The Breakdown

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Amateur

Washing the muck and grime from my hands, I was feeling pretty good about myself. A man had brought a car into the garage, saying his gearbox had gone to the shitter and he could get only two of the five gears. Having been given the job by my boss, I started working on it after lunch, convinced it would be a late one. However, Lady Luck was on my side and it turned out to be an easy fix. Tightening the last nut, I looked forward to getting down to the pub with my mates and drinking the first pint of the evening.As I walked out of the washroom, still drying my hands, headlights from a vehicle limping onto the forecourt illuminated the darkened garage. As it came to a halt outside the rolling door, an ominous shiver ran down my spine. It was a black Range Rover and from the unusual way it hung down at the back end, there was clearly something wrong. Not wanting to miss the first round, I walked to the access door, hoping I could bullshit my way out of this. When the Range Rover’s door opened, I called out, “We’re closed.” A statuesque woman, wearing a long leather coat and holding a clutch purse, stepped away from the vehicle and gave me a withering look. “Boy, I have a puncture, and it needs fixing.” Her haughty tone conveyed the fact she regularly issued orders and was used to having them obeyed. “How long will it take?”Her demands and use of the word ‘boy’ raised my hackles. London is awash with these type of women: late forties, wealthy, influential, successful businesswomen accustomed to getting their way and not caring who they tread on. The coat was open and it was apparent, even to my untrained eye, that her clothing budget was probably more than my boss earned in a year. I cursed under my breath and shook my head. Although in the abstract, she was the type of woman that fuelled my wanking sessions, in reality, I despised everything and anything she stood for with all my heart. “I’m sorry, we’re closed,” I repeated, my Irish lilt coming to the fore as it usually did when confronted by such intimidating women. “Now, listen, boy, I’m not in the mood to be trifled with.” Green eyes glinted venomously in the dark. “I need to get to the city tonight, so my car has to be repaired. Where’s your boss? I want to speak to him.””He’s not here; he’s gone home. He leaves early on a Friday and he won’t be coming back tonight,” I said a little too defiantly. “I don’t care, I want to speak to him right now.” If she’d stamped her foot, I would have laughed. As it was, I had trouble keeping a straight face. “Surely, you can call him,” she continued. “Do you know who I am?” I shook my head, not really caring either. But, I’d been brought up to respect women and, remembering my manners, I invited her inside. After giving me a look that could have frozen the sun, she stepped past me, telling me that I was going to regret my insolence. “Your boss’s wife…” she paused for effect, “is my sister.”Now that got my attention. Had I just put my foot in it? Pulling my cellphone out of my overalls, I found his mobile number and pressed the connect button. Then I thrust the device into the angry woman’s hand and said it was ringing. Wanting to get as far away from her as possible, I went to look at her car— a punctured tyre. On the face of it, a few minutes work.In the background, the phone conversation — what I could hear of it — wasn’t going the way either she or I expected. Whenever she tried explaining, my boss seemed to cut her off mid-sentence, and I watched this attractive woman become angrier and angrier. Then, to my horror, she gestured for me to move closer. With a heavy heart, I approached and felt some degree of surprise when she handed me the device. “He wants to talk to you,” she said and turned away to stare at her disabled automobile. “Liam, is that you?” asked my boss. “Okay, now listen, son: I don’t care what Cristine threatens you with, you’re my employee, not hers. Firstly, she has to ask nicely for your help. It’s a Friday night and you’re not on call…” I mumbled something conciliatory, but he interrupted me. “No, not Bostancı Escort even for her. Believe me; I know what a bitch she can be.” I heard a smug chuckle and cast a glance at Mr Carnegie’s sister-in-law. She was still staring out of the roller doors. “So, don’t let her bully you, Liam. Understand.” I nodded, even though my boss couldn’t see me. “Secondly, if — and I really mean if — you do agree to help her, make sure she pays in cash. No credit, no cheques, just cold hard cash… and she doesn’t get a receipt.” I nodded again. “And one last thing: if that bitch doesn’t agree to your terms, tell her she can kiss your ass, alright?” In the silence, I heard him laugh. I eventually found my voice. “Sir, I’m not trying to be facetious, but could you, like, send that in a text message? You know, as back up.” There was another hearty chuckle in my ear. “Coming right up,” my boss announced and broke the connection. God bless his soul. I turned to face Cristine and saw she was watching me intently. “So, what is it, boy? What do I have to do to get you to help me?” Her eyes blazed, and there was no doubting what she thought of me. “My name’s Liam, not boy,” I said politely just as my phone chirped. I held up a finger for her to wait as an envelope appeared on the screen. With my heart beating wildly, I opened the message and wanted to shout, “Thanks, boss.” He’d written everything he’d told me. “Here, read this,” I