You Can Probably Buff That Out

(c) 2011, 2022 by Sir Render

In the early afternoon of the second day of their cross-country drive, Adam and Samantha Eastman decided they should stop for a couple of beers and some food. Both were in the prime of their lives and had taken up the long road trip partly because Adam had an irrational fear of flying and partly because they were on their way to a big family reunion at one of Samantha's aunt's homes in upstate New York.

They had taken turns behind the wheel so they could cover as much ground as possible, getting in more than ten hours on the road the first day. Now Samantha, Sam to all her friends, was driving and she pulled the car off the main highway at the first big city they found.

"Do you want a burger?" she asked her husband.

"Meh," came Adam's reply.

"Chicken sandwich?"

"Not really hungry for more fast food," Adam replied, looking aimlessly out the side window. "I could sure go for a couple of beers. We need to find a bar."

"Well gee, how about that one?" Sam said, pointing with one finger while keeping both hands on the steering wheel. It was a small building with no obvious windows but a large sign over the door bearing the name Marley's Bar & Grill. They saw one car, two pickup trucks and two diesel big rig cabs in the parking lot, which seemed to consist mostly of dirt and pebbles with some broken old patches of asphalt. Samantha continued, "They say you can tell a place is good if the truckers eat there."

Adam shrugged. "Why not? I'm feeling adventurous."

Before getting out of the car, Samantha took her compact from her purse and gave herself a touch-up in the rear view mirror. Adam wondered if she was making herself up for his benefit or for the locals.

Adam needed no makeup. At thirty years, he still had the kind of youthful face which got him carded when buying lottery tickets. He had never admitted it to his wife, but he had helped to pay his way through college by working as a male stripper and photo model.

When they'd parked the car -- there really was no semblance of striped spaces, just areas which weren't already occupied by another vehicle -- there had been nothing within six feet of them. But Adam had failed to notice another car pulling in on his side. As he swung open his door, he collided with the side of a black Chrysler 300.

The driver of the car got out quickly, hollering about damages and looking at the dent and scratches Adam's door had left.

"Oh my god man, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you pull in. There wasn't anyone there when we pulled in."

The man, a large, heavyset black man with a short afro, called him a blind dumb fuck. He howled about how much it was going to cost to get his door fixed and repainted. Adam, by now out of the car, bent forward a bit and said, "You can probably buff that out."

"Buff it out?!" the black man bellowed. "Buff it out?! Fool, are you stupid too? That there's a dent. I didn't have a dent when I pulled in here. That's your dent."

"Well look," Adam offered, "I've got insurance info here in the glove box. Give me your info and I'll give you mine and we can let the insurance company decide who's fault it was."

"Fool it was your motherfucking fault! That's where your door hit my door. Now what you gonna do about it?"

"Well, ahh--" Adam wasn't a big man. He was lean and toned but not particularly strong. The man yelling obscenities in his face was nearly twice his size. Adam fumbled for words but managed to take out his wallet and offer the guy fifty dollars. The man took it, held it up and laughed.

"Fifty dollars? Fifty? This is at least a five hundred dollar job right here."

By this time the shouting outside the bar had attracted some attention. Down the line Samantha could see one of the truckers, who had presumably been asleep in the back of his cab, step out and stand by his open door. Two other guys and a woman had come out of the building to see what was going down. All of them just stood and watched; no one tried to break up what looked to be a fight brewing.

"I can give you another ten!" Adam said hurriedly. "That's all the money I have on me."

"Well maybe your bitch has got some more money."

"What did you say?" Adam asked, his expression changing from one of growing fear to one of challenge.

"You heard me little man. Go and ask your mommy how much money she got."

Adam put a hand on the black man's chest to push him back and made a fist with his other hand. "Don't you dare talk about my wife like that," he seethed.

Samantha screamed as she saw the big man pulling back to sock her husband in the face. "Stop! Stop!" She rushed around their car and gripped the man's meaty fist with both of her small hands.

Her touch was soft and the big man reacted.

"Please," she begged, "don't hit him. It was just a stupid mistake. These things happen." She swallowed and took a breath. Her voice became less panicked and more husky. "Maybe we can work something out." She kept one hand on his fist, lowering it to his side and used her other hand to rub his bicep.

"Samantha!" Adam protested in an unexpectedly high pitch. Even he was thrown off by the sound of it.

"Sweetie, I know you mean well and I know you'd fight this guy if you thought you had to. But really you could never take him on and I don't want to see your pretty face get messed up."

