Donghai, Lianyungang, Jiangsu: A Memorable Test Drive Experience at Zhejiang Academy of Fine Arts

A couple of years ago, a guy from Hangzhou contacted me, saying he did business in northern Jiangsu and had a car he wanted me to test drive.
However, he hesitated for two reasons. First, his car was incredibly well-equipped—manufactured in 1993 and designed by the Zhejiang Academy of Fine Arts. Second, it was a brand new, one-owner car; no one else had driven it before, and he had no prior experience test driving with anyone. So he was extremely nervous.
As someone who'd been through similar experiences, I understood his anticipation, excitement, and fear about his first time. So I gently reassured him, telling him I was a very gentle and polite person, and that I was an excellent driver and would take good care of his car.
After a few days of conversation, he finally made up his mind. One afternoon, he found a location and invited me to test drive it. When
I arrived, wow, the car was in fantastic condition! Even though I'd seen photos, the real car still amazed me. Not only was it beautiful, but its artistic flair was captivating. This was probably the dream car of many men; I truly envied this guy's good fortune.
We chatted for a while. My brother's car seemed ready, not as restrained as I'd imagined, but rather quite serene. So I took a shower, and afterwards, I slowly stroked the entire car body. The perfect lines captivated me, and I couldn't control myself any longer, slowly licking the front of the car. From the front, to the body, to the back, the rear, finally stopping at the two rear wheels—long and translucent, slender yet not bony, smooth yet not bulky. I couldn't help but put them in my mouth, and my brother's car even began to tremble.
After a while, I moved on to the exhaust pipes, where I saw water seeping out. I licked it and tasted it; surprisingly, there was no strange smell. So I worked repeatedly between the front and rear exhaust pipes. My brother said it was the first time his car had received such a "maintenance."
After a while, my brother patted me and said, "The warm-up is done, get in!" So I put on my raincoat and slowly got into the car. But, I'd only gone halfway in when the car horn started beeping, as if saying: "Ah, too big, slow down." My older brother said, "No, you're too big. Slow down and let the car get used to it." So I got in halfway and started kissing the steering wheel. After a while, feeling less cramped, I plopped myself in. The car horn gave a long beep, making it hard to tell if it was joyful or uncomfortable, and the seat hugged me tightly.
Then I started driving slowly in a normal position. First, I used a light touch on the accelerator, then occasionally teased it with a heavy press, changing the rhythm so the car wouldn't know when I was going to hit the gas, allowing it to anticipate and prepare.
After a while, feeling the car had adjusted, I used my accelerator technique: nine shallow presses followed by one deep press. First nine shallow presses followed by one deep press, then eight shallow presses followed by one deep press, then seven shallow presses followed by one deep press, and so on, until one shallow press followed by one deep press, and then deep and deep, constantly increasing the speed.
After five rounds like this, I suddenly felt a tightness in the exhaust pipe, and a warm current enveloped me. With a long beep from the car horn, the car shook a few times and then broke down.
My brother and I exchanged a smile, and I said, "Brother, this car is really great! Driving it is simply awesome!"
My brother laughed heartily and said, "Brother, your driving skills are truly amazing!"
I held the steering wheel for a while to reassure myself before the broken-down car finally came back to life. A pair of beautiful headlights blinked at me, their faces full of intoxication and shyness.
My brother said from the side, "Can I drive for a bit too?"
So I turned the car around and let my brother drive from the back. I went to wash up, then stood at the front of the car, stroking its face. I saw the car horn slowly open, taking me in. And so, the front wasn't idle, and neither was the back. My brother and I cooperated, and my brother slapped the back of the car, but the horn was stuffed full and couldn't make a sound, only groaning softly.
After driving for a while, my brother said to me, "Come on, let me show you something good." He got out of the car and opened his suitcase.
Good heavens! What a suitcase! It was overflowing with car covers. There were black one-piece car covers, red halter-neck car covers, and even simple ones made of a few threads.
We changed into different covers, I'd drive for a bit, then my brother would drive for a bit. Then we'd change into another cover and take turns driving.
I remember clearly, we changed into eight different car covers that day! I have to say, the cars designed by the art academy have such high aesthetic standards. That was the first time I'd ever seen a car that so perfectly embodied sexiness and beauty.
I don't know how long we drove, but the car seemed to have become completely enchanted by our driving. At that moment, the car was at its most obedient and beautiful. My brother and I got out of the car, stood in front of the mirror, and turned the car around. The horn blared, seemingly engulfing both of us. But how could such a small horn possibly contain both of us? My brother looked at his car struggling in the mirror, a satisfied expression on his face. His car, looking at itself in the mirror, no longer felt ashamed, but rather brimming with excitement.
Happy times always pass too quickly; looking up, it was already dark. My brother and I got up, tidied up the car, and went downstairs for dinner. I have to say, driving all afternoon was really tiring! And looking at my brother's car, it had transformed from a high-class goddess car into a docile, adorable neighbor's car. My brother laughed and said to me, "Cars, after all, still need to be conquered!"
After dinner, we went back to the parking lot and played around for a while, chatting. I asked my brother if I could drive it some more. He checked the car with me, found it was still drivable, and started driving again.
That night, I slept hugging the car. The two headlights blinked in my arms, watching me, and the horn beeped: "Little brother, why do men invite others to test drive me?" I didn't understand my owner.
I looked at her, lost in thought.
Yes, why? I think everyone has their own answer.
So what's your answer? (
By the way, a quick plug: I'm open to chatting with people in the Lianyungang area. I also have a cousin who'd love to hang out; mine's big, his's thick. I'm a weapon master, he's a massage master (professional, not amateur). Individual appointments or group appointments are both fine. We both work for public institutions; our character and skills are reliable. Feel free to contact me.)

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Donghai, Lianyungang, Jiangsu: A Memorable Test Drive Experience at Zhejiang Academy of Fine Arts

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