Of all the things I remember about the English guy I dated at college (and there’s a few), his love of the TV show East Enders is paramount. Twice a week, his phone was off the hook; twice a week, not a word could be spoken. No matter that the episodes we got through PBS were several years old in UK terms, and he’d already seen them the first time around. That show was sacred ground.
Which didn’t mean he couldn’t laugh at it. Or at the antics of its cast. The one example of which that I still recall was the leading actress who got busted by the cops for giving her partner head while they drove down the road.
Oh my god. What a stupid, stupid, stupid-ass thing to do.
Getting caught, that is. Giving head in a moving vehicle, on the other hand...
I draw myself up to my full (admittedly not spectacular, but I try) height, and adopt a very stern expression.
Giving head in a moving vehicle is not merely illegal. It is also dangerous, to you, to the driver, to other road users. What happens if he hits a bump or is involved in an accident while you’re down there? What happens if he loses control of the vehicle because you’re down there? What happens if you should suddenly choke, raise your head and knock his hand off the steering wheel? I’m not even taking all of these warnings seriously, and I can think of a dozen other reasons why this is one of the worst topics for an article I have ever come up with, and one of the worst things that anybody could ever dream of doing.
So how come so many of us have done it?
Some of us more than once?
Don’t look away. Don’t press the “back” button and go read a different story. I saw you. Or, at least, I can see it in your eyes. You know how you look when you’re feeling guilty about something, and you’re looking that way right now.
“We were just kids!” you reply. “It was his idea first.” The road was empty, there were no buildings for miles. The worst thing that could have happened, even if he had lost control, we’d have bumped off the highway and come to rest in an empty field. The only thing we could have hit would have been a cactus.
Or are those my excuses? I can’t remember. But ever since I wrote an article called The Years of Living Dangerously, and even more so after seeing the e-mails and comments that other readers sent me in response, roadhead (as the act is now referred to) has seldom strayed far from my thoughts.
Part of it, as I said in that past piece, is the sheer danger of the situation, a thrill that might encompass all of the above reasons but which is primarily geared to the fact that you know it’s wrong. Like any other sexual escapade that takes place under circumstances which you are aware are not appropriate, roadhead thrills by its very illicitness.
But there is more to it than that. The sensation of speed and movement, for a start. You know how it feels when you're traveling and you close your eyes, so your body senses the motion without any visual stimulus? Amplify that a dozen times and add sexual excitement to the cocktail. It's incredible. Apparently.
Okay, I’m going to err on the side of the law of averages here, and suggest that most of the people who have indulged in it did so because there really wasn’t any place else. Out for the evening, driving home to beat the curfew, but wanting something else to happen before you say “goodnight.” You don’t have time to pull over for even a couple of minutes, so you lean across, undo a few buttons and - whoa! Hello big boy!
A long road trip and you’re tired of talking. It’d be rude to open a magazine, and you’re too hopped up to just close your eyes and sleep. The radio’s playing static and the sun is in your face. “Okay, you keep driving and I’ll just...yum.”
Maybe you’ve done it every place else, and want to try somewhere new.
Maybe you just want to give him a treat.
A few things I...oops, I almost said “remember,” but that’s kind of self-incriminating. A few things I discovered from my researching into the subject. The bigger the car, the better the angle. Unless you want to be nursing a cricked neck for the rest of the journey, you need to be able to spread out a little, and take some of your weight on your arms or shoulder.
Automatics are better than stick - partly from the driver’s point of view, because it’s less for him to concentrate on, but also for your sake as well. One long hard thing sticking into you is fine. Another one jammed into your mid-rift, not so much.
A jacket or coat draped over your head is not going to fool anybody who happens to look inside the car while you’re doing the deed. Passing truck drivers, for example, will sound their horn, let out a loud cheer, and then slow down enough that they can remain alongside you for as long as it takes. Although raising your head and giving them a smile does seem to brighten their day even further.
And finally, get off the highway and onto a side street. Bumpy roads are the best! But please don’t be greedy. No matter how experienced you may be in the bedroom, we are still working with some very precise angles and measurements here, and it only takes a tiny pothole to transform deep throat into a total tonsillectomy. The same thing when he cums, and I am not going to go into greater detail than that. Aside from saying, apropos of bumps and potholes, you will get a cockhead in the eye at least once before you’re finished.
Or so I’ve heard, she wrote innocently.
So here we are, not doing anything in a place where we know not to do it, when all our worst nightmares come piling in around us, and a cop pulls us over and he walks up to the driver’s side.
“Could you tell me what’s going on, please?” he asks, although you can bet he got a good look before he ever put on his siren. To which we invoke the East Enders defense, and hope it works better for us than it did for her.
According to a newspaper article published at the time, “When [her husband] suffered an attack of pancreatitis...he [undid] undone his trousers to ease the pain and she was leaning towards him in concern when Constable Terence Talbot arrived and misconstrued the situation.”
Such an easy mistake to make, I’m sure.
So also make sure you’ve wiped your mouth.
