Breaing Him In

Evelyn 'Eve' Moore bent over the engine of the nineteen sixty-six Nova, her firm, curved butt filling out the ragged cut-offs perfectly. She had a screwdriver in one hand and was engaged in the fine art of carburetor tuning when the alarm on her wristwatch went off. Eve reacted as she usually did when she heard such a sound and lifted her head up, smacking it soundly against the steel hood of the Nova. She winced in pain, pulled back from under the hood and stood up.

"How's it looking, Eve?"

She turned and looked at her mechanic, Carlos. "I don't know. I think I'm going to have to rebuild it from scratch. That would be the best thing to do."

Carlos looked at her with an arched brow. While he was responsible for the rest of the vehicles in the household, this Nova was her current pet project. She collected classic automobiles and restored them by hand. It was her passion, an expensive hobby that someone only of her ways and means could afford. She would buy an older car, and then take it back in time, slowly re-sewing the interior, pulling dents, sanding, bondo and finishing with a brilliant paint job. Her garage was state-of-the-art with a side building dedicated as a paint booth.

"I've got to get ready for tonight's show, Carlos."

"Yes, ma'am."

She nodded toward the open garage. "Bring the stretch over in ninety minutes."

"Do you want the black, or white one tonight?"

She wrinkled her lips. "Black, I'll be wearing red, I think."

"When will your show be finished?"

"I'm on the last show at ten forty-five, I should be ready to leave by midnight. Straight home, no stops, please."

"Yes, I'll be ready for you. Back entrance as usual?"

"Of course, Carlos. In and out, please."

Carlos smiled, his teeth showing. He'd defiantly like some in-and-out with Eve.

She left him to put tools away and went along the covered walkway toward the side entrance of her large home. She went through the kitchen, where Leon Chambers, butler, cook, and all around head-of-staff was preparing the evening meal. The rich smell of garlic, butter, and onion filled her senses as she passed.

"Eve, supper will be ready in about twenty minutes."

She turned and smiled, watching him slice tomatoes the knife moving at lightening speed. "What are you going to tantalize me with tonight, then?"

"Ah, nothing more than a simple country salad, minestrone, pasta marinara and some garlic toast."

She licked her lips, her stomach growled.

"Probably just a taste now, but when I get back, I'll be ravenous."

"Very good, Eve. Christopher is waiting for you upstairs."

"Thank you, Leon."

Entering into her bedroom, she found Christopher Shaw, make-up artist and clothier extraordinaire waiting for her. He had laid out a beautiful red sequin gown with tall high-heeled boots and long opera style gloves. She looked at the arrangement. "Dash of punk, Chris?"

Christopher bubbled with glee that she noticed this detail. "Of course! Now you just shower off, and I'll get you ready for tonight's show."

She nodded, and stepped into the huge private bathroom. She peeled clothing off, and enjoyed the extra-hot water as it parlayed the grease and grime of the car off her body. Twice she soaped, and rinsed, leaving her hair dry so that Christopher could style it later on. She toweled off and put on a tight g-string, the leather patch neatly covering her pubic area. Over it, she put a robe on, but did not bother to pull it tight across her large breasts. Once covered she returned to her bedroom.

Her meal was on her side table waiting for her, while Christopher fussed with a corset's silken strings. "What are you going to open with?"

She picked at the minestrone. "I was thinking New York, New York."

"Hard hook first? Then something soft, is that your plan?"

She nodded. "'Why don't you do like', or maybe 'Blue Moon', Billie Holliday style. Something soft and jazzy. Then I'll work up the tempo ladder. Maybe I'll finale with 'Bring me some water' or something a little offbeat. I have to mess with the breeders heads you know. Get them all convinced I'm a lesbian."

Chris smiled. "That's you all over, you just want to fuck with everyone's little head."

She grinned as she bit into toast, chewed and swallowed. "You guys all know where my heart is."

"Indeed we do, Eve." His tone was sharp and somewhat condescending. "You've been teasing Carlos a great deal."

"Do you think it's time to bring him into the fold?" She batted her eyes at him.

"Leon made a subtle pass at him. Carlos didn't say no, but he didn't say yes, either."

"Bastard." She smiled. "I wanted Carlos first."

"He's still pure. I think he's holding out for you."

