**Story Time! Let's Have A Beer** This isn't a video post so..

**Story Time! Let's Have A Beer** This isn't a video post so feel free to skip right over it. I decided to post some true stories of pedal pumping and whatever pedal/foot related things are on my mind. If you're at all like me, you might be sitting here with a beer in your hand. I don't care about likes but maybe just this time let me know if you want me to continue posting this sort of thing. I won't waste time on it unless I know some of you are enjoying the content. Feel free to add your own stories or comments below! **My earliest Pedal Pumping memories...** In the early 80s when I was still little (maybe 7 years old?), we had a neighbor who would drive us kids to school. She was reasonably attractive, probably mid-30s, brunette and I seem to remember creamy white skin and sorta curvy thighs. You know, a good Midwestern momma. She often wore sandals or other open toe shoes and I remember her red painted toe nails. Her car was a brown 70s Ford Pinto, manual shift and looked exactly like these photos. (In fact, these photos are bringing back a flood of emotion!) I grew up in a place with fairly cold winters and 7am was the *pedal pumping hour*. You know, cold, in a hurry, 1st start of the day - the pedal was gonna get it! I'd be in the back seat with a clear view of the pedals. She would get in and before even turn the key once she pumped the gas rapidly to the floor about 4-6x. I can still hear the "woosh-THUMP-snap" sound that we all know and love. She cranks it over for a few seconds with her foot just resting on the gas. As soon as she stops another round of pumps - full leg bounce, stomping the pedal with her toes. She may have added a pump or two with each crank. The car would shake and shudder and the engine started to catch. At that point she would start pumping while cranking and the engine would start sputtering. She would give it a series of revs *Rum-Rum-Ruuuuummm RUUUUUMMMM!* I can remember it stalling and she'd let out a sigh or say "Not today!" or "Come on!". The entire time her left foot is mashed on the clutch holding it down. When she'd finally get it running, I had the pleasure of watching her drive manual and delighted in her shifting and footwork. Now even at that age I was a sexual being. I felt a range of emotions that I still get today even when I'm shooting videos. I'm excited of course but I also feel sort of bad for the car. The same way you might feel if you saw your friend or sibling get in trouble or spanked. Poor car, it's just trying to run and she keeps pounding that pedal. I didn't understand why she was doing it. It seemed cruel and unnecessary but exciting as well. The power of her foot to make that loud revving noise and feeling the shuddering engine vibrating the whole car. I distinctly remember waking up one morning and hearing her car cranking over and over and over. This went on for some time and then our phone rings. By this time I'm up getting ready for school when my mom says, "I'll have to take you to school today, Sandra is having car trouble and can't get it to start." My dad was sitting there buried in the newspaper with his coffee and remarks, "She probably just flooded it." I was once over at their house playing with her son. I found a pair of her worn pantyhose on the floor. While no one was around I sniffed the toe area. It smelled like leather, salty and lightly of vinegar. Heavenly! Oh yes, I've always had a foot and pedal pumping fetish... My folks were both pumpers too but it didn't do anything for me. Too creepy. My dad taught me to work on cars. We had to because we couldn't afford new cars and had to fix them ourselves. I wish I had some of those cars now because we had some real pumpers. I remember asking my dad, "What does flooded mean?" I'm picturing water. He explains very simply how a carburetor works and this leads to an early discussion about pedal pumping. "Why do you pump the gas to start the car?" My dad had no idea of my true interest but he explained cold starts and fuel/air mixtures. By the time I was a 15, I bought a 72' Dodge Dart Swinger that didn't run. I basically rebuilt it so that I had a ride as soon as I was able to get my drivers license. This knowledge of cars has proven invaluable to me over the years, especially when it comes to *gettin' girls pumpin' them pedals!* I have so many more stories so let me know if you want me to continue this series...