Rockin' the Padded Cell

Do it in a Dodge!BY ????


Anonymous, 100 percent true, sexxxy van stories!!



“When I was about 14, I went down to spend the weekend in Torrance with my stoner friend Christine. Even though she and her friend were younger than me, they were really fast girls. Even then, I knew that 12 and 13 year olds who were having sex with guys was a little bit creepy. Anyway, when I was with them we were all about smoking pot, going to the beach, drinking Schnapps, buying feathered roach clips at the Old Towne Mall - all those good wholesome 1970s activities.


One morning, we went to the beach and spent the day. When it was time to go home, were really tired and didn’ t want to hike up the big hill into town or wait for the bus to bring us back to her apartment. One of them got the brilliant idea that we should hitchhike home. Three little stoned girls with our thumbs out. Perfect!!!


We waited about 5 minutes and then this blue van with a custom airbrushed paint job pulled up. Driving was a guy who looked like he coulda been a stand-in for one of the bearded guys in ZZ-Top - a creepy old (he was probably all of 30) dirty bearded biker dude. But nonetheless, we got inside and the two of them sat in the front with the guy to give him directions and I sat in back. We drove a few blocks and I was looking around the inside of the van - nice blue-grey shag carpet, wood paneling, stereo speakers.. and a big bowie knife securely nestled with the handle sticking out in the pouch on the door.


Outside I stayed cool and calm, but inside I was freaking. “This guy is going to rape or kill us!” I’ m sure my eyes were like saucers but I kept my mouth shut. I was hoping one of the girls would look back so I could point it out to her. Inside I was swearing to myself, “If I get out of this alive, I will never, never, NEVER hitchhike again.” The more we drove, the more freaked I was getting. I was scared shitless.


Well, after a 5 minute drive that felt like five hours, he dropped us off at Christine’ s apartment building and took off. After I got out, I practically kissed the ground. We were safe and sound. Now, in retrospect, I’ m sure he had the knife to protect himself or something, but at the moment I was sure it was put there to skin us and make us into teenage girl lampshades.


Well, I never did hitchike again - at least not until I was 19 and in England. Does that count?”



“Our story is about the time my girlfriend and I were “in the mood” but there were people at where she lived and someone at my house, so we couldn’t “do it” there. We left in my Ford van and rode around for a short while. It was getting dark and the City Park looked OK. A couple of other vehicles (cars) were around but not close by. Anyway, we get into the back and start the usual and we were mostly undressed with me on top and for some reason the van looked more lit up inside, I thought — did I leave some interior lights on? — since we were in a hurry to get in the back, but I looked out the double tinted windows of the rear doors and there’s this bright light. Oh crap! It was the Police. I quickly put on some clothing and poke, poke, stuff, stuff things where they should be. Finally I make it to the driver door and exit to find them standing there. I told them we were discussing some plans, they said uh-huh (didn’t believe me I guess) and they noticed we weren’t of teen-age and told me to go make plans somewhere else. They left and we were bummed out and left too and found a more secluded area. We laugh about it now.”



“So one time I’m sitting in my van and it’s in NY, midtown, somewhere around the 40s and me and my girlfriend at the time are you know, in the back, fucking away, and I start to feel this jarring sensation upon the van. So I kinda take a break and look up and it’s a guy trying to hook up a tow truck to my van, to tow it cause apparently we had parked in a towaway zone. I had to get out and talk to him, so I’m struggling to get my pants back on... He didn’t know that anyone was in the van and he was pretty shocked actually cause you know how they stand in front while they’re hooking it up? And so he’s looking through the front while I’m coming up with no pants on, you know, trying to get it all together, falling out the side door. it was amusing to say the least!”



“My buddie Tim used to have this old Dodge van. It was sweet. He was a good Irish boy, he had a picture of his grandma, a whole shrine to his grandma, on the dashboard of the van. He used to park in the tenderloin and he eventually quit locking the doors cause it would always get jacked open and the prostitutes would take tricks in there. I went to get in his van and he’s like, “Be careful sittin’ down dude,” cause the whole thing would always be littered wtih used rubbers.”



rugburn“There is nothing better than getting fucked really hard. And there is nothing worse than getting fucked really hard in the back of a van with no blanket, your bare ass being ground into the grimy, stained, grit-caked, scummy shag carpet below you. This is what I get for being into pleasure and pain and being so raging drunk I didn’t know where to draw the line. Oh well. It didn’t seem like a big deal until I looked in the mirror later and realized I had really fucked up this time. Three big silver dollar sized oozers down the middle of my spine, that were definately gonna scar. Hell yes. ( And to think I had asked to be on top when things got started — to which I gotten a muttered, “Just a minute”. Yeah right.) So I got to spend the next week in insane pain (mere words cannot describe the PAIN, no shit) cringing in fear everytime I sat down and had to lean back, got hugged, or saw someone looming towards me with what I was sure was gonna be a friendly slap on the back — “Nooooooooo!!” I will never look at a van shag carpet the same way again. OUCH!”



