The office of Emre Özdemir was dark wood, leather and smelled faintly of sweet tobacco.
The big man was sitting at his large Mahogany desk in a leather office chair that creaked slightly as he turned to address his guest.
Mr. Oz was a large, fifty-two year-old man with a dark complexion and rugged good looks.
As a boy he had come with his parents from Turkey, and his father had slowly but surely built a small and successful repair business over the years.
Later, with Emre at the helm, it had become a very large, very successful business.
Years of managing the shop had left him a little overweight, but his broad shoulders and beefy arms helped balance it out. He had been a successful wrestler in college, a two-time heavyweight conference champ.
But his father had other plans for him, and running the family business put an end to it.
He looked across the scattered paperwork on his desk at the curvy, blonde, twenty-year old college girl standing there and felt a tingle in his crotch.
The top button of her blouse was undone, allowing a peek at her plump, round breasts straining against the material.
He thought for a moment he could see the outline of her nipples under the soft fabric.
The girl was lovely.
Her face, with the high cheekbones, pert nose and big blue eyes, framed by her blonde hair was familiar to him, but now at twenty years old, she seemed different.
Her father had been bringing his cars to Emre's shop for years for repair and maintenance, now she was doing the same.
She had put on weight at college, and her Rubenesque figure filled out her outfit in a most pleasing way.
The older man approved.
Emre drew his gaze back from her bosom and gestured for her to take a seat.
"Please, Miss Heather, sit. Cigarette?"
Emre knew that smoking was no longer fashionable, but he wanted to be polite. He very much wanted to have one, and to his surprise the young woman nodded. She took one of the mild Turkish blends from the ornate box he kept them in, and bent over his desk as he lit for her.
Again his gaze flitted to the busty girl's cleavage as she leaned in.
He watched her round, shapely ass move in the short skirt she was wearing as she moved to the large leather couch to sit.
"I'm sorry Miss Heather, the older cars can be expensive to fix. What can I do?" The swarthy older man said, his palms outstretched in a kind of shrug.
"Mr. Oz, five thousand dollars? I need my car for college, for work. My Mom and I don't have that kind of money." the young girl said, her big blue eyes pleading.
"There is little we can do. The transmission is no good, and even a used one will cost this much."
"Mr. Oz, I've been coming here for a long time, isn't there something I could do?"
Night was falling, and after a long day Heather had hoped to have some good news about the car.
The shop was now closed, the last mechanic rolling the overhead doors down and locking them before leaving. The large shop was dark and quiet, the only light was Mr. Oz's upstairs office where the two sat.
Emre looked at the twenty year old girl sitting across from him again. His heart was beating very fast.
Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, and as she leaned forward her low cut white blouse exposed more of her cleavage, a push-up bra accenting the round curves of her tits.
"Well, since you asked. There could be one thing."
"Mr. Oz, anything. You don't understand how important this is."
"If you do this one thing for me, then I can do something for you." he said in a serious tone.
The large, dark-complexioned older man leaned back, the leather chair creaking. He brought his hands together in thought. He sighed.
"It's been several years now since my wife left me. A lonely time. So, I spend all my time here, late into the night sometimes. Alone."
"I'm so sorry to hear that Mr. Oz."
Emre's wife had found out about an affair he was having with a much younger woman. He had met the twenty-five year old at an auto show in a nearby city, and spent a year traveling there weekly to meet his lover. Things had been bad with his wife for a long time, and he once went two years without sex. He later discovered his wife was fucking one of his young mechanics, so things ended peacefully. But lost his wife, his lover and nearly lost the shop.
"Please, call me Emre. " he said, smiling.
"You are an extremely beautiful woman, Heather. This has a power over men. You have it over me, you know. Do you understand what I mean?" he continued.
"I'm not sure." the young woman said, feigning naivety. She was beginning to understand what he meant.
"If you were to, let's say, be intimate with me, I would show my appreciation in a very large way."
The young college student began to understand what the older man was getting at. She had known the gregarious shop owner for years, and she had spent a lot of time in the shop with her father.
This was before her dad suddenly left her mother, leaving her to raise Heather alone.
Heather remembered "Mr. Oz" as kind and fair. She always had thought the large dusky man was exotic and interesting and had to admit she had flirted with him a bit.
Now he was a little heavier than those days, but so was she, her "freshman twenty" weight evident in her soft, round curves.
She thought about the long year that had passed since she had caught her college boyfriend cheating on her.
The thousands of dollars to repair her Jeep loomed in her mind.
Heather also remembered the day she brought the Jeep in, his large hand lingering on her back as he guided her to his office.
She recalled the tingle between her legs when the large man's hand slid down to the small of her back.
"If I ...have sex with you... you'll fix my car for me. For free."
Emre paused, weighing his next words.
"Yes. That would be the agreement. It would never leave this room, you have my word."
The voluptuous blonde girl sat back for a moment, lost in thought, arms crossed under her ample tits. She parted her lips as if to speak, then stopped.
"I'm very sorry if I've gone too far. I apologize for talking this way.. It's just, you are a very attractive woman..." Emre broke off in mid-sentence.
"No. It's alright. I'm very flattered. I like you, Emre, I always have. I think we can work this out." the young girl said.
He watched as Heather sat up straight, put out her cigarette and began to slowly unbutton her blouse, revealing the lacy bra underneath.
She continued until the shirt hung open, her tits cradled in the lacy B-cup Victoria's Secret bra, her blue eyes now serious.
"All repairs, with new parts." she demanded.
