Pony power: highlights of Top Gear erotica fan fiction

Hold on your Top Gear hair it’s going to be bumpy ride as we look at Top Gear erotic fan fiction. Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May are away…

This is from a work entitled Clutch:

Screen shot 2015-04-09 at 15.46.56

Vroom!

“At first he thought the taut muscles and slender hips belonged to a girl. But, aroused, he strode closer and recognised the unmistakable frame of his friend Jeremy.”

Vroom!

“There was a momentary pause of frisson, then both famous men began to furiously rain passionate, tongue-filled kisses on the other, as Clarkson battled to remove his Ralph Lauren dress shirt and trademark tight jeans.”

Extracts from Evaporated.

Screen shot 2015-04-09 at 15.44.36

Screen shot 2015-04-09 at 15.45.00

Vroom!

‘“You have completed me,” Hammond gasped to his co-host, his previously well-rendered hairstyle matted against his sweaty forehead.

“Come on mate,” Clarkson snapped back. “You sound like a girl. Just larks right? Like at school? That’s what these foreign jaunts are all about. What happens on tour, stays on tour.”’

Vroom!

‘“It’s not how it seems, May” Clarkson barked.

“That’s a shame,” James said casually, removing his trademark floral patterned shirt to the consternation of his co-hosts. “I wanted to show you why they call me Captain Slow.”’

Vroom!

‘Soon bodies were intertwining, the grown men not knowing where May ended and Hammond began.’

Vroom!

‘There was an audible gasp as The Stig revealed his true form.
“No, it’s impossible” May exclaimed.
“But you’re all…. You’re all cock,” Jeremy finally managed to say.
The Stig nodded his enormous phallus head.’

Vroom!

‘He produced the windscreen wiper ripped from a Volkswagen T30 TDI 174 Sportline and brandished it like some kind of makeshift riding crop. He brought it sharply against the naked flank of Richard Hammond.

“Agh!” He yelped, partly in pain but mainly in pleasure.’

Vroom!

‘“Bet this baby really throbs,” Hammond licked his lips and ran a small, girl-like hand over the expensive duvet cover.’

And for a longer read:

Eclipse

“Wow, I can’t believe it, our first road test in space,” Hammondsqueaked with excitement, as he floated near to the ceiling of the capsule. “Isn’t this amazing Clarkson?”
“That’s Commander Clarkson,” he barked. “You will show me the proper respect.”
“Sorry Commander,” The Hamster simpered, with the slightest trace of a smile on his lips and an urgency now in his groins.
“These spacesuits are very binding aren’t they?” Jeremy released with a glint in his eye. He pulled at the zip on his one-piece leather astronaut outfit. “Look how much sweat is glistening on my body.”
Hammond marvelled at his commander’s taut haired chest with pronounced muscles.
“Why don’t you taste it,” Jeremy Clarkson said.
“I…I don’t think I should.”
“Are you disobeying orders?” He snapped.
Hammond blinked his enormous, bushbaby type eyes, then approached his great mate.
“Uh-oh,” Said May as he drifted into the pod. “Remember these are very delicate instruments. And liquids have a tendency to float and clog in zero gravity.”
“Turn off the Lunar Communicator,” Clarkson shouted.
“Has the lack of atmosphere instilled in you some kind of space madness?” May demanded.
“NASA Control was very clear about…”
“Do it!” Jeremy shrieked, his anger rebounding around the sleek white walls of the module. He produced the windscreen wiper ripped from a Volkswagen T30 TDI 174 Sportline and brandished it like some kind of makeshift riding crop. He brought it sharply against the naked flank of Richard Hammond.
“Agh!” He yelped, partly in pain but mainly in pleasure.
“I guess in space, some people can hear you scream,” May quipped, revelling in the pain of his cohort and loosening his astronaut costume.