“My girlfriend and I both played and toured in a band together, and we had sex twice in the back of the van going from city to city. It was just a normal sized Dodge van, all the bands gear and the rest of the guys plus one roadie. To our knowledge, they didn’t know. Even now after 15 years, her and I talked about it recently, and found out it’s still a good sex memory for both of us.”



“We just recently got back from a two week southwest tour and it rocked! We drove in my 1973 Dodge with four bandmates. The van rocked! My story is about rockin’ vans rockin’ on the road. Sex in a moving vechicle, makin’ it in the streets. Or should I say getting our kicks on route 66?!! All of the above! One thing you learn when on tour with your band is how to cope with the endless lack of privacy. Well... much to my bands horror they found how un-shy I can be under such strained conditions. (Hey I’m doin’ my husband, only, o.k?! We’re in the band togther!) rock rockLuckily we didn’t have an accident the first time our band members in the front seats realized just what all the messin’ around up on the rack was... The first times we were bein’ real sneaky ’bout it so they woudn’t notice... which wasn’t too hard (no pun intended) considering the van is moving at 75 miles an hour with noisy wind blowing, tunes blaring (as loud as my crappy stereo can blast) and lots of yucca plants and other interesting desert scenery to be distracted by. (those boys never use the rearview mirror, tsk tsk!) Then we started to not take care to worry ’bout those fuckers, cause they seemed oblivious of us ballin’ away up there. They still didn’t have a clue. So we started to lust it up! Moaning and groaning till they finally took notice. Shit, were they bummed! Especially since they were in the middle of driving the van and they couln’t get out and my husband was in the middle bustin’ a fuckin’ nut! Holy crap. We thought it was funny. They thought it was gross.”



“Only story I have is when I was goth. I was invited by this charming creature out to the parking lot after a gig... In those days I had to stuff my painted face with any chemistry I could get my pagan claws on. I believe this nite consisted of Dose, cola, shrooms, and champagne. I was always amazed that no matter how embellished my senses became I was always “up” to run a little pressure thru the hose. Anyways, I follow this squid out to her wheels and of course it was a coach. Funny thing, I remember it being Frango-mint green with Michigan State decor too. I was “all ready” from the get go as she peeled away the black from my pale whilst forcing me down into the Captain’s Chair. I sunk deep, leaned back, breathed in and..... “what the fuck is that?!!’ Suddenly I was engulfed in the most god awful stench. It forced itself into every orifice of my being, and every hole I had. Perhaps it was the acid and the reclining of the chair, but all I could breathe was “Dentist Air.” Maybe the chair leanin back triggered a smell halucination, maybe it was an air freshner or some shit, but it was sensory overload. I got way paranoid and it smelt like I was in for the dentist. It choked the life right outta me and my stiffy. Something about that whole experience scarred me and I didn’t go out to the lot with any strange girls for a good two weeks.”



“My shitty little band at the time got an opening 20-minute slot on a huge sold out show in Tacoma. It was The Melvins, Nirvana, Machine, and us at the Crescent Ballroom. The building is still there, along with posters from that show. It was 1990 and there was a huge scene. It just felt like you could get away with anything. It was a unusually warm January evening. Not your normal soggy Northwest winter. This made for more than the usual parking lot crowd outside the back door of the club. I had just finished a nervous 20-minute set and as I walked out the backdoor, I grabbed my friend Lisa. Lisa was getting alot of attention that night. quoteShe was wearing a slutty little striped dress. When we got outside I headed straight to the van. Trying to avoid the attention of my buddies, friends and other parking lot riff-raff. As we get into the van I can hear the guys yelling shit at us. At the same time Lisa is asking me something like,“these windows are tinted so you can’t see in right?” I respond, “SURE!” That’s when I looked out the front window and realized people had kinda taken an interest in what we were doing. By this time me and Lisa had started to make out. I realized that the streetlights in the parking lot were shining in the front window. This was actually lighting up the inside of the van making easy for anyone on the outside to see what we were doing. By now there was no turning back. I had gotten Lisa out of her dress and the people outside the van were starting to go nuts. The next band had started so Lisa couldn’t hear them egging us on. Thank god that she didn’t raise her head and open her eyes before we were done. When we got out of the van, all these people started cheering!”



