Casey had known Rebecca for only a short time when he found out she liked speed. I'm not talking about the drug, amphetamine sulphate, I mean she liked to speed.

‘I love cars,’ she said, soon after the pair had first met, as they’d just climbed into his car. ‘I love the way they smell; the leather.’ Rebecca ran her fingers over the edge of her seat.

It turned him on somehow when she did this; it was as if she was caressing the leather, he could imagine those fingers stroking his cock.

‘Take me for a spin,’ she asked him.

They were travelling on a narrow country lane, the first time it happened.

‘Go faster,’ she told him.

‘Faster? This is a 50 mile per hour speed limit,’ he informed her.

‘Fuck the speed limit, go faster!’ she insisted.

He accelerated slightly; trees and shrubs began to flash by.

‘Faster!’ she urged him again, holding her head back and closing her eyes.

‘I can't, we're going too fast as it is.’

She opened her eyes and looked over at the speedometer. ‘We're only doing 70,’ she complained.

‘What if something comes the other way; it's only a narrow lane. I'm going to slow down.’

‘No, fuck you! Go faster!’ she cursed. She leaned her head back once more and closed her eyes, she was breathing heavily; she looked like a woman who was about to reach orgasm. Her hands gripped the sides of her seat and again she moved them over the leather.

Casey tried to keep the car at 80, but found he had to slow down, then he nearly hit a fence, so, unnerved, he quickly pulled up at the side of the road.

She opened her eyes. ‘Why have you stopped? Don't you find speed exciting?’

‘Not on a narrow country lane, no.’

Rebecca undid her belt.

‘Where are you going?’

‘You're no fun.’ She opened the door.

‘Where are you going?’ he repeated, ‘we’re in the middle of nowhere.’

‘I'm going to walk back.’ She stepped out and slammed the car door shut behind her, emphasizing her annoyance.

Rebecca walked hurriedly from the car. Casey put the car into motion and levelled beside her, keeping the car moving in pace with her.

‘Look this is stupid, get in.’ he called over to her.

‘Fuck off,’ she replied.


She ignored him and kept on walking.

‘All right,’ he said, seeing as how he wasn't going to entice her back into the car until he gave in to her. ‘I'll take you for a real spin.’

She stopped and turned towards him, Casey brought the car to a halt. Rebecca leaned into the car. ‘A real fast spin, no chickening out?’

‘Yeah, if that's what you want,’ he told her. Casey didn't really want to do this, but if it was the only way to keep her keen on him; a few shaken nerves were little sacrifice to make.

‘Now you're talking,’ she said, and jumped back in.

She positioned herself in the passenger seat and strapped herself in.

With a squealing of wheels, Casey put the car into motion and soon reached 50, then 60, then 70.

‘How fast are we going?’ she asked him, holding her head back again and once more closing her eyes.


‘Go faster,’ she told him.

‘Whatever you say.’ He pushed the accelerator down to the floor and increased his speed to 75, then 80 and soon he reached 90. ‘We're doing 90,’ he told her.

‘Go faster,’ she said.

He obeyed her.

‘We're going over 100,’ he said watching the scenery fly by.

She opened her eyes and looked over to him. ‘Fuck you, go faster, dammit!’ she shouted.

He hit something, a branch of a tree or something, and the wing mirror was knocked off. ‘Shit, my wing mirror!’ he said.

‘Fuck it, keep going; faster!’ she ordered him. She closed her eyes again and reached her hands down, pulled her dress up and smoothed her hands over the insides of her thighs. Casey glanced at her movements, when he returned his attention to the road a car was coming towards them.

‘Shit!’ he said pressing the footbrake to the floor and swerving the car to the side of the road.

The other car beeped as it approached him, there wasn’t going to be enough room to pass without hitting it unless he kept right in to the left, this would mean scraping bushes. Mercifully a gap appeared in the bushes, he twisted the steering wheel to the left and entered a field. The car bumped and shook over the rough ground, until he finally brought it to a halt. His heart was pounding. When he looked over to Rebecca, she had her eyes closed, and was leaning back on the headrest.

