Ginny Weasley loved cars. Or rather, she was turned on by them. Perhaps it was the rumble or the vibration of the engine; magical devices were silent and had few if any moving parts. But she had ridden on Harry's motorbike and it never had the same effect. Flying or on the ground, the bike was too much like a broom.
No, likely it was the combination of the familiar and the forbidden. Her father had had a car when she was a child, but even then she had known that they weren't supposed to have one. The "shunk" of the door closing, the way her view was sliced into pieces by the windows, the protected, private space of the interior with its upholstery and mysterious dials, never failed to get her hot and bothered.
Draco Malfoy discovered this quite by accident. Dean Thomas, Muggle-born car hound, took Ginny out for a spin in his new car one afternoon before depositing her at Draco's flat. Ginny walked in the door, pulled her startled boyfriend directly into the bedroom, and didn't let him leave for hours.
The next day, a sleep-deprived Draco appeared at Dean's desk at the art museum, demanding a primer on automobiles.
Over the next few months Draco used nearly all of his spare time learning about cars and how other wizards had modified them. Eventually he located an exclusive, pricey automotive customizer in Germany that could adapt any model according to exact specifications. Draco quickly obtained a referral, submitted his request with all due Malfoy hauteur, and was pleased when his commission was accepted by the finicky "mechanic." When he arrived to pick up the car, he was gratified to see the man shocked at his youth.
He drove the car back to London from Essen, making sure all the features worked as promised. Draco was very sure that somewhere in Hell his father was snarling in disgust. But then, he had long since reckoned that Lucius had missed out on quite a bit of fun.
Soon after he got the car back to England, he and Ginny made plans to drive up to the lake house for a minibreak. Draco went to Ginny's flat expecting a warm welcome but all he received was a peck on the cheek.
"Where's your car?" Ginny asked impatiently.
Draco pulled back and stared in mock horror. "Is that all you want me for, my automobile?"
"And what if it is?"
"Then it's a good thing I got a nice one." He took her bag in one hand, her own hand in the other, and led her down the street, through the other end of Diagon Alley to the Muggle street beyond. Another block down was a narrow alley with several garbage bins and a Dumpster.
Ginny frowned. "Draco, where's your car?"
"I hate parking," he said, waving his wand carelessly at the Dumpster. It shimmered slightly, transfiguring into a vintage black convertible with chrome trim and a red leather interior.
Ginny gasped. "Oh, Draco, it's so pretty," she purred, stroking the door.
Draco placed her bag in the trunk. "Why don't you ever look at me like that?"
She smiled dreamily but didn't take her eyes from the car. "I do. But you're usually staring at my tits or something."
"Get in the car," he said, rolling his eyes. Top down, sunglasses on, they rolled out into the Thursday morning traffic. Once they were headed north on the M1, Draco pressed a button in the steering column, then looked over at his companion.
Ginny, clad in a short blue flowered sundress and sandals that she had already toed off, sat back in her seat. Her eyes were closed and her hair whipped about in the air behind her, glowing like fire in the sunshine. Her mouth was slightly open, as were her legs. One hand rested against her neck, the other across her stomach. Then she turned to him, opened her eyes, and smiled.
"You like?" he asked.
"Very much." She sat up, shifting her hips, and her dressed inched further up her legs. "Tell me about the features," she said huskily, eyeing the old-fashioned chrome-trimmed instrument panel.
"All right. This 1964 MGB Roadster has a 2-litre, 106 horsepower engine. The sound is dampened slightly but there are no vibration dampeners whatsoever."
"So I can feel," Ginny said, shifting her legs again.
Draco cleared his throat. "All the usual spells—drives itself, as long as it knows where it is headed, but can be driven manually as well, as you saw when we left London."
"I love to watch you work that gear shift."
"Good to know," Draco said, smiling slightly before continuing. "The convertible top is reinforced with a glamour, so that when the car is occupied and the top down, it appears to still have the top up, with tinted windows."
"No one can see into the car?" Ginny asked.
Draco shook his head.
"So I can do this," she said, unbuttoning the bodice of her sundress and pulling it open to expose her breasts, "and no one can see?"
Draco swallowed. "No one but me."
She smiled. "Good. Please continue."
He watched as she absent-mindedly stroked one breast, the nipple growing hard under her finger, then shook his head to clear it. "Er, the interior is leather, charmed to stay clean, supple and at a constant temperature."