“1984, Gracedale Hall in Detroit Michigan, we were playing with um.. the Meatmen and Fang, and we played first. After we played I met this groupie girl and we were in the van making out and I was eating her out while she was sitting on the engine mount, you know, she was sitting on the warm engine cause it was cold in Michigan... the engine was hot. All my bandmates came running up to the van door during our sexual experience to get in to get guns cause a skinhead riot broke out. We looked outside and there was a complete riot going on while I was having sex. So that’s my punk rock sex story. And I wouldn’t let my band members in — they wanted to leave, to get outta the riot, but I wouldn’t let em in till I was done.”



quote“I’ve got a good one. this one is from the summer of ’96 when I was following the Unabombers of Pun on tour and I picked up a friend of mine from Tacoma and we were gonna go pick up his girlfriend. We picked up his girlfriend and we’re on the way down to L.A. and I had a bed in the back of the van. So I’m driving and they’re both in the back of the van and it was really windy on the way to L.A. so they made a mess on the way down. But the funny part is that when we got to L.A. it was like stop and go traffic and I kept slamming on the breaks and you’d hear, “Ow!“ cause he was getting a blowjob and she kept biting him! And then it happened on the way up too cause I was getting tired so I start swerving on the road, driving back from L.A. up to S.F. and I’m sure he had a swollen penis for a couple days, cause it sounded like he got bit a couple times. That’s the best one I got! It was in my parents van. An ’84 Dodge RAM.”



“We were on tour and we were coming back from New York City late at night going back to Jersey to spend the night. The girlfriend I was going out with at the time was passed out in the back of the van and my brother was teabaggin’ her (dropping his balls in her mouth). I looked up in the mirror and... he was rubbing his penis in her face, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw him doing it and I got pretty mad. I started hitting him and saying “What the fuck are you doing?!” I guess that’s brotherly love. The next day I wasn’t really that mad at him. She never knew.”



“This happened to my friend, she was on the way to Tahoe, this guy was driving and they were drunk off their asses, she’s giving this guy a blowjob while he’s driving, he’s like swerving out all over the road. So the cops pull ’em over and all the cops cared about is that they thought she was underage! So they wanted to check her ID... after they found out she was old enough, they’re like, all right, see you later.”



quote“We were in Los Angeles, and we were playing with Wayne Kramer. I was so drunk I said to my bandmate, “I gotta find a midget.” That’s my ultimate dream. Cause I’ve always wanted to do that. And we met this midget stripper girl and she was a nice lookin’ — well, she wasn’t that great a midget, more of a dwarf cause she was kinda chunky. I took here out to my van after the show... and I fucked her. I liked going down on her... but fucking her, it was weird. It’s funny cause you can’t really get between their legs...”



“I was in 9th grade, I was on the basketball team and we did conditioning and we had to do this big run and we were out in the middle of nowhere, like way out in the woods, and there was this bad dirt road with logs on it and we were all running along and we saw this van rocking! We were all like “WOAH!” And we ran up to it and looked in the windows and it was this guy that we went to school with, this total dirtbag and he was with these two like beat girls... really skinny, cracked out speed bitches, and he was rocking the van with both of them! He didn’t see us looking in, they were going nuts, the whole van was going crazy. There was probably like ten of us looking in all the different windows. It was the full on conversion van with the mini blinds and everything.”



“My brother was hitchhiking and this really old guy picks him up and they’re riding along he was trying to hitchhike from Oaklahoma to California and the old guy goes “Hey, how’d you like to hear a story?” and my brother goes “I guess that’d be OK,” the guy was really old, like 70 years old, and he goes “I got a good one. There’s this young fellow and he’s hitchhiking and this old guy picks him up and this old guy says “Heeey, how about a blowjob?” and that young guy says “Well, that sounds pretty good!” So that old fellow he licked him up and down like a ice-cream cone and that young boy he shot off like a rocket on the fourth of July! what do you think about that story?” and my brother goes “I think you better let me out of the van.””



“The Cheaterslicks had the Pussy Galore van — this thing had been through torment! It smelled like... old cum... like cigarettes... like old bong water and semen! But don’t mention this in your ’zine....”



“We played a show, and we unloaded all of our shit at our rehearsal space and then we were driving home, it was me and the bass player, the singer and his girlfriend. The singer and his girlfriend were in the back and there was a wall separating us you know? quoteSo I kinda turned around, you know as we’re getting towards their house and we see that our singer and his girlfriend are fucking in the back of the van! I really wanted to jump back there or whatever but our bass player was like, “I know what you’re thinking but just don’t do it,” right... “But here’s what we can do” and as we get up to a stop sign, he gets almost to the stop sign and slams on the brakes and we hear a big BAM! “Ahhhhhh!!” So he pulls over cause somebody sounds hurt. The singer gets out with his pants off and is chasing us with his belt, cause when we slammed on the brakes they were fucking and he was on top and they both slid forward and she hit her head on the wall so hard that she was bleeding!”