‘That was wild,’ she breathed.

‘I nearly killed us,’ he said.

Rebecca opened her eyes and leaned over to him, and pressed her lips on his. Her tongue searched his mouth for his own, he met it and they kissed. While they kissed, she moved his hand to her thigh; he began to stroke it.

They pulled from the kiss.

She slid over towards him, Casey looked down. Rebecca had shifted herself so she was rubbing the edge of the seat between her legs and getting off on it.

She opened her eyes and turned towards him. ‘Now you do it.’

Rebecca got hold of his hand and guided it between her legs. He had on his leather driving gloves and he began to pleasure her the way the seat had. She hadn’t wanted him to take them off; she liked the feel of the leather because it was like the car’s seat.

This was mad, he thought to himself. She was like something out of a Ballard novel he'd once read.

After he had worked her with his fingers, they made love in the back of the car. Then after that he drove her home without another word.

Casey saw Rebecca for a few weeks, it became a ritual, he would take her for a spin; speeding, almost ending in disaster as other traffic, bushes and hedges got in the way, and then they’d make love afterwards. She was as horny as hell when she'd got her speed fix.

One time she’d positioned herself above the gear stick, then used it as a dildo, while she got him to cup and fondle her breasts with his gloved hands.

On another occasion he got the car up to speed as usual, and Rebecca rested her head back, with her eyes closed as she usually did. Casey ignored the sun blinding him at some instances. He was eager to give Rebecca her fix so they could go back to his and fuck like rabbits; she would only sleep with him after one of their speed jaunts.

He turned the car round a corner and skidded almost out of control, a car was coming in the other direction. He swerved to avoid it as on that first day and left the road, heading down the incline of a sloping field. The tree seemed to come from nowhere, one minute it wasn’t there – the next minute his car had hit it head on.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked her, a few seconds after the car had come to its abrupt halt. She had her head leaned against the headrest as usual, eyes closed, she wasn't moving though. ‘Rebecca?’ He undid his belt.

She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead.

‘Oh thank God,’ Casey said.

Rebecca closed her eyes again. ‘That was the best,’ she said.

‘The best? I've crashed the fucking car!’ He gazed at the buckled hood of the car with steam pouring out. Then he looked back to his companion.

‘Make love to me,’ she said.

Some weeks later, when he'd got the car repaired, and he took her out on one of their usual drives, he had pulled up sharp for a cow standing in the middle of the road, Rebecca flew through the windscreen. She’d been rushed to hospital but had died moments after arriving.

He’d attended the funeral, met her parents. Of course her family blamed him for the accident, for after all, he’d been driving the car. They hadn’t been aware of her obsession with speed.

It was some time before he drove again. He took the same route he had done with Rebecca on so many occasions, and found himself unconsciously speeding.

She appeared beside him, she was semi-transparent; he could see right through her. ‘Go faster,’ she told him and giggled. ‘Faster' she breathed, ‘faster, faster!’ Rebecca became more visible until Casey could see her clearly. She leaned over to him and covered his eyes with her hands, still giggling as she did so.

When he'd finally managed to remove them he saw the lorry coming towards him, but it was too late to do anything.

She sat there laughing at him. ‘Poor Case,’ she uttered.

Sometime later, the lorry driver who’d been involved in the accident was stood talking to one of the two police officers that had arrived at the scene. Casey’s prone, lifeless body sat in the driver’s seat of his car, which had left the road and entered a field. ‘I can’t find the girl,’ said the other officer as he re-appeared from searching the field.

‘I could have sworn there was a girl in the passenger seat,’ the lorry driver said.

‘Well she didn’t just disappear into thin air did she sir?’

‘The strange thing was that as they came towards me, she was laughing her head off. He looked terrified as you would imagine, but she … she was laughing … laughing.

Copyright David Barton 2004

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