Jump to content

Pedal Pumping - Stories, Pictures, Experiences


Guest ilovepumps!

Recommended Posts

Guest ilovepumps!

Morning All! Apart from wearing high heels, I also like to make use of them in other areas. One of them is driving fast whilst wearing high heels. I like to do it and also love seeing women do it too. Ive loved seeing heels on the gas pedal ever since I was a kid ( I am in my 30s now). I just love the way when a woman pushes the gas pedal to the floor and make the engine scream for mercy, the way the speedo shoots up to triple figures and takes no time getting there. Anyway, for anyone interested in this same topic, I would love to hear your stories, experiences etc. Here is one of my own when I had a courtesy car from my car dealer :biggrin: ------------------------------------------------------------------ I use to drive a Vauxhall Astra and it is normally very difficult to get a courtesy car from them, as they always have some sort of excuse not to give you one. However, one time they had to keep my car for three days as they cannot figure out what the problem was? so, they gave me a Corsa. I think it was a little 1.2 jobby, so did not really have much go to it. Anyways, I have this thing with courtesy cars, I like to see how fast they can go (top speed), so whenever I get the chance to keep the car overnight, I know I can have some fun with it lol. I always go out pretty late in the evenings, as there are less cars on the DC so I dont keep getting held up. That evening came, so I decided to take the little Corsa out on the DC to see what it can do. Before I went out, I had to select what heels to wear for this job? I decided on a pair of light grey stilettos with a 3.5" heel and pointy toes. I choose heels depending on the accelerator layout of the car, as too high a heel, you cannot push the pedal all the way to the floor and you end up putting too much strain on your calfs hehe. I jumped into the little Corsa and headed for the DC. As I arrived to the slip road to enter the DC, I went through all the gears quickly and as soon as I hit the DC, into the final gear and mashed the pedal to the floor. Being a 1.2 the speed did not pick up very quickly, but the speedo was gradually going up and up and up. As the speedo was going up, I can hear the little engine scream for mercy, but I did not let up, just kept my foot down hard on the accelerator pedal LOL. The speedo reached about 90mph and began to slow down, but I wanted more, so I kept my foot down. Finally, it came to a halt at 98mph lol! after that, I just let up and drove slowly back home. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hope you all enjoyed my little experience and I hope some of you can share yours :rocker:

Link to comment
Share on other sites


The first time that I noticed heels on a woman was when I was late for a bus ride home and a young school teacher wearing red patend leather high heeled pumps drove me home. She had dark coffee colored hose on. I just staired at every move they made on the pedals. That was in 1968 and I can still see that image in my head as plain as day. That is when I started fantasizing and I haven't stopped.:rocker:
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest ilovepumps!

Thanks!! I hope to have more up sometime soon. Hopefully we will draw some interest in this topic, as I am sure there are more out their that have similar experiences to share.:wink:

