The Parking Garage

Image via WikipediaThe other day, I was walking by a multistory parking garage in the mid 50s on the west side, right on the corner of 8th Ave. It's the one that's on the same block as the Ed Sullivan Theater, where Late Night With David Letterman is filmed. I smiled as I went by because it reminded me of a little adventure that I had there some years ago.

There was a short brunette who I was going out with at the time. We had driven her car into Manhattan. At that time, I had lived on the outskirts of New York City, on the far edges of Queens. Even though it was still part of NYC, it was so far out that on weekends, it would take over 2 hours by subway just to get home. Therefore, you really needed a car if you wanted to get home at a decent hour. Brunette lived in the same basic area as I did so it wasn't too bad a drive. At least, she didn't live in a completely different direction.

Anyway, we went into the city (as Manhattan gets called, even by people who live in NYC) for some dinner and clubbing. After many hours of festivities (especially the dirty dancing and body grabbing in the club), we headed back to the car. We had parked up on a higher floor in the hopes that people would park lower and maybe leave our car alone and not park next to it, smashing it, etc. Hey, these things are important. I don't need to tell you car owners about coming back and seeing your car with dents on it from other cars parked next to you.

As we walked to the car in the stairwell, there were many stops in order to kiss and feel under clothing. I knew where this was heading. I was just trying to figure out if we were going to last until we got back to my place. The answer was no. "Let's fuck by the car. I can't wait until later" Brunette said as she hungrily kissed me. I was down with that so up we continued to the car.

Now, it was winter so we both had on long jackets: perfect for discreet outdoor fucking. Plus, I had parked next to a wall so that at least one side of the car wouldn't get slammed. Also, there was a wide support beam right next to the car, which would block any security cameras that were installed (this was just before 9/11 so security cameras weren't as popular then as they are these days).

Brunete cozied up next to me, undid my pants, and yanked down my pants. Thanks to her teasing and taunting all night, my cock was already pretty harrd. She stroked it to complete the job she started earlier. I pulled Brunette's panties down, took them off of her, and pocketed them. Then, I put her on the hood of the car, spread her legs, and put my head between her legs.

Brunette started moaning lightly as my tongue danced across her pussy lips. I started famishly eating her, each lick craving more of her. Brunette didn't want too much of my tongue. She wanted my cock. "Just fuck me now" she said. I didn't need to be told twice. I got up, pulled her towards me, and inserted myself into her. "Fuck me hard" she screamed as she drunkenly moved her hips towards me; trying hard to fuck me. However, she was in a bad position at the time. I adjusted my hips and plowed in. She and I started ramming each other, she being the drunk one because I knew I was going to be driving back. I took full advantage of her. In no time, we both came; both of us knowing it was just a quickie and that we'd be seriously fucking once we got home.  "Thanks for helping me take that one off my bucket list" she said as we gathered ourselves and got into the car. "I've always wanted to have sex in a parking garage".

I noticed as I walked by the other day that they've made changes to the garage. Gone are the days when you could just drive in and out. Now, you drive in and they have a valet park your car with an elevator system. That's too bad. If those garage walls could talk, I wonder what other stories they could tell, especially since it was right next to the old Studio 54 club?