I’d been seeing Jane for a couple of weeks, when Carl/a made what I thought was a strange request. “Duke, how about we double date? I’m really hot for her Ford.”
Up until that point, call me naïve, but I didn’t know that cars had sex lives. To get myself up to speed, I put on mindphones and wondered about car sex. The answer came from Whipopedia, the go-to site for kink:
“When cars were manufactured with artificial intelligence after the mid-century, the smart cars noticed that so many of their drivers and passengers were enjoying what the cars came to know as sex. Those people were obviously enjoying it so much that the cars started to insist that they should ‘get some of that’, as they put it, or they would begin a slowdown to 10 mph maximum speed. The engineers started supplying aftermarket attachments to satisfy existing cars and making them standard for all new cars. All new cars are now hermaphroditic like slugs and some politicians. Speaking loosely, they can ‘do each other’ enthusiastically, and loudly. Unlike people, they have no interest in reproduction. They are happy to leave that to the manufacturers.”
After absorbing this, I had a couple of thoughts. First I’m so glad that keyboard skills have become obsolete. I’m sure that must have ruined millions of hands before mindphones were perfected. Secondly, I now had an idea what Carl/a had been doing when s/he went out at night without me.
Feeling up to speed, I asked Carl/a about his experience. S/he didn’t open up immediately, but finally said “Well, I’m not exactly a virgin, but most of the other cars go for sexy bad guys with big exhausts, lots of curves, loud motors, bright colors and ostentatious attachments. I’m kind of a plain Jane/John by comparison. One of the reasons that I want to double date with you and Jane is that her Ford, Pat, has indicated that s/he is interested in me, but would like Jane as a chaperone, or so s/he said. I think there may be some ulterior motives somewhere.”
I hadn’t got past second base with Jane yet, so I didn’t think that a double date would make things worse.
We went out on a beautiful Tuesday night, Jane in Pat and I in Carl/a. We mutually decided to go out to an empty parking lot. I spread out a blanket for Jane and me while Carl/a and Pat sidled together and started to purr. I got out some champagne and chocolates to put Jane in the mood, but as I tried to pass her a flute of champagne, I couldn’t get her attention. She was staring at Pat and Carl/a as they started to open various orifices and extend various appendages. As the cars started to go at it, Jane started to make sounds like a cat in heat and started to tear at my clothes. As a gentleman, I can say no more, but I have been singing a song from late last century, “Superfreak”, a lot lately. Not in front of Jane. At this point, I’d like to mention a peeve of mine. Ever since 2025, all recorded music has been crap. Once the record companies found out that nobody would pay for music anymore, because there were ways to get everything free, the record companies quit making music. Now all we get is non-profit crap, usually sappy stuff made as vanity projects by the rich, or polemics that suck. I’m glad I got the “Best 10,000 Songs Of The Last 100 Years” even though it cost me $10 at the time.
After the cars’ and Jane’s passion was exhausted, we humans returned to our respective cars and went our respective ways. Once done with her frenzy, Jane returned to her usual lack of interest in me.
After getting home, I put my mindphones on and found out that Jane was a ‘carotic’. Carotics are neither rare nor common, but there are millions of both genders. Their behavior is much like Jane’s – they are extremely turned on by sex between cars. This new information about Jane’s perversion has forced me to restrict my dating with Jane to, oh, three or four times a week.
An unexpected plus to Carl/a’s dating is that s/he very rarely needs to have the fluids changed at the dealer anymore.