Your driving instructor is a real hard ass. You forget your blinker (again) and he slaps your knee (again). Your bare knee. His hand feels meaty and stern. On your knee, your shorts exposing most of your thigh, it communicates correction but also care. You sense he wants to see you do well, and he’s confident in his ability to train you. You find yourself wanting to please him but somehow, also, to be disciplined by him. You wonder why you waited this long to learn to drive. If you’d have known it could be this exciting in high school, you would have signed up. 

Your instructor’s name is Mr Hankey. He’s handsome. You can feel him eyeing you — evaluating your driving as well as the rest of you. Your naked thigh tingles, anticipating the next stinging touch.

At a stoplight, when you can take your eyes off the road, you look over at him and your eyes meet. He asks if you can handle the next challenge — driving while distracted. 

“You mean like with my phone? You taught me not to do that.”

“I’m thinking of something more distracting,” he says. “The light’s green.”

As you start to pull forward, his hand slaps your knee again.

“What did I do wrong?”

“Eyes on the road. Stay focused, no matter what.”

“Yes sir.”

After the slap, his hand hasn’t moved from your knee. Now it slides up your thigh and you stop breathing. You can’t focus. You only hope that it doesn’t stop until he touches you. When he finally reaches your crotch, you let out a little whine and smile. 

You expect Mr Hankey to rub you lightly, but he doesn’t. He presses deeper, lower. You spread your legs and realize he’s reaching for your ass. 

By now, you’re both ready to take your training to the next level. You desperately want an A in this class. Luckily, Mr Hankey knows an isolated place to park. But instead of reaching for you, Mr Hankey gets out and opens the trunk. When he comes back, he’s carrying an orange cone, like a traffic cone but smaller. 

“Take off your clothes and get in the back seat,” he says. “On all fours.”

For the rest of your session, Mr Hankey trains you, not in driving, but in riding — opening wide while he drives you harder than you ever thought possible. 

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