said, handing Cristine my phone. I watched as her eyes widened. Then she exploded. “That fucking cock sucking prick. Who the fuck does that bastard think he is?” I marvelled at such a posh voice delivering this earthy language and wondered how much more I would hear. “When I get my hands on that bastard, I’ll rip his fucking balls off.” Her shoulder-length ebony hair bobbed angrily, and her ample bosom heaved against her blouse as another string of expletives escaped her perfectly made-up lips. I was worrying that my phone might end up in pieces when her rage seemed to lose steam. She peered at me curiously, as if really noticing me for the first time that evening, while handing back my mobile. “So, Liam… George, my shithead brother-in-law, says I have to kiss your ass to get some help. Is he correct?” I shook my head. “Just say please,” I said, moving past her to gather some tools. My quietly spoken reply must have surprised her, maybe even disappointed her, because what I heard next almost made me blush. “That’s a shame,” she muttered, “it looks quite tasty.” Pretending not to hear her, I had to bite my lip to avoid laughing. I’d met Mrs Carnegie, Cristine’s sister, and knew she would never say anything like that. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Cristine’s gaze firmly fixed on my posterior.”So, what’s it going to cost me to get you to help this damsel in distress?” Her eyes twinkled and I decided to play it cool, even if she was playing fast and loose with the word damsel. Did I care? Not a bit. “Are we talking cash or in-kind?” I had trouble keeping a straight face.”I’ve only got credit cards with me,” she replied, waving a small piece of plastic while giving me a piercing stare and a wispy smile. Playing the game, I smiled politely and pointed to the sign hanging above the office door. CASH ONLY – NO CREDIT.Cristine gave the sign a cursory glance and returned her attention to me. Replacing the card in her clutch purse, she set it down on a stack of tyres before casually shrugging her coat off her shoulders. Expertly grabbing the heavy garment as it slid down her slender frame, Cristine tossed it nonchalantly on top of her purse and turned towards me again. Adopting a provocative stance: one leg bent at the knee, one hand resting on her hip, the other pressing a long delicate finger against her chin, Mr Carnegie’s sister-in-law studied me intently. I suddenly felt like helpless prey cornered by a hungry cougar.”You do know I’m good for the money, don’t you?” I nodded and again gestured to the sign, enjoying the banter. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t help you. My hands Bostancı Escort Bayan are tied. Mr Carnegie’s rules and I can’t go against them every time a beautiful woman demands help, can I?”Hearing my compliment, Cristine’s eyebrows arched suspiciously. I didn’t understand why. She may have been a bitch, but she was indeed attractive. Maybe she hadn’t had those words spoken to her in a long time, although I found that hard to believe. And even if she stood for everything I despised — I couldn’t lie. After running a hand through her hair, she produced a wry smile. “Well, young Liam, you certainly don’t mince your words, do you?” She walked toward me, her gaze never wavering. “Are there any cashpoints around here?” she asked, moving slowly towards me, her innocent expression accompanied by a sexy smirk. I stared at her. The mixed signals were confusing; until I realised it was all part of her game. I matched her smile, guessing she already knew the answer to that one. Unlike the nicer parts of town where I imagined Cristine usually inhabited, Mr Carnegie’s garage was in a less desirable location. Dirty, gritty streets, with dirty, run-down buildings, meant people only came here when they had to. While there used to be many factories here, exploiting cheap labour, time and technology have changed things. What were once thriving businesses have all disappeared, along with their jobs, and that remains are the abandoned buildings.  With unemployment rife, many inhabitants have turned to crime, but the police keep a low profile. Anyway, it all meant the nearest cash dispenser was too far away for a woman like Cristine to walk these streets in safety. Certainly not in four-inch heels.I shook my head as she approached. In a knee-length pencil skirt, her legs looked shapely and toned. Mentally undressing her, I imagined her walking toward me in expensive lingerie — and my cock thickened. Taller than me, even without her heels, was hugely attractive, and her lush hips and flat belly only increased her desirability. The expensive blouse did little to conceal the swell of her breasts, and I wondered what they looked like in the flesh. They weren’t huge, that was for sure, but neither were they tiny. More a delightful handful — or mouthful — and, if I wasn’t mistaken, there was no sag. Not bad for a woman who had long seen forty in the rearview mirror. Blood rushed south at the thought of getting to grips with them, and things became uncomfortable in my jeans. With her perfect makeup and beautiful dark hair, it was clear she took care of her appearance. Sexy without being slutty; hot and yet coolly aloof.Cristine continued coming toward me. “Then I guess I’ll just have to pay you in-kind, won’t I? Is there anything in particular, I can do for you?” she asked, arching her eyebrows and looking pointedly at my groin? Despite my desperation to keep it inconspicuous, I knew she could see my growing