I kick open the door to the service center and shout into the empty garage, “I want to see the general manager!” He steps out of his office and smiles at me, because this whole time I have been sexting my mechanic. But it quickly fades as I stomp toward him in my rain-soaked shoes.
He says, “I guess this isn’t a personal visit.”
Fuck no, it isn’t.
Sure, he gave me his number when I dropped off my Model 3. And we’ve texted. He has a cute butt, and I told him that one night after one (or three) too many glasses of Sparkletini. Sparkletini makes me flirty.
He told me that he could tell I wasn’t wearing a bra when we first met, and that got him hard. I started riding my bike to work—because, no car—and during my commute, I also started grinding against my bike seat while imagining him jerking off behind his desk. I couldn’t believe I was sexting my mechanic.
Si I texted him about my bike rides. He sent me a dick pic, so then my commutes featured fantasies of me sucking it in the backseat of my car.
I ignored it until I was alone in the bathroom when I opened the recording of him laying on his bed while gently stroking his cock. I had to shove in my earbuds so his soft moans didn’t echo through the bathroom.
My pussy pulsed from what he typed in his message:
“My day off. Thinking of you.”
Another woman walked into the stall next to me, but I didn’t hesitate to pull down my pants and record myself rubbing my clit. I held my whine in my throat, but the recording still picked up my heavy breaths.
He responded with a recording of himself coming. A stream of cum shot from his dick onto his bedspread.
We continued sexting at all hours of the day. He sent me a photo of him shirtless with a cup of coffee one morning. I sent him a recording of me sexily playing in a bubble bath one night.
It was a lot of fun. I loved sexting my mechanic. Until the rainy season started and I had to bike to work. An entire rainy month went by, and I still didn’t have my car. I repeatedly asked him why I couldn’t pick it up, but he only said it “wasn’t ready.”
Tonight, it’s pouring, my bike was stolen, the Uber was late, and I’ve lost all my patience for him and his cute butt. So I shove him back into his office. “I want my fucking car.” He falls into his stupid office plant.
“I told you,” he says from the floor. “It’s not ready.”
I throw up my hands. “It shouldn’t take five weeks to fix it!”
“We’re waiting for parts from the manufacturer. There’s nothing I can do!”
“So, what are you saying? I bought a car you can’t fix?” My frustration builds even though I have been sexting my mechanic.
Then he gives me a bullshit general manager’s response. “We can technically fix it. Just not yet.”
Fury and frustration take over me. I grab his crisp shirt collar with my dirty wet hands and ram him against the wall.
He stares at me, chest heaving and eyes wide with fear. I want to threaten him. I want to beat the shit out of him. But now that we’re so close, after all of those nasty, naughty things we did with our smartphones…
All of our feelings rush out of us into an urgent kiss. I grab his hair, and he squeezes my ass while our mouths ravage each other like starving beasts.
Then I peel off my shirt and rip off his—buttons flying and everything. I wiggle out of my soaked jeans and my underwear just after he unzips his pants. I can’t wait any longer, so I shove him onto his desk. Then I take his hard dick out from his boxer briefs and slide it inside me. Finally from sexting my mechanic to full-on fucking.
We shout out, and the noise echoes in the empty garage. And I ride him hard and fast. Heat swells in my body while I grind against him. He groans, curses, and grips me by my waist. My head falls back, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. I fuck him harder than I’ve ever fucked anyone with the stamina I built from riding my bike.
So he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me toward him. He growls, “I want you to come on my dick.”
Then I manically laugh. “Make me come, you piece of shit.”
In a flash, he presses his fingers on my clit. I cry out and convulse in his lap, even as he twitches and comes inside of me. He holds me while I shake. Once I finally calm down, we rest in silence with our foreheads touched together.
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