"Let me think about this for a moment. I'd like to do it carefully."

Chris held up the corset and she stepped over to him, and slipped into it. She held against the doorframe to the bedroom as he pulled the long silken laces tight and then neatly arranged them into a bow. Her already trim frame now enhanced into a perfect hourglass figure. With the corset on, she slithered into the dress and stood as Chris helped her into the boots.

Eve held still for nearly twenty minutes as Chris layered different makeups and powders on her. If one were to look at her, they would swear that she wore no makeup at all. Chris believed that the best makeup should be so good that no one could ever tell you were wearing any, which it helped to bring out the natural beauty of the woman inside. Eve and he had spent many long hours developing different makeup arrangements for different kinds of shows.

Chris changed the lighting in the room, from close up fluorescent to far away incandescent and then made subtle changes with the powders, flipping back and forth, knowing that her fans needed to see her at her best from any angle, in any lighting. He was an artist, and her face was his canvas. He helped her into her opera gloves, quickly styled her hair, and then lightly dressed her with some perfume. The final effect would stun the audience, before she was attractive and sexy, now she blossomed into beauty beyond measure.

Carefully she walked down the stairway in the four inch high-heeled boots. Leon helped her into a faux fur coat and Carlos waited for her at the door in his impeccable chauffeur's uniform. He couldn't take his eyes off the ravishing creature that she had become, and nearly tripped over himself when he stepped back to open the door for her. She smiled cutely to him and thought to herself that yes, Carlos was defiantly ready to join her stable.

The drive from Battle Ground, Washington to Portland, Oregon was about an hour even in the light traffic of nine in the evening. They passed the time by talking through the intercom, mostly about the Nova. She deliberately modulated her voice slightly lower, speaking in a breathy, sexy manner reminiscent of Lauren Bacall.

"I have to say, Carlos, that getting that Nova together has been a delicate task. Thank you for all your help."

"It's been my pleasure, Eve." He smiled at her through the rear view mirror.

She smiled back at him, her perfectly painted lips a brilliant red. "I was thinking about acquiring a corvair next. I've never had the pleasure of working on one of those. Of course, I'll probably have to sell one of the other cars to make room for it. Perhaps the mustang."

Carlos looked aghast. "The Gto?"

"I was thinking more of the sixty-six. She's in excellent condition, and really needs to be displayed. We ladies do like to be driven by a firm hand. I'm sure I can find some quiet collector to take care of her needs, don't you think?"

"Yes, ma'am. A lady needs a proper gentleman to take care of her."

"I'm glad to see we agree."

Carols navigated the limousine flawlessly through the Northeast Portland traffic, as she quickly punched out a text message to Leon and Chris.

'Guys, Carlos and I will be late. Have supper ready. Love, Eve'

She smiled to herself, and then caught Carlos looking at her through the rear-view mirror. She winked at him. Carlos could feel himself becoming aroused and fought to retain some semblance of dignity. He didn't know if she was stringing him along or not, and he didn't care. Just being near Eve was enough to keep him tantalized. He had to masturbate two or three times a day, especially when he saw her fine butt bent over a car. How he longed to peel those cutoffs down to her ankles and lick at her sweetness right there in the garage. Then of course, Leon had to hit on him. Carlos didn't say anything, but now that he knew Leon was queer, he could use him as a sexual outlet. Maybe even a little blackmail. That would be the ticket, you go down on me, or I'll tell the boss you're a little faggot. Yes. Good plan.

He pulled in front of the Club Darcelle and quickly went around to the back of the vehicle. Carefully he eased her out of the car and she walked through the front entrance, as people took pictures. He smiled at them, and pulled the limo off into a side lot. While he had never actually seen her show, he knew she was a local starlet, and that was good enough for him.

She was ushered into her dressing room after signing some eight-by-ten glossies for some fans, and she teased her hair just a bit. A runner came by to check on her, and brought her some iced tea in a scotch glass. This she'd carry on stage and pretend to be slightly drunk while doing her monologue.

Finally, the knock came on the door.

"Three minutes, Miss Moore."

"Thank you." She stood, hung the fur up on the wooden coat stand, and then slipped out onto the landing.

