She smiled and cranked up the volume. The speakers in her shitty old car buzzed, but she didn't care; she was enjoying the song. It had been a slow day at work, and she'd only just collected the car from the garage. She was going to have to find something else, she couldn't rely on this thing much longer. Never mind though, she was on the way home at last. Still.. that had been funny. The mechanic had been friendly. In fact, outright flirty. Or perhaps she was just hoping that'd been the case - it had been so bloody long since anyone had really given her a second glance that it was probably all in her head.
-
He tidied up, putting stuff back where it ought to be. Scrubbed his hands. Hunted for the keys.
Flicked off the lights, locked the door.
He smiled to himself. Bloody car was a wreck, but she wasn't bad at all. Straight from work, office dress and heels, and god, those tits.. She'd just smiled nervously when he'd made some crack about her long day at work. He wished he'd been a bit braver, or a bit bolder. There was something about her that made him think she wasn't all sweetness and light - maybe the way that the conservative office attire was offset with that plunging neckline. He imagined the weight of her tits in his hands. Running his thumbs over her nipples. Bending his head to suck on them.
He shook his head to clear it, and made for the car.
-
She was pretty sure it had been nothing. Must have been imagining it. But who cared? She had a damn good imagination! She'd imagined what was under those overalls... and she'd imagined a
ridiculous scenario of "oops, forgot the cash, how else can I pay?". In fact, once she'd seen a video clip where a couple of german mechanics had made creative use of a car ramp and assorted tools, making their little submissive girl scream
until they stuffed her panties in her mouth to keep her quiet.
She wriggled in the driver's seat thinking about that one. The idea of being exposed, helpless, vulnerable to someone who wanted her enough to simply take her - well, that got her going. She fantasised, imagining herself kneeling on a workshop floor, being told to remove her dress, being told to open wide.
It was getting hard to concentrate on driving. It was dark, and a miserable night - not throwing it down exactly, but grim enough to make for tough going, especially when distracted. She fidgeted, the seatbelt pressing on her tits. Everything seemed to be a bit over-sensitive. Fucking typical, really. Getting off on little things like that because the hidden, scarier bits of her brain dictated it. She'd managed to squash That Stuff down for a few years now, trying to be all
respectable. But every now and again her attention would wander, and she'd find herself watching the kind of porn that most people would turn away from, or reading stories of submission, reluctance, bondage... She'd tried. She was doing
really well at being normal. She *was*!
She fidgeted. She pushed the palm of one hand into her lap. Bit her lip.
--
He'd hit the dual carraigeway, wipers slashing the raindrops from the windscreen. He'd taken a customer's car as his ride home - it needed a test drive, an intermittent fault that the owner hadn't got the wits to describe was refusing to replicate itself.
Until now.
Ah, shit. Bloody thing lit up like a christmas tree, every warning light on the dash glowing.
---
She pulled off into a layby. A few metres away an HGV had drawn up, its cab illuminated from within. No one else around though. She left the headlights on - no one could see into her car, the traffic was too quick on the road to be watching, and the HGV driver was probably watching TV anyway. And if he caught a glimpse? Ah well. She rather liked the idea of that.
She dragged off her tights and knickers frantically, tossing the bundle into the footwell. Hitched up the skirt of her dress. Ran a finger up herself, spreading the lips of her pussy apart. She was frustrated to fuck - she wished she'd got one of her toys with her. It was damned hard to get any kind of result without a vibrator, but just maybe she might quell this urge until she got home. She spread wetness over her clit and groaned at the sensation. She rummaged in her handbag, in case there was anything in there she could misappropriate for the occasion. Ah. That might help..
She grabbed the small wooden hairbrush and pushed the curved handle slowly into herself. She sighed... the hardness somehow felt better than her own fingers. She moved it in and out, pinching her clit. Her breathing became heavier. Jesus - she was getting wetter than normal. She wondered if the lorry driver could see her... Nah. Even if he walked past, he wouldn't bother looking. The hairbrush handle seemed to touch a sensitive spot inside, and a small gush of warm fluid seeped between her thighs. Fucking hell, how did that happen? She wanted something more. She cast her eyes over the inside of the car, searching for something. Drinks bottle. Deodorant. Torch. Damnit, there had to be something. Her eyes lit on something that might just work. God, that's a filthy idea! She grabbed a wet wipe from her glovebox.