I hope there will be more responses on this thread. :D

Link to comment
Share on other sites

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey, Great question Lynn, Well I guess you can tell from my screen name that I can definitely relate to this topic. As a matter of fact, This is what I enjoy most. It too started for me when I was 17. My girfriend was 23 and the kind of woman when she walked into a room, everyones heads turned and guys jaws hit the floor ;)The time being was the eighties, she liked the whole club scene, remember that? they called it clubbing..lol..she always teased her hair way up as it looked like an eighties hair band member. She also spent quite a bit of time in our bathroom before leaving putting on mascara and shiny red lipstick. She liked to wear loose fitting blouses and short skirts and took much pride in her high heels. Anyway, she always wore classic pump high heels and knew she was hot.!! She wore the 4'1/2" pumps to work all the time and was a maniac behind the wheel. She did not know how turned on I was as we always drove together to work, I would always peek out of the corner of my eye focusing on her aggressive right high heeled foot pushing down on the gas. I would always purposely stall and act like I forgot something before we would always leave. So it was more of a turn-on for me as she always got angry about the fact that I'm always running behind, and she would have to make up for loss time and floor it all the way to work. Late for something or not, she always had a heavy right foot while driving, and the fact that she always wore high heels was a plus. She'd always screetch and spin her right tire when making a right hand turn. She drove a powerful V-8 1975 Olds Mobile Cutlass Supreme with rear wheel drive. God, I love those old cars. I also loved when it snowed because it would make her spin even more. In the winter she wore these sexy white knee highed spiked high heel boots with a four inch heel as again, much to her liking. In the beginning at the time we first met, it was a winter, a snowstorm was dumping huge amounts of snow and covering all the roads. She had driven by to find me at the time and I was hanging at a popular intersection where me & my friends would bumper ride. So she knew how much I enjoyed doing that and on occasion, would ask if I would like to hang on the back of her car. Especially when my friends were not around at the time. we'd be out on a snowy night and just out of the clear blue she'd say " Ya wanna get out and hang on the back?" I would immediately get aroused and say "yea.....ok..." mmmm If she only knew how much this turned me on. Hanging on the back of her car, right behind her right tire where it would spin like mad and blow her exhaust on me from her hard driving. Just knowing the fact that she was making this all happen with her sexy high heeled boot was invigorating to say the least. She would drive hard and make the tires scream on the ice from the fresh nicely packed snow. At times she would sit there and spin in one spot and billows of smoke and rubber would start to appear. I'd hold on, and she'd try and shake me loose and constantly look in her mirrors to see if she was succeeding. This too would really turn me on.!! Big Time.!!! Her doing this all while smoking a Virginia Slim menthol {her brand} would just pop me right out of my pants on any recollection :wink: Sexy Smoking being another one of my favorite fetishes, but we'll keep it on topic and discuss the high heel thingy. She'd get the car stuck and I'd move around to the passengers side and look through the window at her stabbing & flooring the gas pedal while she smoked trying to free the car from its deep ruts.!! She'd continuously throw it in reverse and drive and floor it with everything she had. I loved the look of frustration on her face while this was happening as she would gaze over at me curious to what I was doing. I would get in her blind spot and lean my middle area up against her car as she would rock her back end from spinng tires in hopes to get free. I could peek through the top of the passengers side widow without her seeing me and watch her boot smash the gas time & time again. There's more and sorry if I was getting off topic, but I'm just too...a...a...LMAO...I be back later to finish after I finish..:D

THIS IS MY EXPERIENCE AND NOT A STORY.!!

So.....Where does my driving in high heels fetish begin to take off?

Just Respond to this so I can break it up a little and try not to babble.!! huh, little late for that.lol

.

Posted Image

.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest ilovepumps!

No problem for me, as I have many experiences to share. Love the clip. Are you trying to start that thing in the pumps in your avatar? I love those pumps:fine:

Thats not me in the clip (my foot is not that sexy lol). Its a clip of a pretty blond girl cranking her motor. I just converted it into a gif file.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
Guest ilovepumps!

After reading the last part, me thinks your motor is dead as a dodo lol. No bouncing will get you going again LOL

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 5 months later...

I was so sure the Yankees would win the 1960 World Series that, after one beer too many, I made a foolish bet with my college roommate. When the underdog Pirates stole the title with a 9th inning home run in the seventh game, I was obligated to appear at the fall formal dance dressed as a woman! I planned to "ham it up" with a comical outfit and combat boots, but a female friend convinced me I could have the last laugh by making a cameo appearance as a convincing "mystery woman" and revealing my identity later. At 5'7" and 135 pounds, I needed only a padded bra to fit perfectly into her long black sleeveless gown. The dress had a high collar, shoulder length white gloves covered my arms, and dark stockings disguised my shaved legs when the floor-length skirt swirled up. An expensive platinum blonde human-hair wig gave me a "Marilyn Monroe" look and my smooth complexion responded convincingly to a bit of make-up. As a competition springboard diver and gymnast, I was accustomed to moving on the balls of my feet, and my "coach" couldn't believe I could walk better than she could in strappy sandals with the latest style spike heels. I was ready! She even found me a suitably "girly" car for the 2 mile drive to the hotel, and on the big night I walked carefully across the parking lot to a pink and white two-tone 1955 Ford hardtop that looked good but was mechanically tired after almost 100,000 miles. As I slid behind the wheel and balanced my high heels unsteadily on the pedals my confidence wavered, and I wished I had brought flat shoes to drive like most women I knew. My grand entrance, however, depended on using the valet parking attendant under the main portico, and changing my shoes would ruin the whole effect. At least the car was an automatic, so I wouldn't have to worry about slipping off the clutch and stalling once I got it started. That was easier said than done, I was about to discover. I fumbled the key into the slot with my silky gloves and tried the starter as I planted my right heel at the base of the floor-hinged accelerator and pushed down. This was the last year Ford used 6-volt electrical systems and the little V8 cranked slowly with no sign of life. I stretched my ankle and pushed harder, unable to feel how much gas I was giving the car and surprised when my toe thumped against the floor. When it still wouldn't start I realized I would have to try pumping the gas pedal, something I had hoped to avoid while hobbled with high heels. With my sexy sandal positioned for the best possible leverage, I twisted the key, pointed my toe, rocked on the tip of my spike heel, and began to pump. The car sputtered weakly and resumed cranking. I gave the accelerator five or six hard pumps before I tried again and the car responded by sputtering and chugging several times before it choked and quit. Over and over it teased me with false starts, but it would backfire and stall because I couldn't "milk" the gas pedal gently enough to rev it up. My heel slipped and wobbled on the pedal, my ankle hurt from flexing, and I finally managed to get the car hopelessly flooded. I knew I would have a better chance of getting it started if I removed my shoe and pumped the gas barefoot, like I had seen my mother and aunt do on several occasions. However, I realized - to my surprise - that I was enjoying my first experience as a helpless "damsel in distress". I looked down at my slinky dress, glamorous gloves, and sexy shoes - an outfit more appropriate for the back of a limo than behind the wheel of balky old car. I felt a strange tingle of excitement followed by the unmistakable stirring of arousal and soon my silk panties were "flooded" just like the old Ford. I was hooked, and I knew this would not be the last time I would dress up in high heels to struggle with an old car that was stuck or stalled in a difficult situation.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