Ginny put her hands up her skirt and pulled her panties off, sliding them down her legs onto the floor next to her sandals. Then she flicked the back of her dress up, so that nothing came between her skin and the seat, and leaned back against the headrest. "Ooh, yes, it's very nice against my skin. I can really feel that motor." She looked at him through half-closed eyes. "Can you feel it, too?"
"Yes," he breathed, staring at her as she wriggled on the seat.
Her eyes dropped from his face to his lap. "Yes you can," she said, smirking a little. "Would you like me to take care of that for you?"
"If you would." Draco picked up his wand from where it lay between the seats and whispered the safety spell.
Ginny then turned in her seat and quickly unbuttoned his trousers. She reached her left hand inside the open fly, pushing the fabric aside to pull out his semi-hard cock. She leaned over, avoiding the gear shift, and slid her mouth over the head of his cock. He gasped, pressing his head against the headrest. His gripped the side of the seat and lifted his hips, trying to thrust into her mouth, but she pushed him down firmly.
So Draco tried to relax into it, sinking back into the seat, watching the scenery, feeling the wind blow through his hair. He leaned back, looking up at the blue sky, as Ginny sucked his cock further and further down her throat, making little suckling noises and moans as she did so. Muggles in their ordinary cars zoomed past, seeing nothing, and Draco grinned to himself.
He looked down to see that Ginny had pulled her legs under her and was now kneeling on her seat, her head in his lap and her bottom in the air. Her skirt had hiked over her hips, revealing the pale, freckled skin of her arse to the sunshine. How could he resist? He ran his left hand along her spine and over the curve of her buttocks, caressing her soft skin. Everything felt slow and lazy. Ginny was taking her time with his cock, licking and sucking slowly, and Draco felt content and loved. It was good to be him.
Then he slid his fingers lower, between her legs, and felt how wet and warm she was. He stroked her and her legs widened, such as they could on the narrow seat. He slipped a wet thumb ever so slightly into her pussy and she moaned deeply. Then he pulled his hand away, sucking his wet fingers into his mouth and inhaling her scent, which woke him from his stupor.
His right hand had been absently running through her windswept hair, but now he tapped her, gently. She released his cock and looked up at him and smiled. "Fuck me?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
He nodded, then helped her to sit up and swing one leg over him, so that she was kneeling on the seat, straddling his legs, her hands on his shoulders. As her head was above the windshield, her hair was whipping crazily in the wind, and her sundress blew even further open. She slid her thighs along the side of the seat and he pushed forward, holding her by the waist. Then she bent her knees and slid down onto his cock.
Ginny threw her head back, moaning, and then started to move up and down, taking him deep inside her. She leaned down to kiss him, then moved atop him with abandon, her hair brushing against his cheeks. From where he sat, she looked like a maenad, silhouetted against the sky, her hair glowing in the sun. He had half a mind to remove the glamour so the other drivers could see what a picture she made. Then she kissed him again, and used her muscles to grab his cock, and he stopped thinking altogether.
He slid one hand down from her waist so that his thumb and forefinger could fondle her clit; he wanted to feel her orgasm all around him and he could tell that she was so close. He rubbed her hard, the way she liked it, and she squealed, throwing her head back and nearly hitting it on the top of the windshield.
She leaned forward, coming back to herself, feeling him still hard inside her, and she began to move again, faster, more rhythmically. She looked out over his shoulder at the other cars, at the landscape as it receded past them, and felt him tuck his head down against her chest and make a low growling sound. She sped up, moving even faster, and then he was calling out her name, and she could feel him come deep inside her.
She held him close as their breathing slowed. He tipped his head up and kissed her chin, then her lips, smiling against them. She pushed back and he helped her climb off him and slide down into her own seat.
She looked down at herself. Her dress was a wrinkled mess, the skirt around her waist and the unbuttoned bustier open wide. Looking in the side mirror, she saw her sunglasses slightly askew, her hair a wild mass of tangles. She looked thoroughly fucked, and this made her smile.
"Wow," Draco said. He was smiling at her, reaching out to hold her hand. Except for his flushed face, he didn't look nearly as disheveled. His hair wasn't all that messy, and he was still wearing all his clothes, which weren't even wrinkled. Ginny shook her head. How he managed that was well beyond her.
She sighed, settling down into the seat. "Draco?" she asked.
"Are we there yet?"