I was in a wicked rut. I'd been working 11-hour days for weeks. Although I was no longer working weekends, I wasn't feeling refreshed on Sunday nights. I wanted something new, something fun and different. And God knew I wanted to get laid. I was wound as tightly as a coil and I needed some release. So I started planning. I picked a weekend in mid-May and bought tickets to the Rangers slumber party.
I didn't know if it would be a better idea to ask him in advance or wait till the last minute. There was always a chance that if I waited, he'd be scheduled to work, but Nathan never committed to anything in the future. I went back and forth, an inner battle with myself, until the Wednesday before, when some higher power intervened.
I was driving home from my mother's house; we'd just finished dinner. My car made a high-pitched squealing noise followed by a grinding that set my teeth on edge, and then smoke started seeping out of the hood. Miraculously my car kept moving, and I pulled into the nearest garage. I walked inside and there he was. I was so surprised I couldn't speak, but not so surprised I didn't observe he couldn't either.
Another man entered the little lobby and tossed a set of keys on the counter. "Done," he said, and then turned to me. "How can we help you?" he asked, failing to take notice of Nathan.
"I, um, my car..." I started, pointing stupidly behind me.
When he smiled, he looked just like Nathan, and I took this to be his brother. "Want me to take a look?"
I smiled back, my nerves settling. "Yes, please." I handed him my keys. "The silver Rogue," I informed him.
He jingled my keys and disappeared. I looked at Nathan, keen to make him know this was not on purpose. But he was smiling now, and I breathed easier. "Welcome to my shop," he said, and gestured around the small room. His eyes traveled down my legs and immediately heat flooded my body and I was thankful for the short denim shorts I was wearing despite my mom's hatred for them. "You look good," he added.
I cocked my head at him. "Thank you. It's been a while."
There wasn't preamble with us; never a need. He came around the counter finally, and I hugged him. "It's good to see you," I whispered. When his hands ran down my spine, I shivered, and when they settled on my ass, I flushed all over.
"Likewise," he breathed into my ear.
He backed away just as his brother came back inside. "Your oil is completely out," he said. "When was the last time you had it changed?"
I blushed. "A while ago," I answered, glancing embarrassedly at Nathan.
"I'll take care of it. Shouldn't take long. A half hour maybe?"
I looked at Nathan again. "Fine," I said.
Suddenly his brother smirked. "I'm sure it is," he said. "There's water in the fridge if you want some. Nate, take care of our guest, okay?"
Nathan smiled. "Sure, bro."
When his brother had gone back outside, I turned to Nathan. "How exactly do you plan to do that?" I asked coyly.
"I can think of a few ways," he replied.
Despite his words, he simply offered me a water from the small fridge on top of the counter. I accepted it and asked to see the rest of the shop. There wasn't much to it, but the desk tucked away in its own little room seemed to be begging to be christened. When I saw it, I tilted my head back until I was looking at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and stared at the fan for a minute. "Is it crazy that I want to fuck you on that desk?" I finally asked, unable to look at him.
I was met with silence, and for a long minute I believed he'd left the room. But then he had his hands on my hips. "I just think it's crazy that you want to fuck me. Location has nothing to do with it."
I was struck by the vulnerability of his words, and I was at a loss whether to kiss him or to tell him why I enjoyed him so much. But it became clear that the way to tell him was to kiss him, and I killed two birds with one stone. He didn't immediately relent, which was so hot it made me squirm, but soon his lips parted and his tongue met mine.
His hands were the first to move, and he slid his fingers along my thighs, under the hem of my shorts. They were so short I felt his fingers nearing my pussy within seconds, and I moaned immediately. He responded by biting my lip. "Quiet," he instructed. "We don't want the guys to hear."
I moaned again, though quieter. "Don't we?" I asked, and then I felt for his belt buckle. I caressed the small mound there and undid his pants. Then slowly I pushed him backward, until he was flush with the desk chair. "Sit," I said. He did, and I kneeled in front of him, unconscious of the dirty floor. I scooted behind the desk, just in case someone did walk in; public sex being hot aside, I didn't want him to get fired.
His boxers were straining, but not nearly as much as I wanted them to be. Leaving his jeans around his hips, I v-ed them open as much as I could. Without exposing his dick, I kneaded him, massaged the flesh until he was almost prone in the chair, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. His hips were on the edge of the seat, and I nipped at his stomach, licked a line along his waistband. He elicited a low moan of his own and fire seeped through my veins. When I looked again, the lump in his shorts had grown considerably, and I eagerly extracted his hard cock.