Tune-Up

“Hello, is anyone there?”

Bruce halted his wrench mid-crank as the sultry voice behind the question caught his attention. A slow morning at his auto repair shop just became a lot more interesting.

“Yeah, just a minute,” he called out. “I’ll be right there.”

The click-click-click of high heels alerted Bruce that his visitor wasn’t waiting; the oil change would have to wait instead. The clicks stopped next to his legs sticking out from the car. Bruce could see a pair of attention-grabbing sandals, with crimson painted toenails peeping at him. Oh, yeah, things were definitely getting more exciting by the minute.

The view improved as he rolled out. Trim ankles were attached to long legs worthy of any teenager’s wet dream. They appeared to go up forever until hidden from his view by a short skirt. His gaze continued upward past trim hips, narrow waist and breasts barely contained under a white cropped tee. Luscious red lips and dark sunglasses were framed by ash-blond hair. It was Claire Roberts.

“What’s up?” Bruce stood and wiped his oil-stained hands on a nearby shop towel.

“My car is making funny noises. Can you take a look at it?”

Classy and stylish Claire Roberts was as out of place in his shop as Paris Hilton at a garage sale. She turned, leaving Bruce to follow the sensual sway of her hips as she went outside. His hands itched to reach out and grab that intoxicating ass moving so gracefully in front of him.

Claire stopped by a Jaguar as sleek and sexy as the woman beside it. He asked Claire to start it up and popped the hood to listen.

“Just needs a tune-up is all. You should take it over to the Jaguar dealer. I don’t have the expertise for Jags.” Bruce slammed the hood down.

“Hmmm, what kind of tune-ups are you expert at?” Much to Bruce’s surprise, Claire arched an eyebrow and purred, “Maybe I need a tune-up more than my car.”

Bruce knew an invitation when he heard one. He backed her up against the Jag, pulled her close and kissed her cherry-red lips. When she parted her lips in response, he plundered her mouth with his tongue. Claire moaned in frustration as his mouth left hers and wandered down to her neck.  Bruce planted scorching kisses across her exposed collar bone and the scooped neckline of her tee. He couldn’t resist a quick stopover on the upper lobe of each breast. She arched her back in encouragement. He tweaked each nipple through her tee and felt them stiffen at once.

His hands crept underneath the cropped tee and found a new playground. He settled his palms on her lower rib cage with his thumbs tantalizingly close to the edge of her sheer lace bra. Claire arched her back again, soundlessly asked for more.  His work-calloused thumbs teased her breasts through the sheer fabric before he rolled each straining nipple between his thumb and finger.

Claire gasped and whimpered at his touch. “More…more,” she panted.

Bruce pulled up her tee, revealed her breasts and removed them from their lacy confinement. Claire’s breathing was shaky and unsteady as he lowered his head to nibble on one pebbled peak, then the other.

“Oh, god, yes – suck them.” Her hands grabbed his head and pulled him closer.

Bruce ground his groin against her to demonstrate the full extent of his arousal. He coaxed her legs apart and moved between them. The erection behind his jeans was rock hard against her softness.

He dropped his hands and inched her skirt up her hips, exposing a sheer thong that tantalized more than covered. His finger delved inside and found her wetness. He couldn’t resist a teasing probe. She writhed and moaned with pleasure. Bruce slipped a finger inside her. Claire was as hot on the inside as she was on the surface. His thumb massaged her engorged clit while her sheath pulsed and clutched at his invading finger.

Bruce moved back, urged Claire to turn around, step away from the Jaguar and bend over. The firm posterior that attracted him from the very beginning was open to his inspection. Claire wriggled her ass at him in seductive invitation. He prodded her legs further apart and dropped his jeans. His eager cock jutted forward, anticipated burying itself in the moist haven that beckoned. He leaned forward just enough to allow the smooth head to tease. Bruce tugged the ineffective thong out of the way and entered her steamy depth. She shuddered and whimpered.

“Brace yourself, babe,” he warned, before he withdrew and rammed himself deep. He waited until she started moving against him in wordless supplication. Bruce began pumping in earnest. Claire cried out and convulsed around him in seconds. A few more urgent thrusts and he followed suit.

As he caught his breath, he noticed dark marks on her hip and buttocks.  He turned her over. Similar blemishes marred the creamy whiteness of her breasts. He laughed.

“You’d better take a shower when you get home, babe. You have my finger prints all over you.”

“Don’t be late, honey. The kids are at your parents for the night.” Claire adjusted her clothing, kissed him and left.

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