"Im super bored & horny."
The text from Kat, my eighteen-year-old neighbor, popped up on my phone a little after 1:00 pm. Almost a week had passed since we had last been together, an afternoon filled with new sexual adventures for the cute and sexy girl, and physical pleasure mixed with growing guilt for me. A married man in his mid-thirties, one with two kids and a loving wife, had no business guiding the literal girl next door through the exploration of her sexuality. But that was exactly who I was and what I was doing. And part of me knew I should stop. But another part, the one doing most of my thinking when I was near Kat, could not give up the chance to continue exploring with such an energetic and enthusiastic young woman.
"Aren't U at school?" I replied, glancing toward the window to the garage floor as I typed.
"Ys. Fucking sucks. Want U."
"What do U want?" I knew I should not encourage her to keep texting me. She should be concentrating on school, and I had a business to manage. But, as I was quickly learning, I did not make the best decisions where Kat was concerned.
"Give U BJ."
A surge of desire for the teen stiffened my dick a little, and I knew I had to put an end to the conversation.
"& U fuck me. Hard." The words appeared on my screen before I could formulate my intended message, and my resolve crumbled.
"Supposed to spank and tie U up," I typed. A moment's hesitation preceded my finger tapping the send button.
"Fucking parents home this weekend." A frowning emoticon followed the words.
"So r wife & kids."
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
"Sorry." I knew that single word would do nothing to help Kat's frustration, or my own for that matter, but I did not know what else to say.
"Just a sec."
I nodded, realized that Kat could not see the gesture, and sighed. This whole texting thing did not come as naturally to me as it seemed to for her. Drumming my fingers, I waited for the next message. After a couple of minutes, I wondered whether something had come up. Deciding that was for the better, I resumed what I had been doing before the blonde girl had texted me -- reconciling invoices. The buzz of an incoming call distracted me from this task. I picked up my phone and saw Kat's number.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Brian," Kat's hushed voice responded.
"What are you doing? Where are you?"
"In the bathroom and calling you."
"Oh. I really shouldn't be talking to you at work," I said, again glancing through the window to make sure none of the mechanics were on their way into the office.
"But my poor little pussy is soaking wet." Kat's words, rendered in an even huskier tone than her normally plenty throaty voice, left me speechless. "I'm rubbing it, but I need your cock... or your tongue. Or maybe your tongue while I suck your cock. How does that sound."
"Wonderful," I sighed, my erection growing firm enough to strain against my pants. "But I'm..."
"I know, I know. You're at work. But you know what? I think my car has a problem. Too bad I won't be able to get it there until after you close. Can you wait for me?"
My lips formed a 'no', but the word itself stuck somewhere in my throat as I considered the possibilities. All the mechanics should be gone or on their way out by 5:00 pm, barring a late-arriving customer. And my wife would not find it unusual for me to an hour or more late from work. She knew I sometimes stayed late to finish paperwork or make sure the actual parts on hand matched the inventory. The only issue would be Carlos, the shop manager. He sometimes stayed late as well. And despite the fact that my uncle had made me the business manager, Carlos believed he ran everything.
"I'll get back to you one that," I told the girl.
"But..."
"I'll get back to you." My tone left no room for argument.
***
"Hey, Carlos," I said, raising my voice above the ever-present shop noise.
"What is it, Brian?" the older man asked, and like always, he tried to stare me down in what I assumed was an attempt to put me in my place.
"My neighbor's daughter has been having some trouble with her car. I usually help her with regular maintenance and stuff, but we need to use some of the equipment..."
"Have her bring it in."
"She can't afford..."
"You can't use the shop for shit like that. Paying customers only."
"I already talked to Greg, and he said it's okay..."
"Of course you did," Carlos grumbled, his stare turning even more disdainful. I knew he resented that my uncle had made me the business manager -- as well as the boss over the shop manager, at least on paper -- so I tended not to push him directly.
"I'll do all the work..."
"Fuck yeah, you will. Me and my guys won't do shit."
"It'll be after 5:00 before she can get here."
Carlos's dark eyes narrowed for several seconds before a smirk I could best describe as knowing settled on his feature.
"Don't worry. We'll all be gone before your
puta
gets here."
"It's not like that," I said, attempting indignation but sounding defensive even to my own ears. "She's the neighbor girl."
"Yeah, so you said," Carlos scoffed. "We've all worked on cars for neighbor girls like that."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure, Brian. Sure."
***
Carlos and the mechanics were all gone by 5:10 pm. The shop manager had even slapped me on the back and given me an exaggerated wink. I tried again to tell him he had the wrong idea, but he just grinned. As he walked out the door, I heard him talking in Spanish to one of the mechanics, telling him that I was waiting for a
puta
to give me
una chupada
. Both men laughed.
Alone, I glanced at my phone. I had texted Kat to tell her to come by the shop at 5:15 pm. Her only reply had been a 'K', which I took for agreement. I had also texted Cami, my wife, to tell her I would be late. She had not replied.
At almost 5:20 pm, I opened the garage door and Kat drove her 1999 Wrangler into the garage. The Jeep had belonged to Cami before it was Kat's, and the only reason Kat's parents had bought it for her was because I had promised it was safe. Her mother had wanted her to have a smaller car, but Kat liked the Jeep.
"So, what's the problem, ma'am?" I asked as the girl hopped out of the 4X4. She wore a loose, emerald green polo shirt and not so loose khaki pants, the uniform of her charter school.
"I need a good fucking," Kat grinned, her dark blonde hair framing her face in a way that made her look younger than she did most of the time.
"Ummm...."
"Oh... you're wearing coveralls." My young lover chewed on her bottom lip and played with her dark blonde hair but said nothing else.
"I thought maybe we could, you know... roleplay," I said after a few seconds of silence.
"I... get that. But..."
"If you don't want to..."
"Do we have time?"
"I... when do you need to be home?"