I finally got that flooded '55 Ford started after a pause to regain my composure and allow the excess fuel to evaporate. Traffic was light, allowing me to concentrate on my high-heeled footwork and drive to the dance with no problems. My appearance as a "lady of mystery" was actually an anticlimax; I paraded across the balcony, down the spiral staircase, and across the dance floor without tripping or having any close encounters. I don't think I fooled the valet parking attendant, but a generous tip in advance kept his mouth shut and ensured my car would be ready and running if a hasty exit was required. Eager to escape the attention of a couple who had come outside to smoke - or engage in some other mischief - I pulled the car into gear and stepped on the gas. My high-heeled pedal control still left something to be desired, and I stomped down so hard the car leaped forward and squealed the tires. When I lifted my foot the engine stumbled, and when I put it back down again much too abruptly the car backfired loud enough to wake the dead and stalled out. It rolled to a stop about fifty feet down the driveway as I gave the gas pedal one last futile pump. Now I had plenty of unwanted attention as half a dozen guys and girls came outside to investigate the noise. Frantically, I twisted the key with my white gloved hand but the Ford just cranked and cranked and cranked. I flexed my ankle and pointed my toe but those heels didn't give me enough leverage to floor the accelerator and clear the flooded engine. The crowd was walking in my direction when, in desperation, I pulled off my right shoe and flattened the gas pedal beneath my stockinged foot. They were about ten feet from the back bumper when the Ford erupted with a ragged roar that sent clouds of black smoke rolling up the driveway and into their faces. Without regard to abuse of the transmission and drive train, I slammed the car into gear and fishtailed into the street and around the corner. I began to laugh when I realized that my discarded right shoe had nearly bounced out the window when I threw it onto the seat; it would have been the 20th century equivalent of Cindarella losing her glass slipper. When we met for dinner the following day my roommate (who had been among those in the driveway) related the story of the mystery woman and asked, in jest, if that had been me. After swearing him to secrecy, I laid a photograph on the table. It showed me standing beside the pink and white Ford in my gown, gloves, and heels but without the wig and makeup. He was, probably for the only time in his life, absolutely speechless.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 5 weeks later...

I finally got that flooded '55 Ford started after a pause to regain my composure and allow the excess fuel to evaporate. Traffic was light, allowing me to concentrate on my high-heeled footwork and drive to the dance with no problems. My appearance as a "lady of mystery" was actually an anticlimax; I paraded across the balcony, down the spiral staircase, and across the dance floor without tripping or having any close encounters. I don't think I fooled the valet parking attendant, but a generous tip in advance kept his mouth shut and ensured my car would be ready and running if a hasty exit was required.

Eager to escape the attention of a couple who had come outside to smoke - or engage in some other mischief - I pulled the car into gear and stepped on the gas. My high-heeled pedal control still left something to be desired, and I stomped down so hard the car leaped forward and squealed the tires. When I lifted my foot the engine stumbled, and when I put it back down again much too abruptly the car backfired loud enough to wake the dead and stalled out. It rolled to a stop about fifty feet down the driveway as I gave the gas pedal one last futile pump.

