I pulled onto the forecourt of the garage in my old Citroen DS2, it was late and strangely quiet, not even the radio was playing. I turned off the engine and she spluttered to stop, turned off the lights and looked for any signs of life. I could see a shaft of light coming from one of the office windows, I decided to head towards that. My heels sounded deafeningly loud on the concrete floor, no stealth approach here -- he knows I am coming anyway.
I push open the door that has been left ajar for me and slide in through the gap, closing and locking it behind me. As I do the lights go off and I dare not move amongst the machinery and tools of the garage, I feel his breath on my neck a second before anything else but it is not quite enough warning to stop me gasping as he kisses me, pulling me into his arms. He smells of engine oil and fuel mixed with a musky aftershave, his face is stubbly from a day at work and is rough against my face and neck as he hungrily kisses me his strong hands pulling me into his grubby work clothes. "You are going to make me all dirty!" I complain, thinking about my smart grey suit getting all grubby in the dark.
He pulls away and firmly grasps my hand, blinded by the complete darkness I have no choice but to follow his lead as he guides me through the busy workshop, we come to a stop and he turns me 180 degrees, pauses then pushes me down. With no warning I fall easily onto the sofa I have sat on many times in his small office, but he doesn't give me time to think about where before he is on top of me pressing me into the soft surface. "My dress!" I protest again, only half worried now, of course I don't want him to stop.
"You are really that worried about your dress? Really? You want me to stop? You are free to leave any time you like you know..." He trails off and I realise he has now got off me and once again I am blind and alone and totally unaware of what is going on around me.