Paid Off

I'm a mechanic. Not just a mechanic, but a very good, highly paid, mechanic. Forget about the internet putting people out of work and don't worry about downturns in the economy. A mechanic is still essential in keeping the wheels turning and without those wheels everything would fall apart.

I'm also naturally thrifty and had been squirreling my wages away from the first payday I received. I have my hobbies and pastimes but they're cheap. I didn't have to spend a lot of money on them so I developed a nice little nest egg. I found this particularly fortuitous at the time of the Global Financial Crisis. Housing was suddenly a glut on the market and the prices were way down. Banks were selling at a pittance just to recover some of their funds. I waited a while, looking around, and just before things started to bounce back I put down a nice deposit on each of three properties, securing loans through my saving and work history.

Things were tight for the next couple of years while the market slowly recovered. After a while I was able to sell one place at a nice profit, using the money cleared to pay off the mortgages on the other two places. Just like that I had a new home and a place to rent out for a little extra income. Financially I was stable and improving.

So there was I, a proud owner of my own home and gainfully employed, and this gentleman drops around to see me at work. He was refreshingly honest and to the point.

"Peter Asher? I want you to stop seeing my daughter. You're not good enough for her. I'll give you a thousand dollars to break it off with her. If you don't, I'll buy this fucking place and fire you."

"You have a way with words," I said holding out my hand for the money.

An envelope was slapped rather disdainfully into my hand and the gentleman turned to depart.

"Ah, excuse me, sir, before you go, exactly who are you and what's your daughter's name?"

"You have more than one girlfriend?" he asked, incredulous.

"What can I say?" I asked. "When you've got it, you've got it."

"I'm Bradshaw," he snarled. "Cheryl's father."

"I'll break the sad news to her this evening," I assured him. "No use putting it off and leaving the poor girl hoping. Don't worry. I'm sure I can persuade her that she's dumping me rather than the other way around."

A vitriolic look and Mr Bradshaw departed, mission accomplished. Now I had a small problem. How could I contact Cheryl?

It turned out easier than I thought. When I hopped onto Facebook I found her already logged on so I sent her a message along the following lines.

"Cheryl, your father wants to pay me to break up with you. We need to discuss this urgently. Please come and see me tonight after 7:00. Alternatively I can discuss the matter further with your father later tonight."

I added my address and logged out, not wanting to get into a discussion on the matter just then through something as impersonal as the internet. It could wait until the evening.

Now you're probably wondering why I thought I might have a problem contacting Cheryl. This would be because I barely knew the girl. I'd seen her around at various parties but we'd never really been introduced. We certainly had never dated so you can understand why I was just slightly curious as to why I was tagged as the big bad boyfriend.

I wasn't too surprised to find Cheryl arriving at my place right on 7:00. She had explanations to give and she knew it. I opened the door and greeted her, ushering her into the front room. I had her sit on the couch sitting a little further up so we could comfortably address each other.

I was comfortable, anyway. Cheryl seemed a little nervous.

"So, how long have I been your boyfriend and why am I such a bad choice?"

"I, um, sort of misled daddy about you. He knows I have a boyfriend and he's awfully nosey and I don't want to introduce Paul to him yet. Not until our relationship is more settled. He saw a note signed with a P and you were the only person I could think of with a name starting with P so I said you were my boyfriend.

He, ah, is under the impression that you've been in trouble with the police a few times and that makes you really undesirable."

Now I might have had a few arguments with the local coppers but nothing of any import. Hell, I'd never even been charged with anything. Accused of having an inappropriate sense of humour but the cops do agree that that's not against the law. Although it should be, I've been advised. For all that most of the local cops come to me to get their cars serviced. I give them a discount as a public service.

"OK. So I'm just a blue-collar worker who's in trouble with the cops and as such a thoroughly undesirable type. I can see his point of view. I don't have to agree with it, but I can see it. The next question is what's wrong with the jerk who is your boyfriend. Is he married or engaged?"

"What? Neither. He's just my boyfriend and he's not a jerk."

"Then why isn't he here with you right now helping you to explain? You did tell him you were coming over here tonight, didn't you."

"Yes. He knows what I told my father. He would've come with me but he had to work."

"Sounds like an excuse to me. Does he ever take you out to public places?"

"Of course we go on dates. He is my boyfriend."

"Yeah, so you say. Why doesn't he want your father to know about him? Sounds shifty to me."

"He works for my father. He's afraid that Dad would fire him if he found out that he was dating me."

"Ah. Nab the boss's daughter and elope. A quick way to promotion. If your father finds him good enough to hire him for the business, why wouldn't he consider him good enough to date his daughter? Does he know something you don't? You sure the guy's not married with a kid on the side. Or divorced with a couple of kids?"

"Of course he isn't. He'd have told me if he was. I trust him. Ah, what are you doing?"

"Undoing your blouse. It seems to me that if I'm being paid a thousand not to be your boyfriend then I should be allowed to have a good look at what I'm giving up. Oh, look. A front opening bra. They are so handy at times like these."

A quick flick and her bra popped open and fell to either side. A very nice pair of breasts were now presented to me. I weighed them in my hands, jiggling them slightly, thumbs seeking and finding her nipples.

"A thousand bucks to forego the pleasure of these? I'm being short-changed. I bet once I get down to checking out your lower curves I'll find I'm being really short-changed."

"How can you be getting short-changed? You're not my actual boyfriend and so you're not exactly having to give me up. What do you mean, my lower curves, and leave my breasts alone?"

I left her breasts alone, hands drifting down to start undoing her skirt.

"I mean all that feminine shapeliness hidden by these items," I told her, starting to tug her skirt down.

"What? You are not taking off my skirt!"

