The Rental Car Pt 02

"Bye bye Paris", Mrs Stella texted. "Off to the sea! Do you remember these babies?"

Another Tarantino alike snap entered my phone whilst having breakfast, showing Mrs Stella's long legs on the dashboard with her feet covered in black glossy stiletto heels. The reflection of them in the windscreen revealed worn off red soles that indeed looked familiar. About a year ago in an apartment in Warsaw, I was nervously kneeling naked in the entrance hall with an envelop in my mouth, waiting as instructed. The sound of those very Louboutins clicking on the tiles was the first indication of her presence back then. Moments later she would appear in a stunning latex bodysuit and fiercely grab the envelop. She would point to her shoes with a finger, request to kiss them and crawl behind her to what she referred to as her fun room.

"Sure, how could I forget them?", I replied.

"Good memories huh! And it gets better, as Emily and I went shopping yesterday and we both splurged on a new pair. Would you be interested to refund my new shoes? I'll reward you with a minute-long memory of fucking with Emily in the rear of your car."

I almost choked on my coffee. Were they genuinely considering sex in my car or just messing around with me? And I'd have to pay a small fortune to witness it? I read that text over and over again, thinking of an appropriate answer. When I finally thought of a response, I noticed Mrs Stella was typing. A picture of a payment receipt came in, showing 895 EUR and "Miss Z Strap". It appeared she was not joking around after all.

"How about I chip in 115 EUR? Together with the 780 EUR rental fee you made me pay for the car, you got them basically for free?"

"Sure, send it to my Paypal."

Happy that we reached a reasonable compromise, I sent over the money and eagerly awaited the promised video. I pictured them making out in lingerie and eventually removing each other's bra and panties. Wait, would Mrs Stella ever show me her boobs? It seemed so unlikely that the woman who previously unleashed a whip on my back would suddenly open up for intimacy. Emily perhaps? I didn't know her at all, so it was perfectly possible she was the type of girl who gets off knowing someone is watching. Either way, I didn't hear from them again for hours now and it was already getting dark here.

After returning home from the grocery store with my bike - and cursing how inconvenient it is to carry heavier items such as drinks home without a car - I looked over to the lock screen on my phone and noticed two unread messages from Mrs Stella. The first one was a forwarded video of 6 minutes and 14 seconds. The second one read "So much fun! Rate from 1 to 10?" I left the groceries on the floor and rushed to play the video.

The camera angle showed a birds-eye view of the right rear seat with Emily in it. Fully dressed, she looked up in the lens as if she just mounted her phone on a headrest and started the recording. Next, she swung up her legs and positioned her knees on the leather. The same sneakers she wore at the airport were now pressed firmly against the right rear door. Soon after, Mrs Stella's legs appeared in the picture left and right of Emily. Mrs Stella moved her legs wide open, knees bent and the long and sharp heels of her expensive worn off shoes were casually resting on the delicate leather of my car. Emily bent over and disappeared largely out of sight while her ass covered in a tight jeans started to move prominently in front of the lens. After a while, the sound of Emily's movements was superseded with moans. Mrs Stella's leg muscles were flexing every now and then with the stilettos scratching up the leather in all directions. With the moans becoming more frequent, the pressure of the sharp heels on the leather intensified as well until the right shoe punctured through it. While the left heel kept on scratching the surface, the right one had sunk several centimeters in the seat's foam where it got stuck. Moments later I witnessed the left stiletto sinking in as well. The moaning went louder and louder and shaking bodies caused the heels to widen the puncture holes to the extent that the filling was now visible. The video was playing for over five minutes when it appeared that Mrs Stella was climaxing. She violently stretched her legs, causing the left heel to further rip open the seat before slamming in the door. The right heel seemed stuck and only sunk in a bit deeper. It went silent for a while until Mrs Stella slipped her foot from her right heel and pulled her legs away from the camera, complementing Emily with a "That was fucking great!". Emily's face appeared again, clearly satisfied, with her hand moving towards the lens and the video stopped.

"Why did you do that???", I wrote in a slight panic.

"Do what honey?", Mrs Stella answered fifty minutes later.

"Damage my car like that!"

"That little scratch on your seat?"

"Little???"

"Oh no worries, that little thingy is on the inside, we won't keep your deposit for that! Besides, you don't have children so no one would notice anyway. And we're more likely to include you in important decisions such as fucking with or without shoes on when you pay us FULL refunds. So, how hot was it for you from 1 to 10?"

"5..."

"Oops, should I moan louder or do you have other tips?"

"Just don't damage anything, please."

"We'll do our best, especially if you cover our shopping sprees (hint: my new babies are not yet fully covered). I'm sure you'll rate our next video with a 10!"