--
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Late home again.
The car seemed OK - no weird noises, wasn't struggling - but he pulled into the layby just in case.
Drew up behind someone else, killed the engine, and smacked his hands against the wheel. First things first, turn it off, turn it back on again. Sounds like a basic, but it might get him home again, and he could investigate more at work tomorrow than he could in the dark, here and now.
He flipped the ignition back on. The headlights lit up the car in front. It looked familiar... hang on, he'd been looking at that car earlier. He recognised the sticker on the rear window. That's *her* car, her.. the one with the slutty office dress! Oh great. Tonight gets better - probably a problem with the car, and he'd better go and check. He could see she was in there - there was movement inside the vehicle.
---
God, she must have been desperate. She couldn't quite believe her own nerve - there were cars flying past, and the lorry parked up too, and here she was, naked from the waist down, skirt hiked up, facing the wrong way on the front seats. She put one knee onto the passenger seat and straddled the centre console. She wriggled backwards a little and - ah, better.
She stroked her pussy. She was dripping wet. She lowered herself, the gear knob pushing gently at the entrance to her cunt. God, what a slut - so desperate for something to fill her up, she was reduced to fucking the gearstick in her car!
She gasped and pushed a little harder downwards. It slipped easily up into her with a gentle pop. Jesus christ. It wasn't small either! She let out a moan and rocked gently back and forth, working the thick knob further up herself.
She licked her fingers and flicked them over her clit. The sensation made her throw her head back - ah shit! Headlights!
Someone had parked up behind her car. Their lights streamed in through the rear windscreen. Oh well, all they would see was her silhouette... and she was enjoying herself too much to pay much mind.
She grabbed the little hairbrush again. This time she used the other side, and testingly, she spanked her own clit with the flat back of the brush. Wow. It stung, but it felt fantastic. She spanked harder.
--
Hm. No more engine lights. But he had better go and check on the girl with the tits. He did know her name but it didn't matter that much, just another customer. He leaned forward. What was she up to in there? He could see her head and shoulders moving. Rhythmically moving. Now, what do people pull over in laybys for? They might be broken down, or making a phone call, or both.. or they stop for a bathroom break. She wasn't doing any of those things.
He wondered if she was answering a different call of nature. The movements certainly suggested that. No, girls didn't do that sort of thing in public. Unless they liked an audience, and that sort of woman surely only existed in porn films. He laughed at himself. Stupid thought. He climbed out of the car and walked towards hers. The windows did look steamed up. He paused at the rear doors, tried to peek in. In the gleam of the dashboard lights, he saw.. her mouth, open. The curves of her thighs. Jesus fucking Christ. She was, too. She really was. She must have known she was being watched, she'd seen the headlights, and she hadn't stopped, which meant... What the hell did it mean? He acted on instinct alone.
--
She was working it, now, sliding up and down, the knob stretching her cunt open. Her pussy lips hung obscenely open. She was wantonly spanking her own clit, hard now, and moaning. She knew she wouldn't be far off, and the idea suprised her - it had been a while since she'd managed to bring herself off with her own hands, no need for batteries. She'd lost herself in the glow of the headlights and hadn't heard the gentle noise of the other car door closing.
Suddenly a fast movement and a noise made her look up - shitting hell! What the.. someone had opened the back doors and was looking down at her. Cold air rushed into the cabin making her nipples stiffen even more. Her mouth hung in a perfect, shocked "o".
"Don't stop on my account," said the figure. He slid onto the back seat and closed the door.
Caught! Oh god. How embarrassing. It wasn't like she could pretend to be doing something else. She froze. She had no idea what to do. A small voice in the back of her mind was laughing. "You wanted the audience! Now you've got one!" it cackled gleefully. Fucking hell.
"Um... I... Shit...". She was mortified. She couldn't meet his eyes.
"I can see what you were doing".
She looked up. Oh. Jesus. Christ.
No. No way. Not him.