Which didn’t mean he couldn’t laugh at it. Or at the antics of its cast. The one example of which that I still recall was the leading actress who got busted by the cops for giving her partner head while they drove down the road.
Oh my god. What a stupid, stupid, stupid-ass thing to do.
Getting caught, that is. Giving head in a moving vehicle, on the other hand...
I draw myself up to my full (admittedly not spectacular, but I try) height, and adopt a very stern expression.
Giving head in a moving vehicle is not merely illegal. It is also dangerous, to you, to the driver, to other road users. What happens if he hits a bump or is involved in an accident while you’re down there? What happens if he loses control of the vehicle because you’re down there? What happens if you should suddenly choke, raise your head and knock his hand off the steering wheel? I’m not even taking all of these warnings seriously, and I can think of a dozen other reasons why this is one of the worst topics for an article I have ever come up with, and one of the worst things that anybody could ever dream of doing.
So how come so many of us have done it?
Some of us more than once?
Don’t look away. Don’t press the “back” button and go read a different story. I saw you. Or, at least, I can see it in your eyes. You know how you look when you’re feeling guilty about something, and you’re looking that way right now.
“We were just kids!” you reply. “It was his idea first.” The road was empty, there were no buildings for miles. The worst thing that could have happened, even if he had lost control, we’d have bumped off the highway and come to rest in an empty field. The only thing we could have hit would have been a cactus.
Or are those my excuses? I can’t remember. But ever since I wrote an article called The Years of Living Dangerously, and even more so after seeing the e-mails and comments that other readers sent me in response, roadhead (as the act is now referred to) has seldom strayed far from my thoughts.
Part of it, as I said in that past piece, is the sheer danger of the situation, a thrill that might encompass all of the above reasons but which is primarily geared to the fact that you know it’s wrong. Like any other sexual escapade that takes place under circumstances which you are aware are not appropriate, roadhead thrills by its very illicitness.
But there is more to it than that. The sensation of speed and movement, for a start. You know how it feels when you're traveling and you close your eyes, so your body senses the motion without any visual stimulus? Amplify that a dozen times and add sexual excitement to the cocktail. It's incredible. Apparently.
Okay, I’m going to err on the side of the law of averages here, and suggest that most of the people who have indulged in it did so because there really wasn’t any place else. Out for the evening, driving home to beat the curfew, but wanting something else to happen before you say “goodnight.” You don’t have time to pull over for even a couple of minutes, so you lean across, undo a few buttons and - whoa! Hello big boy!
A long road trip and you’re tired of talking. It’d be rude to open a magazine, and you’re too hopped up to just close your eyes and sleep. The radio’s playing static and the sun is in your face. “Okay, you keep driving and I’ll just...yum.”
Maybe you’ve done it every place else, and want to try somewhere new.
Maybe you just want to give him a treat.
A few things I...oops, I almost said “remember,” but that’s kind of self-incriminating. A few things I discovered from my researching into the subject. The bigger the car, the better the angle. Unless you want to be nursing a cricked neck for the rest of the journey, you need to be able to spread out a little, and take some of your weight on your arms or shoulder.
Automatics are better than stick - partly from the driver’s point of view, because it’s less for him to concentrate on, but also for your sake as well. One long hard thing sticking into you is fine. Another one jammed into your mid-rift, not so much.
A jacket or coat draped over your head is not going to fool anybody who happens to look inside the car while you’re doing the deed. Passing truck drivers, for example, will sound their horn, let out a loud cheer, and then slow down enough that they can remain alongside you for as long as it takes. Although raising your head and giving them a smile does seem to brighten their day even further.
And finally, get off the highway and onto a side street. Bumpy roads are the best! But please don’t be greedy. No matter how experienced you may be in the bedroom, we are still working with some very precise angles and measurements here, and it only takes a tiny pothole to transform deep throat into a total tonsillectomy. The same thing when he cums, and I am not going to go into greater detail than that. Aside from saying, apropos of bumps and potholes, you will get a cockhead in the eye at least once before you’re finished.
Or so I’ve heard, she wrote innocently.
So here we are, not doing anything in a place where we know not to do it, when all our worst nightmares come piling in around us, and a cop pulls us over and he walks up to the driver’s side.
“Could you tell me what’s going on, please?” he asks, although you can bet he got a good look before he ever put on his siren. To which we invoke the East Enders defense, and hope it works better for us than it did for her.
According to a newspaper article published at the time, “When [her husband] suffered an attack of pancreatitis...he [undid] undone his trousers to ease the pain and she was leaning towards him in concern when Constable Terence Talbot arrived and misconstrued the situation.”
Such an easy mistake to make, I’m sure.
So also make sure you’ve wiped your mouth.
You should read "The World According to Garp" this is touched upon in the book and the catastrophic results of what happened to the poor guy.
It was Garp! I knew I'd read about this somewhere, long long LONG ago... it might even have been the first time I ever heard of such a thing. But I could not for the life of me remember where. Thank you!!!