Game On

Slightly startled, I turned when I heard his voice. I didn't expect to hear any English as the couple and their son at the gas pump behind me were speaking excitedly in Japanese. I started laughing as he attempted to show them how to work the credit card. If I was staring, I certainly don't remember. He was long and lean, with short blond hair and dark eyes crinkling to bit of mirth around the corners. Mid thirties I thought, perhaps a bit younger. A very attractive man, but it's the mischievous look that always captures my attention. Eyes like those beg for a tease. Without missing a beat as he replied in a language they could not understand, his eyes slowly traversed the length of my body, stopping briefly in a way of assessing and taking stock. He lifted his head and nodded ever so slightly, flashing a grin as if to say he liked what he saw.

Slightly embarrassed but highly intrigued by the way he grazed my body so carefully, I found myself thinking that one good turn deserved another. He had returned to his car to fill his tank. He was facing me, one hand holding the pump, the other on his hip. I was still smiling as I spotted the washer fluid half way between us. I sauntered over and carefully placed my feet far enough apart to comfortably bend at the waist while I grabbed the handle of the wiper. My spaghetti strapped low cut top, now gaping at the front, showed just enough of my smallish breasts and the distinct line between tanned and creamy white flesh. Still bent over, I hesitated, and raised my head to meet his eyes before lifting the wiper from the watery bin and grabbing a clean blue cloth from the holder. I wanted him to know this was solely for his pleasure. As our eyes locked, I realized he fully appreciated the game. I flashed a grin his way as I stood up and returned to my car.

Carefully retracting the driver's side wiper, I raised myself on tiptoe and bent over the hood of the car as I stretched to reach the middle of the windshield; knowing full well my already short skirt would ride a bit higher on my thigh giving him clear view of the back of my leg. My skirt rose higher and higher as I purposefully stretched farther over the car, hoping for enough of a view to imply my panty-less habit. It's a pose every man loves, taught leg muscles, a round ass projected outwards, a slight sway in the back, and shoulders thrown back just enough to push breasts forward and up. The only things that would make a pose like this any more sexually blatant would be stiletto heels and garter belt with black seamed stockings.

If there was ever a time I wished for my random sex with a stranger fantasy to come true, it was then. I could feel the wetness dripping down my leg. The heat of my now swollen pussy had spread upwards causing a noticeable tightness in my belly. I shivered unexpectedly, feeling a bit chilled as a sudden breeze nipped at my bare ass.

Without looking back, I flipped the wiper back into position and walked to the other side of the car. I was still facing away from him but now the lower half of my body obscured from his view. There wasn't much more I could do short of dropping the wiper and bending over to flash him. In another location where the view would be his alone, I might have considered an action that brazen. As I pretended to be absorbed at the task at hand but now wondering if he was still behind me, I saw his car rounding the corner of the pumps in my direction. With the wiper still in hand I turned, leaned my hip against the car and crossed my legs in an obviously daring gesture. I locked on to his eyes and tracked his progress towards me. He slowed almost to a stop and averted his eyes to traverse my body again as if he could see me standing naked before him. Again he inclined his head, deeper this time, and grinned before driving away.

I've kept my eye out for that dark, late model mustang this week, wondering if he's local or just happened to stop here in town for gas that day. Sure would ride that stick shift if I ever got the chance. Yes indeed, one good turn deserves another.