellow car. Nothing says "I don't give two flapper fucks; look at my yellow fucking car you proletariat dogs" quite like getting a yellow car. Plus, dirt doesn't show up on yellow quite like it does on darker colors. But blood does. Sometimes the American Dream just wanders into the middle of the road and you simply don't have the time - or the empathy - to hit the brakes before splat! American fucking Dream symbolically streaking across the symbolic yellow fenders of your symbolic automobile... parentheses hubris.

But as long as you wax regularly, you oligarchic titan you, you should have no problems keeping your outer appearance clean.

PART THREE: Proper operation of an automobile.

We've talked about maintaining the engine. We've talked about keeping the car's good looks, but now the most important part: how do you even use a car?

This is an important question on the mind of many first-time 1920s car buyers. You must be asking yourself the obvious question: how do I fuck this car? I'd like to rev my odometer needle into the red. How do I go about fucking this vehicle.

First off, never fuck a car. Very few cars are ergonomically designed with fucking in mind. Also, while not sentient, and thus, unaware of being fucked, no car has ever agreed to a fucking. Third, even if it could agree to being fucked, I repeat, it is not sentient, and thus could not enjoy nor reciprocate the enjoyment of fucking, which is a necessary part of fucking. Finally, it's likely you are saying: but what about the exhaust pipe. And that's a terrible point as no human can fill an exhaust pipe with their member. Your flesh shaft would just lay there, pitifully small in the much larger metal shaft, imagine a breadstick getting a CAT scan.

But while car fucking is out of the question, fucking in cars is completely acceptable. In fact, 75% of car owners never actually drive their cars; they just fuck in them.

Fucking in a car is fun and easy. First, ask someone if they would be down for some mutual backseat come sessions. Second, that's vulgar and probably didn't work, try asking them more subtly, like, "Hey, I like you. We've been dating a while and I think we've reached a point in our relationship where it is time to sit in a backseat and touch each other until we explode liquids across our bare skin, surprised faces, and plush leather foldaway seats, heaving and breathing and feeling the lights of the city far below our sweat-dipped bodies." Third, okay that approach didn't work either, so look, just pull into this rest stop and jerk off. Hurry up. Okay, you can clean up with those Carl's Jr napkins that have been in the cupholders for... god, you can't even remember the last time you had Carl's Jr.

Well, anyway, congratulations, you've just fucked in your new car.

And that's it. You are now ready for the thrill of car ownership. You can put on your racing goggles, open those windows, and ease down your trousers. It's time to hit the road.