The big man chortled at that. "He is an awfully pretty boy," he sneered. "Whatever are you doing with a guy like him?"

In contrast to Adam's toned but unremarkable physique, Samantha stood five feet six inches without heels and had a perfect little hourglass figure; healthy C cup breasts, slim waist and just a hint of a bubble butt rounding her out. Her legs were long and slender and the capri pants she wore that day showed off her smooth calves nicely. The loose fitting v-neck sleeveless top which she'd worn for comfort during the long day's drive gave the tall black man a nice look down between her pert breasts. He could see all the way to her belly button ring.

Samantha pressed her body against the man's side and laid her head on his shoulder. "He's a nice guy when you get to know him. You two just got off on the wrong foot. Adam, honey, tell the nice man -- what is your name?"

"Big Paul."

"Tell Big Paul that you're sorry and give him our insurance info. We can all handle this like mature adults."

Adam saw that at least Samantha's feminine wiles had calmed the brute. The chance of a fist fight breaking out was dwindling. He opted to play along and get this whole situation behind them quickly. Digging in the glove box, he found their license, registration and auto insurance. He said, "Sorry Paul. I really am."

"Sorry ain't good enough, pretty boy." Big Paul raised Samantha's chin with an index finger and looked her in the eyes. "But I'd be willing to let it go for some time with this little lady."

"Oh hell no!" Adam blurted.

"Look man, you did about five hundred dollars damage to my car. If your pretty little wife here gets down on her knees and gives me head, I'll let you go without breaking your nose."

Adam could scarcely believe what he had just heard, but that was the lesser of the surprises he was to get standing there in the parking lot.

His beautiful wife of four years asked Big Paul if he would really let the whole thing slide if she sucked his cock.

"Depends how good you are," he stated. "And whether you swallow it all down like a good little girl."

Samantha looked around and saw that at least one of the bystanders at the bar door who'd come out to see a fight had moved on and the trucker was no longer in sight. She gulped down a lump in her throat and quietly asked, "Where do you want to do it?"

Adam's mouth hung open as he looked from Big Paul to Samantha with shock and horror on his face.

"I'm going nowhere until I get paid," replied Big Paul.

Samantha submissively sank to her knees and began unbuckling the man's belt. As she worked to get his cock out of his pants, he reached down and pulled her top up around her shoulders. A little tug transmitted to the woman that he expected her to raise her arms so her top could be removed. She did so and the top was tossed to the ground behind her, revealing to all that she was braless.

Adam stared in awe as his pretty, fair skinned wife, took the thick black cock of Big Paul in her hands and began using her tongue and lips to coat it with her saliva. She teased his cock head with her tongue, making him visibly shudder, before wrapping her lips around it. His wasn't the longest cock in the world, but it was definitely thick. Samantha took only the head into her mouth at first and began jacking the girth of his shaft with both hands. Soon she was taking more of him, centimeter by centimeter, until her cheeks bulged with the mass of throbbing cock stuffed into her moist pie hole.

She had worked her way slowly down to almost the base of his shaft when Adam regained his senses and stepped forward to separate them. The two remaining onlookers from the bar, a black woman with her hair in cornrows and a young latino man with a shaved head and tattoos, had come around their car to get a better look as the little white girl sucked on the big black cock and Adam wasn't happy with the idea of his wife being gangland entertainment.

But Big Paul just planted his big hand on Adam's chest to hold him back while Samantha, muffled sounds of pleasure coming from the depths of her throat, continued trying to suck the sperm right out of his balls.

She had to come up for air several times, and each time before forcing her mouth farther down on the stiff prick she told her husband it wasn't worth getting his face smashed in.

"Your wife does suck good cock," Big Paul told Adam. "If she swallows it all and gives me a smile, you'll be free to go when I'm done with her."

Adam seethed but could do nothing about it. The man was not forcing Samantha per se; she had initiated the cock sucking and she was doing most of the work keeping his cock slick and tugging on it with both her hands. It was only when Big Paul felt he was ready to climax that he grabbed Samantha's head with his ham sized hands and held her face in place until he'd finished spewing his hot semen down her throat. She began to cough and he warned her not to lose any of his "little soldiers". She did her very best swallowing every drop and when he pulled his shrinking cock from her mouth she made the extra effort to lick him clean.

"Now give me a big smile," he told her as he patted her on the head. She looked up and forced the corners of her mouth to twist upward, though the daggers from her eyes could not be hidden.

Big Paul pulled up his pants, pocketed the sixty dollars Adam had given him and walked off toward the bar whistling a happy tune.