Crackle. . zizz . . .psssst. Heather's heart mimicked the rock candy explosions she ignited by emptying an entire packet of crystallized sugar into her mouth. "Ummy" she uttered, flaunting her stained tongue through untinted glass. Todd van Doren stood outside. Listening to gallons of gas roll into his truck and watching Heather cavort in the cab inspired the guilty satisfaction of a kid skipping school. It had been a slow afternoon at the air conditioning repair shop where they worked. Todd and Heather left abruptly giving little justification to Eric who casually consented to covering the phone.
Todd shook his head at Heather, pretending to be above her girlish antics; truthfully, he was still amazed they were dating. Well, he corrected himself, fooling around, anyway. Although happily married and easily fifteen years older, Todd reasoned no man could have resisted her pretentious moans that critical day when a flirtatious back rub went awry.
Considering ways to prolong their errand, Todd eyed the carwash. While removing magnetic company logos from the truck's side panels, he made a mental note to do Eric a few favors when they returned. The owners' active management of the shop made impulsive outings like this a rare treat. Back at the wheel, Todd drove behind the station. Feeling indulgent, he inserted bills for a "Level Gold Ultra Wash." Many girls are not content playing mistress, but Heather thrived in the role's urgency and wickedness. She was not set on capturing Todd, but rather continuing to short-circuit his brain and balls by enacting fantasies he never even knew he possessed. Just watching her bop along to pop radio made Todd feel young, carefree, and proud. Heather took a long drink from her straw, then winked at her lover and blew him a kiss.
A gangly blond high school kid engaged his hydraulic handgun, blasting the truck's tires for the "High Pressure Hubcap Clean." Heather gave him a wink as he circled round the vehicle dragging a heavy hose. Her impish smile and twenty-two-year-old tits drew the same stupefied reaction they elicited from men of all ages.
Brazenly, Heather's pink polished fingernails traced up Todd's thigh for a little squeeze. Although unfazed by her attention, Todd pursed his lips in a sly smirk. A light turned green, and their enlivened young spectator beckoned the truck onto a slow-moving track. Todd turned down the radio, settled back and draped his arm over Heather as if seated in a fiberglass swan entering the tunnel of love.
"Yep, it's working," Todd teased and adjusted the vent. He had recently enlightened Heather to several male employees' joke about using her nipples to test air conditioners. Heather took the comments in stride, enjoyed the collective attention, and responded with appropriately encouraging slaps and squeals of dismay.
A cloudy curtain closed and turquoise blue belts began slapping water at the truck's grill and hood. Eagerly, Heather reached inside a console compartment and withdrew her weapon. Todd shook his head. God Laurie would kill me, he thought as he laughed out loud. Heather twisted the top of his wife's silver vibrator, its seductive hum barely audible below the lazy lapping of thick saturated strips.
Todd transported the toy daily, never knowing when Heather might have time for a quickie. He and Laurie hadn't used it in years, but the vibrator's disappearance would be hard to explain. "Since you like it so much, we've got to get you one of your own," Todd said, knowing that, as brave as she was, Heather wouldn't enter the local porn shop unless following his lead. Heather, however, ignored the comment. Deliberately, she propped her feet on the dash, bucked her hips up and began unbuttoning her shorts.
Beneath the mist of prepping sprayers, bristly brushes rotated in toward the truck and scraped along its sides. Heather looked cool, but expectation spun in her stomach. The frenzied air of excitement hit long before the oscillating appliance in her hand. Todd had introduced Heather to battery-powered paradise and delightfully observed her initial investigations. Good God, he thought now, growing steadily erect, I've created a monster.
Heather slid her combined shorts and panties down until taut denim and lace hobbled her elevated ankles. Ceremoniously, she slipped the shiny vibrator between her lips. Todd admired the line of her smooth legs, and his fingers yearned to traipse through her silky fine hairs. Without warning, foamy jets of soap splattered the windshield; Todd's aching cock jerked to be free. His hand clamped immediately to the crotch of his uniform pants, and he inhaled deeply for self-control.
Heather, now physical engaged, appeared lost in sensuous meditation. Through Todd's eyes she was fearless and in his presence that boldness swelled with no shame. Sure someone might see, but she let Todd worry about that. He was the one who faced trouble if caught. That fact took away any of her remaining inhibitions.
After its frothing peak, the carwash proceeded through the motions again: heavy soaking streamers teasing the truck with each abrupt smack and then slow soothing stroke. While Heather quivered and probed, Todd relished the thrill. This gorgeous vixen was performing for him. Light stripes interrupted her tan hips and eased his imagination to a tempting bikini and them on the beach. The surrounding sensation, a hypnotic fwap, fwap, fwap, transported Todd to a surreal dimension far from work, carwash workers, and all other complications.
Heather rolled her head back and licked her lips. Giving in to her pleasure, she got into the act. She held the vibrator to her clit causing tickling ripples to rush through her thighs. Then swooping it down she plunged the metallic shaft deep in her hole, coating its length with glistening glaze. Finally she rocked the tip back up to inflict the whole span of her cunt with an epidemic of shivers. All warm inside, she too relaxed somewhere else.