Now I had plenty of unwanted attention as half a dozen guys and girls came outside to investigate the noise. Frantically, I twisted the key with my white gloved hand but the Ford just cranked and cranked and cranked. I flexed my ankle and pointed my toe but those heels didn't give me enough leverage to floor the accelerator and clear the flooded engine. The crowd was walking in my direction when, in desperation, I pulled off my right shoe and flattened the gas pedal beneath my stockinged foot.

They were about ten feet from the back bumper when the Ford erupted with a ragged roar that sent clouds of black smoke rolling up the driveway and into their faces. Without regard to abuse of the transmission and drive train, I slammed the car into gear and fishtailed into the street and around the corner. I began to laugh when I realized that my discarded right shoe had nearly bounced out the window when I threw it onto the seat; it would have been the 20th century equivalent of Cindarella losing her glass slipper.

When we met for dinner the following day my roommate (who had been among those in the driveway) related the story of the mystery woman and asked, in jest, if that had been me. After swearing him to secrecy, I laid a photograph on the table. It showed me standing beside the pink and white Ford in my gown, gloves, and heels but without the wig and makeup. He was, probably for the only time in his life, absolutely speechless.

Nice one, thanks 8)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

According to a BMW commercial I just watched, I'm not the only one who has difficulty driving in high heels. The scene opens with a well dressed woman removing a pair of beautiful black stiletto pumps from her briefcase. We next see her at a workbench operating a power saw as sparks fly in all directions. As she removes her safety glasses to inspect her work we see that she has sliced the heel completely off one shoe. As she walks to her car with a lopsided gait it is apparent that only the right shoe has been mutilated. The purpose is revealed in the final scene as she floors the accelerator of her new 3 series BMW with her homemade "flat" shoe. I've had my share of difficulties driving older cars with extreme heels (and loved every minute) but modern cars are so high-heel-friendly there is no excuse for such extreme measures. When I was an impressionable young boy in the 1950s car commercials frequently depicted women driving in high heeled shoes to emphasize the ease operation with then-new conveniences like power brakes and automatic transmissions. I'd love to know what thinking went into this new BMW commercial.....

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...
  • 4 years later...

Hi My name is Paga ; I am a french new member and I like specifically pedalpumping in high heels. Personnaly I sometimes used to drive my wife's car with high heels (although I am a man ) but my great pleasure is to see women in high heels pumping race cars or old stubborn cars, in reality or in video clips. In fact, this fetisch plesure began for me with my mother 40 years ago; she had a little italian Fiat 500 and as I was a little kid I was sitting on the back seat with a marvellous view on her feets: I remember with emotion the difficult starts of this stubborn car in darks winter mornings with the view on her hands and her feets; when she succeeded to start, I liked to see her driving this little noisy car and moreover I liked seeing her to pump the pedal in order not to stall when the engine was still cold; this car with difficult to start but after she never refused a lot of kilometer and the view on the high heels of my mother was marvellous ! Nowadays I appreciate a lot either women who are dificulties with they engine or in opposite women who drives with heels (any kind) their car with autority and precision. I like alos women who drives scooters with heels (which is not veru secure !). I look forward to exchange with you on these toppics Sincerely

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...

Hi Paga, welcome as a new member, like I am. Quite interesting to read your comment and pretty weird how the heel collections of our mothers can influence our thinking about all, donĀ“ t you think? I remember my Mom wearing really high-heeled pumps and slingbacks a lot of times when I was young. And she always refused to take them off while driving and pumping the pedal. Like you I could watch the whole show from the backseat. Sometimes she even had a hard time to avoid her foot sliding out of the shoe while pumping and driving. Quite memorable.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 months later...

Good morning thank you and excuse me for the delay for my answer ! Yes pesonnaly, I am very excited when I see a woman driving in high heels; moreover the modern cars have got pedals which permit high heels more than the old fashion. I am desappointed seeing working woman who put they heels at work and remove them for sport shoes to drive ; in france it begins like in the US ! With the modern easy car, the engine is not difficult (no more spluttering or hard cranking ), but at opposite I like women when they drive easily an with a chrirurgical precision with their stilletos .... Sincerely yann

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 11 months later...

Nice pics! I always drive in heels! Mostly 4.5" platform high heels and boots also. The only problem I get is there is always a hole in the floormat where the stiletto heel digs in. Other than that, its very easy to drive in heels. Clarissa.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I don't have to adjust the seat, but have to move the steering wheel up all the way. 5" heels are easy to drive in as flats! Just have to get used to it. Wearing heels is just a normal thing for me. I don't own any flat shoes.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using High Heel Place, you agree to our Terms of Use.