When I was 19 my father managed to scrape up enough money to buy me an old car. It was an old clunker and only cost $500 at the time. He had been off work due to health issues and was struggling financially, but he wanted me to have a car in order to get to my college classes and my part-time job. I think he felt bad that he couldn't afford to send me away to college.
I agreed to accept his charity with the intent to repay him over the next year. Well, that was the plan. I had no idea the costs involved in owning a car, especially an old clunker.
If my father knew what that car cost his daughter he would never have bought it for me.
It wasn't long before I got into a small accident. My old sturdy car was fine but I did misjudge a turn and did a bit of damage to another car.
Not knowing any better I notified the insurance company because that's what I thought insurance was for. I was later told by friends and even my father that it's always best to handle small claims without involving the insurance company.
After the claim was handled I talked to my agent who informed me I better be very careful and not get into another accident or any tickets.
I was a young driver with little experience, had a speeding ticket, plus I had already been in one accident. Basically, he said I had three strikes already, another incident and they would either pull my insurance or greatly increase my rates.
Yikes! Either way, I would lose my car.
So of course one evening I was driving and adjusting my radio when the car in front of me braked. I slammed on my breaks but it was too late.
"Shit. Shit. Shit" as I heard the sound of plastic shattering. "Oh, My God...NO..." This can't be happening.
There was just enough light from the street lamps to tell that the other driver was a man. As quickly as I realized this, I popped open two buttons on my top and pulled it tight to accentuate my young perky breasts. I didn't have much of a cleavage but they were perky.
Yes, it sounds silly but I was terrified of losing my car and I was desperate. It would hardly be the first time that a little flirting had turned a situation to my advantage.
The door opened on the other car, so I did the same. When a forty-something-aged man climbed out, I ticked off another point in my favor. His eyes homed in on my chest.
In an ever so sweet and timid voice, I said, "I am so sorry," as I approached in my skin-tight jeans and partly opened top.
I lifted a hand to my chest as I said it, drawing attention to my young cleavage. His eyes widened, so I assumed he was falling for my flirting.
A quick glance revealed only a broken taillight on his vehicle.
"Are you okay?"
"I guess," the man said and shrugged. He then reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
"You do have insurance, don't you?"
"Umm...Of course" I was stalling...
"It's such a little fender bender, though. Maybe we could just take care of it without the insurance hassle?" I said in a hopeful tone recalling what my father had told me.
He just looked at me and broke out into a smug smile.
"Maybe we can. I was pulling into my place here when you rear-ended me. Let's get out of the street. Pull in next to me."
Caught off-guard by him taking charge, I nodded and said, "Okay." He climbed back in his car, and I did the same.
As instructed, I pulled in next to him and shut off my car. He quickly exited his vehicle, and walked in front of mine, waving for me to follow.
I hesitated for a moment, feeling that things were spiraling out of control, but swallowed hard and got out of my car. The man unlocked his front door and waved for me to follow him inside.
"Why do we need to go inside? I can--" He cut me off with a raised hand.
"Look, sweetie. It's obvious you don't want this on your record, for whatever reason."
"I know you're trying to flirt your way out of this but unless you come inside and work this out I'm calling the cops to report this," That was that.
By the way, he was looking at me I knew exactly what he meant by, 'working this out.' I'd just been offered a choice there was no escaping from. Either I lose my insurance and subsequently my car, or I pay for my mistake somehow.
He wasn't beating around the bush. Though I was feeling shocked, indignant, and more than a little frightened, the thought popped into my head that he wasn't that bad-looking. Sure he could lose twenty pounds, update his wardrobe, and get a decent haircut. He was old so maybe a bit more flirting might work?
"What's it going to be, sweetie?" he asked while my chaotic thoughts swirled.
He gave me a few seconds, and then pulled out his phone.
"Okay," I blurted while gesturing for him to put the phone away. He let out a chuckle and stepped into the house. Tentatively, I followed. He closed the door behind me, and immediately said,
"Get those tits out."
My mind was racing and I was terrified, but what choice did I have. I slowly reached for the next button on my top. My hands were shaking. As I unhooked it, he lifted his eyebrows, and theatrically tapped his foot. Taking the cue, I quickly pulled my top over my head and dropped it on the floor. I then reached for the clasp of my bra. I thought let's get this over with, the faster the better. I unhooked my bra, slipped my arms out of the straps, and slowly bared my breasts to him.
"Not bad," he said.
"So...?" I asked, hopefully.
"So, keep going. Let's see that pussy, too."
"I... What do you want?" I was getting a bit annoyed.
He shrugged and said, "Okay, I'll give it to you straight up. I've never been with a woman that will let me try anal...You rear-ended me, so I'm going to rear-end you. Let me fuck that sweet ass, and we're square."
I gasped, and my butt cheeks instinctively clenched.
Though I was hardly an anal virgin, it wasn't something I did regularly, and I'd never done it with a complete stranger before. I didn't even know his name, and he didn't seem to care what mine was. As before, he gave me little time to think, and asked,
"So, what's it going to be?"
I gave a curt nod.
"Get your clothes off," he demanded and then whipped his own shirt over his head.
I found herself biting my lower lip when I saw his hairy chest. He was a typical middle-aged man with a potbelly and lots of hair...everywhere. I was being blackmailed and really didn't have much choice. I tried to convince myself that at least he wasn't some disgusting slob.
I lifted my right foot and slipped off my heel while he plopped down on the couch to take off his own shoes. I dispensed with my other heel, and then pulled down the zipper on my jeans.
By the time I pushed my jeans over my hips, he was standing to take off his jeans. I couldn't help my gasp when the denim slid down, revealing an eye-catching (and frightening, considering where he wanted to put it) bulge in his briefs.