bulge. There wasn’t much I could do about it, especially with her standing right in front of me, her eyes sparkling mischievously and a musky perfume teasing my nose. Her lips brushed my ear. “Come on, Liam,” she whispered huskily, “I’m open to suggestions.”Then, without warning, she turned around and, looking over her shoulder, bent forward at the waist, resting her hands on her thighs. Then Cristine provocatively pushed her ass into me. Hypnotised by what she was doing, I was slow to react, and before I could move, my tormentor’s buttocks crushed against my groin. Feeling her press against my hard-on was heavenly, but Cristine didn’t stop there — she teasingly wiggled her ass against my bulge. “Careful what you wish for, M’Lady,” I growled. “You might not like the consequences.””Then again, I might,” she taunted, sliding a hand over the back of her tight skirt. Delicate fingers briefly came into contact with my swollen manhood, and I flinched at the touch, briefly wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into. I tried to readjust my trapped erection before it got too painful, as Cristine Escort Bostancı straightened and turned to face me, catching me in the act. She nodded approvingly at the outline of the long, thick sausage shape and sensually licked her top lip. In fact, judging by how long Cristine continued to stare, it seemed she was transfixed by what was on offer. Then, she reached out without a word, and after grabbing it firmly, she squeezed it.”Do I need to take care of your problem, Liam, before you take care of mine?” she asked, fingers digging into my swollen package. Although I’d enjoyed our flirting, I’d not intended to let things go this far and would have been content to fix the punctured tyre and allowing Cristine to continue her journey. Truthfully, I’d probably have done it for free; I’m that sort of guy. But, with her manipulating my erection, let’s just say my growing lust was overruling any noble intentions I’d previously entertained.  My initial observation about Cristine was definitely correct: she was a woman who knew how to get what she wanted.”I think that will be a perfectly satisfactory arrangement, Ma’am,” I managed to croak, dropping my tools and placing a hand on top of hers. Green eyes looked into mine, and eyebrows arched again when my cock throbbed beneath her touch. Even my heavy denim jeans failed to quell the heat radiating from my loins. Who will give in first? Then Cristine kissed me: quick, easy, soft, and divine. Before I could react, she pulled back her head and licked her bottom lip. She saw my shocked expression and it seemed to please her.”Hmmm, this could work,” she murmured and gave a curt nod of approval before resuming the kiss. Only this time, it was much more intrusive. Cristine flung her free arm around my neck, making escape impossible — not that I wanted to — and our lips meshed again, her tongue entwining with mine. Hard nipples pressed against my chest and her caresses of my bulge felt terrific. Such was the force of her onslaught, I stumbled backwards until my bum pressed against the workbench along the back wall. Although there was enough light spilling in from the street for me to see what Cristine was doing, there wasn’t enough for people to see what was happening inside the garage; thank God for that.As her tongue continued to duel with mine, I reached between us and tore at Cristine’s blouse, a couple of buttons flying off as the expensive garment ripped open. Cupping her lovely breasts, I congratulated myself on my assessment of their size and firmness. Cristine’s bra was a soft, delicate piece of blood-red lingerie, probably costing more than my month’s salary, and easing her tits free, I pinched her perky nipples. My confidence rose as I heard Cristine moan; unfortunately, before I could bite into them, my temptress took a step back, licking her lips as if she was preparing to devour me.”Stay right where you are,” Cristine ordered in a low, feral tone. “You’re mine now,” and she dropped to her haunches. With practised ease, this beautiful woman unfastened my large belt buckle and the button on my jeans before sliding down the zipper. Impatient now, she yanked down my jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. Although she’d been caressing it, Cristine gasped when my manhood sprang free. I might not be as sophisticated or worldly-wise as most of the men she probably deals with, but I do have a couple of redeeming features. And one of them was bobbing proudly in front of her face. Judging by her animated expression, she shared my opinion. My manhood is long and thick with gnarled veins crisscrossing most of its length, and right then, it was protruding splendidly from my nest of thick, black, wiry hair. I don’t know what pleased Cristine most, the length or the girth; either way, she seemed happy, very happy.Surprisingly, she touched it quite tentatively, wrapping her fingers gingerly around the flesh and gently pulling back my foreskin. Considering her behaviour to that point, it was not what I expected, and after she revealed my swollen dome in all its glory, I saw my pre-cum glistening in the sallow light. She studied it for a moment while I silently prayed for my forgiveness, and then her tongue flicked forward. The first exploratory licks almost drove me out of my mind and I gripped the workbench, hoping Cristine wasn’t the biggest prick teaser in the world. I needn’t have worried. 

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