A huge, huskily voiced drag queen stood on the stage, wearing make up that looked like it had been applied with a spackle knife. The Queen batted her eyes, and the audience groaned as she told an incredibly bad joke.

"Well enough of the funny stuff, boys and girls, kings and queens, and everyone in between. Now I present to you a true star of Portland, Miss Eva Moore!"

The spotlight made every sequin on her dress light up like the forth of July and her sultry airplane walk did everything to convey all the right images. She kissed the old queen on each cheek and took the microphone in one hand.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. It's been my privilege to sing for you these last few weeks, and I'm very pleased that you'll allow me my last performance here tonight. I'm due for a run in Las Vegas, so be sure to catch me there."

The crowd responded with thunderous applause as the music keyed up.

Evelyn Moore then did the thing she liked to do better than anything else.

She sang.

Her voice, professionally trained from youth, belted out show tunes at an incredible volume, barely needing the microphone. She had perfect pitch, and a range that spanned octaves. She treated her voice like a finely oiled machine, and kept very good care of it. Every note she sang was clear, and resonated in the old converted theater.

She sang the routine that she had talked with Chris about, and the audience was enthralled. It was as if everyone was around a campfire and having a good time. This, to her, was the heart of entertainment, giving people a good time.

About a third of so into the way of her set, she walked out into the audience and started softly singing to each table, a personal touch that the old queen had taught her. She had learned from the venue that to connect with the audience, she had to become them. She softly laid kisses on cheeks of both the men and the ladies, and even a few queens that had come to reside in the crowd.

When the song ended, she launched right into another one, and when she saw someone singing along, would sing with them in duet, carrying their voice when it was weak, and letting the other person sing more if it was strong. One woman in particular had an excellent voice, and she let her solo through a few bars, drawing a large round of applause.

Back on stage, she had the lights dimmed and sang in the blue spotlight, winding up the routine with her sad, starry-eyed rendition of, "I feel blue". The crowd was hushed as she drug out every single note, crooning in the manner of Sinatra. Now that she had their complete attention, the low, throaty songs came easily, picking up the tempo with, "Fever" in the style of Peggy Lee. She strutted across the stage, backed by an acoustic guitar rendering of, "Moondance" and then closed with, "Bring me some water". She was tired, and despite all her years of training, her voice was becoming tired as well. The audience called for an encore, and she responded with a favorite folk song of hers, "Kisses sweeter than wine" sung in a low, bluesy format. It drove the crowd crazy. She blew kisses at them, and headed back to her dressing room.

Waiting for her were a few bouquets of roses and a tall iced tea that she drank immediately. She was sweating and her makeup was in danger of running. She had only the one show tonight, and was very grateful for it. It was eleven thirty, and she smiled. Just enough time to seduce Carlos, and then get home for the main attraction.

She flicked open her cell phone and dialed. "Carlos. I've had a wardrobe malfunction. I need you, now."

Nine minutes later, he tapped on the door. She was slumped to one side leaning against her makeup table, sitting on her backless stool in front of it. She stretched one leg out.

"I fell in these damn heels. I need some help getting out of the corset, as its misaligned now." Her words were firm, and demanding.

He went to her trying to figure out what to do, and she wiggled her foot. "Get me out of these things first, then the corset."

His hands were gentle, treating her as if she were a child. He unzipped the side and slowly eased her feet out of them, gently laying them down. He rubbed her ankles softly and stole a look up her dress when he thought she wasn't looking.

"God that feels good, Carlos. I should send you to massage school."

Carlos smiled and she stood up and turned her back toward her, and pulled her hair away, leaning her neck forward so the zipper would stand out. His fingers trembling, he pulled gently at the silken material, the fabric parting with ease. The zipper just stopped to her mid back, revealing the corsets' neatly tied bow.

"Okay now I need you to undo that bow, and loosen all the laces."

She could feel Carlos's hot breath on her back and the nape of her neck as his fingers worked at the silk strips, the steel busk of the corset parting gently, letting her breasts breathe.

"Oh that's much better, Carlos. You're a lifesaver." She looked in the mirror through and saw the bulge in his pants as he stood away from her, trying not to press into her. She licked her lips, giving them sheen.

"Anytime, Eve, any time."