"Um, yes, I am, actually. Very reprehensible of me, I know, but if I don't see you naked I'm going to have to take the money back to your father and explain that you were scamming him and that your boyfriend is a married jerk from his work."

"That's blackmail."

"Not really, more like a touch of coercion. I don't expect to get anything from you. I just feel that I'm entitled to see what I'm giving up. You can actually use it as a plus. You can tell your father that I came on too strong and you're dumping me. Gets rid of your extra boyfriend and pleases your father."

Cheryl may not have agreed to my reasoning but she stopped protesting. Verbally, at least. I coaxed her to her feet and smoothly lowered skirt and panties, holding her a little away from me so I could properly see and appreciate what she had. Nice full breasts with just the slightest sag, just right for a man to get a nice handful. Very nice when you have big hands like mine to have them pleasantly filled. Slender waist and curving hips, hips just the right shape for a man to hold when he's pulling her towards him. Not clean-shaven, but just a light dusting of soft curls. I know they were soft; I ran my fingers through them to make sure.

I pulled her down onto my knee, bending my head to taste her breasts.

"Will you stop that," she hissed. "I've explained what is going on. All you have to do is take the money and pretend you're not my boyfriend."

"I don't have to pretend because I'm not your boyfriend. However, as I'm filling in for him tonight in the eyes of your father then it's only right that I lay a little loving on you. You're missing your loving time with dear Paul because you had to come and talk to me."

By this time I was slowly and suggestively rubbing my hand across her pudenda, feeling the heat, feeling her lips kissing my hand as it moved across them.

"Stop it. Paul doesn't do this sort of thing. We're in love, not a pair of horny teenagers."

"You're a virgin?" I asked startled.

"I didn't say that," she protested, blushing fearsomely. "I just said that Paul and I haven't moved our relationship to that point."

"That settles it. He's getting his rocks off somewhere else. It would be the only way he could keep his hands of a figure like yours. Or maybe he's gay. Do you think he may be gay?"

"He is not gay and will you stop touching me like that."

"So, not gay but probably a cheater and don't touch you like this. Easy done. Is this better?"

There was a small scream and a protest so probably not better. I eased her off my lap and back onto the couch, seeing a look of relief on her face as I took my hands away from where they were tormenting her and slid off the couch, kneeling next to it. There was a louder shriek when I buried my face in her pussy, tongue working overtime. Oddly enough there were no protests, just some ongoing shrieks.

I stood up and Cheryl remained lying on the couch, looking a trifle stunned. She watched me as I stripped, brow wrinkled.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting undressed," I pointed out.

"But why?"

"You're not a virgin. Why do you think?"

"Oh." She looked shocked and oddly pleased.

"Um, you want to have sex with me?"

"Are you saying no?"

She didn't answer, blushing and looking away. Not saying no but not specifically agreeing, either. I was quite willing to accept silence as tacit agreement. I eased one of her legs wider, off the couch, foot resting on the floor. Moving onto the couch I settling myself between her thighs. Nothing fancy for the first time with her. Just drive it in and drive her wild. She was already highly excited.

She wouldn't look at what I was doing, head turned to the side, right up until the head of my cock nudged her lips. It's a wonder she didn't get whiplash, turning her head so fast to watch. I pressed forward, easing between her lips and heading down a tight moist tunnel, finding her flesh closing over me and clinging tightly as I went. I'd hazard a guess that it was a while since she'd had someone make love to her, but she hadn't forgotten the basics.

Sometimes you just do it right. Even as I was driving into her Cheryl was lifting her hips, pushing up hard to meet me, more than willing to accept me. We just fell into an automatic rhythm, her legs coming up and curling around me as she clung to me, having me ride her hard.

I was manfully silent during the performance, but Cheryl held a running commentary with herself, expressing her amazement and delight, tossing the odd comment my way to encourage me to try harder. I was quite willing to try harder, pulling out all stops to both pleasure her and myself.

I was also a little surprised at how long I was able to last. She felt so sweet I wouldn't have been overly shocked to find myself disgracing my abilities by coming way too soon, but I managed to persevere. Even so, it was a near run thing at the end. Damned if I could tell if her climaxing triggered my own or if mine triggered hers. Didn't really matter as we both just collapsed, spent.

Clothes back on Cheryl gave a sigh.

"So, um, I now go back home and tell my father we've broken off and that's it. I guess that means I can probably introduce Paul as my new boyfriend in a couple of weeks and daddy will be so pleased that he's not you he'll welcome Paul."

"Ah, I'm afraid I have a little bad news for you," I told her, steering her towards the door, grabbing my keys as I went. "I'll be coming home with you. I need to give your father back his thousand dollars and tell him no deal. I am now your official boyfriend while we get to know each other. If we break up some time in the future it will be our decision, not his."

"What are you talking about?" Cheryl screamed. "I have a boyfriend. Paul, remember?"

"You couldn't give a stuff about Paul. You're just using him to rebel against your father. If you really cared for Paul you'd never have had sex with me and you know it. The guy's a loser and probably has a girlfriend or wife on the side. He'll survive."

It was quite an interesting meeting with her father. He didn't want the money, he wanted me gone. I pointed out it wasn't his choice to make. Cheryl explained rather explosively to her father that he had no right to involve himself in her personal affairs. She also explained loudly and clearly that I wasn't her boyfriend and would never be her boyfriend. She was working up quite a head of steam when I told her very firmly to be quiet as she was just upsetting herself needlessly. My shutting down her temper had more of an impact on her father than anything else. He wished me luck, because he thought I'd need it. Cheryl simmered and glared at me, but still politely saw me to the door when I departed. It is going to be fun getting to know that girl.