Back when I was going to college and working full time, I almost fell asleep driving home one morning from work. Naping in a sub-compact comfortably wasn’ t possible for me, so I reluctantly (at the time) decided to get a van.


My original plan was to get a used mini van and just throw a cot in the back, but my boss had a better idea. He had a extra long full size customized van, kind of a cross between a camper van and a show van interior wise, real nice looking. It had a real bed in the back, not a chair bed combo, and was real comfortable. It was his pride and joy and he hated to part with it. He needed to sell it quickly, but wanted to be able to buy it back later. He also wanted it to go to someone who would take GOOD care of it, so I got a great deal on a temporary ownership.


I used to belong to an association that one day requested volunteers for someone to represent the group for a national association event (500 miles away) on a weekend. I needed a short vacation badly, and said yes. The only other person to volunteer was a lady I barely knew, and she later asked if she could carpool with me. She offered to help drive, but was concerned about her car making the whole trip. The national association had lodging available nearby from a member that volunteered to put people up at his house. (Hotels there were VERY expensive if even available at all that weekend.) So the plan was leave on Friday afternoon, and arrive at the house sometime around 11pm.

My original idea was to take my subcompact car, but the custom van was roomier, more comfortable on a long drive, had a mini fridge, etc, much more “practical”. Despite this, I had self doubts about the decision, thinking about the gas cost difference, not knowing what was in store later.


All I knew about her was what a friend of mine, who worked for her, said when he found out we were carpooling together on this trip. He said I would regret it, that she was rather cold, stuck up, uptight, constantly complaining bitch. He thought she was bitter and hated men in general after her divorce. He said that I’d probably want to ditch her on the road after about 30 minutes, that it would be hell, etc. At the association meeting she seemed friendly, not flirty but cordial, but then I’ d never spent any time alone with her either.


Conversation wise we hit it off right away, talking to her was like talking to an old friend. She had a very infectious laugh and smile, and the drive didn’t seem as long as it really was with her along. Even though she could have lounged in the back when not driving, she stayed up front most of the time.


We were delayed getting to the house due to traffic jams from construction, accidents, etc. and were still a half hour away from the house at 2am. She suggested we stop and rest in the van until morning, then go to the event, instead of waking people up at the house. My curiosity soared until she said I could take the bed and she would use her sleeping bag on the floor. I told her she was my guest and I would take the floor.


quoteWhen she sat on the bed she patted the velour bedspread with the palm of her hand and asked me to sit down. She wanted me to point out some of the features in the back. When I turned on the rear stereo a romantic soul tune was on and I was slightly embarrassed. I didn’ t want to seem like I was coming on to her, didn’ t know if she wanted me to or not, and didn’ t want to offend her. Although I wasn’ t inexperienced I wasn’ t a player either. I had just turned the stereo off when she reached across me and turned it back on low. At some point later, when I was trying to think of something else to say, we looked straight at each other, and she slowly kissed me. I gave her a kiss in return, One thing lead to another, and it was incredible!


As I was holding her afterwards I asked her if she still wanted me to sleep on the floor, and laughing, she said, “you’d better not!”


That morning we drove on in to the event. At bedtime the house was littered with people, as the owner invited too many guests. When I told them they didn’t need to look for a spot for me, I would sleep in my van, they looked offended, like how can you possibly sleep in your vehicle? One of the hosts kids noticed that my new friend had arrived with me initially, and said “Are you gonna sleep in the van too?” This brought a few funny looks from people, and she laughed and said “No, I’m gonna sleep inside.”


Later on that night as I was laying on the bed reading for probably an hour, I was thinking “well, at least I had last night with her”. I was getting sleepy, and started to doze off when someone knocked on the door. My first thought was I hoped it wasn’t the cops telling me to move it, but when I looked out the window, it was her. As she got in she said “damn, I thought they’d never go to sleep”. Smiling, I asked her “I thought you said you didn’t want to sleep in the van” and she pushed me backwards on the bed. She sat on top of me, looked me straight in the eyes, and said “Hey, who said anything about sleep!”.


The next Monday by buddy asked me what the heck happened on the weekend. When I asked what he meant, he said his co-worker seemed different somehow, like in a better mood at work . I just said I thought maybe she enjoyed the event, or had fun just getting away from things for a weekend. He asked if she had met someone there, and I said I didn’t know. He eventually asked me if something had happened between us at the house we stayed at, and I swore nothing happened between us in that house at all!


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PICTURED ABOVE: Beth in her old Dodge van, illustration by Leon Chase.



Don’t Come Knockin’