As she sat back down, the corset reacted, coming loose in the front, as she had planned. She slipped off the Opera gloves by plucking each finger of them, pretending to be oblivious to both him and the fact that she was nearly topless. She pulled at each shoulder and slipped her arm through, then pulled the corset itself off, letting her huge breasts jiggle. Carlos gasped. Softly she rubbed at them; the harsh red lines of the corset had made their mark, although that would fade in time. She looked up from her stool and smiled at him coyly.

"Do you like what you see, Carlos?"

"Yes Eve" He swallowed.

"That's good. I've been watching you in our gym from time to time. I like a good strong man, especially a mechanic. Tell me, Carlos, is your tool in good condition?"

Softly she petted the bulge in his slacks. He opened his mouth to speak and she opened up the zipper of his pants. She could feel the thickness of his cock through the flimsy material of his black boxers and her sculpted nails drew it forth.

"I see that it is. Old school, no less."

With her hand, she softly stroked him, his uncut foreskin looking at her straight in the eye.

She leaned forward and softly ran the flat of her tongue against the head of his cock, drawing a thin line of preseminal fluid from him. Carlos groaned. Her lips reached forward, and took the full head in, sucking as now both her hands wrapped around his member, slowly moving it farther into her mouth.

"Oh, Eve." His voice was low and guttural.

She a made long, slobbering, slurping noise, sucking four inches toward her throat, her head moving forward. Her tongue rolled the underside, flickering. Carlos moaned again, his hips moving of their own accord, fucking her mouth. She got into it, moving her head back and forth, teasing his cock, jacking the base of it in time with the movement of her mouth. Her lips continued to make noisy sounds, which turned him on even farther. She felt his hand on her hair, and she knew he was close.

She pulled her mouth off him, pulled his scrotum out of the boxers, and ran her tongue down his shaft over his large, swollen balls. Her hand slowly moved the foreskin up and down his cockhead as she sucked on each of he velvety sacks and then came up, again. This time, she gobbled nearly all of his cock in to her throat, sucking hungrily on it, moving her face in time with his hips. One of her hands still fiddled with his balls, the other stroked his meat into her mouth.

She felt the twitch, and spasm of his ejaculation and then the spray of hot semen as it fired into her mouth. She swallowed greedily, trying desperately to not get any semen on the dress. What spilled from her lips she caught in her fingers, and once he pulled his now-limp phallus from her mouth, she licked them clean, looking her straight in the eye.

"This, Carlos, is what we call a fringe benefit. There's plenty more where that came from, but you have to learn to share."

Carlos was pouring down sweat after receiving one of the best blowjobs of his life. He gasped at her.

"Share?"

"You'll need to learn to share with Leon and Chris. Tonight, you can all have me." She smiled.

His eyes grew wide.

"At once. I want you all, at once. It's so much better to share, Carlos. You'll understand when we get home."

He smiled at her with his big teeth, and stuffed his schlong back in his drawers. "Yes ma'am. The Limo is waiting."

Quickly, she peeled the rest of the dress off, and put on a short skirt, and top that she kept her dressing room. She was on fire, and wanted all three of her suitors to please her tonight. Carlos re-wrapped her in the faux mink, and eased her, still barefoot, into the car. She put up the partition to the limo and left him to stew as she drove.

Carlos's heart was pounding like a jackhammer, he never before, in his wildest fantasies had imagined that she was such a cocksucker. What was this business with Leon and Chris? So Leon was bi, was that it? Perhaps he had been doing her all the time. He was surprised that Chris was straight, though. He was such a little queen always playing in the makeup and puttering around at that sewing machine. Still, it could be an incredible night, if he played his cards right. The thought of slipping his cock between her thighs made him hard again, and he rubbed at the tip of it, nearly making himself cum. Better keep to keep calm, and see what other surprises she had for him, he thought. He drove as fast as he could, pushing the limo for all it was worth. He couldn't see her through the smoky glass, but hoped she was frigging herself silly, getting herself all good and primed for the fucking he wanted to give her. He pulled the limo around front, and played it cool, getting out and opening the back door for her.

"Thank you, Carlos. I believe Leon has supper for us. Let's not keep him waiting."

Carlos was all smiles. "Yes ma'am."

When she entered, Leon and Chris were waiting for her. Both men were wearing their normal, casual clothing, and when they heard the Limo pull away she spoke to them.