I really hope the men reading this story are young enough to not remember this car. It's my husbands pride and joy. He spends so much time tinkering with it that he neglects me ..... And I need much more tinkering with!
I had an appointment in town; we live so far away I could only get to it by driving there myself. The appointment was quite important, as I had decided to go back to work. My kids were at school all day and my man off doing his thing, leaving me rattling around in this big old house on my own.
I got dressed in my best dark blue suit with a white cotton blouse; and my sexiest undies and stockings, not that any one would notice. My skirt comfortably covered them to just below my knee, but it made me feel good. You know what I'm talking about don't you girls? And the men will just have to use their imagination!
I got into my car - an old Citroen C5. It wouldn't start. Damn! This was going to make me late, and that's the worst impression I could give to a prospective employer. What should I do? I went indoors thinking I would have to phone and cancel the appointment, but it was just the job I was looking for - receptionist for a dentist. It's not everybody's idea of heaven but the hours would work around my kids coming out of school, and that suited me perfectly.
I went to the phone, and noticed his keys lying on the table. His MGB key fob caught my attention; dare I take his pampered car to get to the interview? I grabbed the keys, without thinking of the consequences if anything happened to that car. I drove away; I had gone about three miles when trouble started. The engine coughed and spluttered. Oh god! It was going to stop on this lonely back road, with me stranded in the middle of nowhere.
The engine coughed once more and died. I coasted the car onto the grass verge and stopped. Thank goodness I had my mobile phone with me. The first call was to my interview, explaining that my car had broken down and I wouldn't be able to make the appointment. The second should have been to my husband begging his forgiveness; but it was to a garage I normally took my own car to, to ask for their help. If I could get this car back home and parked it where it belonged, he might never know.
I sat in the car waiting for the mechanic to arrive. It took ages, but at last the van came round the corner. This very young man jumped out, his tool box in his hand. He came up to the car as I stepped out. His face was so young, he still had teenage spots.
His smile was as wide as the sky. He asked, "What's wrong with it then madam?"
"Well, it just coughed and spluttered then stopped," I replied.
He said, "Open the bonnet for me, please."
I bent into the car to release the bonnet catch and caught him eyeing up my legs, as I turned to tell him it was now open. He had the cheekiest grin, but he was far too young for me.
He lifted up the bonnet (hood if you are American) and looked inside. I could tell by the look on his face that the car was like nothing he had ever seen before; it had been built before he was born. But he checked one or two things and then said, "There's not much I can do with this, it's not a car I'm accustomed to, but I will ring for help."
He went to the van to fetch his phone. I couldn't help noticing his shapely young bum in his tight jeans as he walked away. What was I thinking? He wasn't much older than my son. I couldn't help but look as he leaned into his van to reach his phone. His jeans pulled tight, showing his cute little ass. Oh god! What was I doing, ogling a boy who was only just out of school?
He called his boss, who told him to stay with me until the breakdown truck arrived, as he thought it was best to tow the car in. I told him I wanted it towed home and left for my husband to repair. That was okay, so we waited .... and waited .... and waited. Well over an hour later the young mechanic called again. The breakdown truck had broken down. Was this my day or what?
But I had other problems; I wanted a pee so badly and there were a few bushes nearby to hide behind. They were only a few feet high. I said I need to take a walk, and strode purposely towards the small clump of shrubs, getting as far behind them as possible I hitched up my skirt and pulled my panties down knowing he would be able to see through the thin branches of the bushes. But I had to go. I squatted down and let my water flow. It sounded so loud in the silence of the lonely country lane.
He must have seen and heard me as I peed there behind the bushes, because when I returned his jeans had a very pronounced bulge in the front. He didn't try to hide his obvious arousal; in fact he seemed to be flaunting it. He seemed proud of his big bulge, but I couldn't stop myself from looking at it. My eyes just kept coming back to his crotch, despite his obvious youth.
He seemed aware of my inability to look away, and smiled at me. His teeth were so white and even. He looked like the sort of lad I would want my daughter to bring home in a few years, a really nice country boy with no pretensions, just a sweet kid. However, that wasn't what was going on in my mind. In fact, at this moment, my family seemed about as far away as they could be. It started to rain - just a few spots but enough to want to get out of it.
I opened the car door and got in. He opened the door on the other side and asked, "Is it alright if I get in too?"
I don't think he had meant a double intention in his words, but it caught me unawares.
"Yes," I said, "You can get in." And I didn't mean the car.
He sat beside me in the small cockpit. It was tiny. A lot of the old cars of yesteryear were much smaller than what we are used to today. His leg was touching mine and it felt like a brand of fire. My skirt had ridden up a little showing the darker tops of my stockings. His eyes never left that flash of black stocking top. He reached out to touch me. I should have pushed him away, but my hands wouldn't work. His fingers touched the nylon, and then moved my skirt a little higher until the white flesh of my thigh was showing above my stocking.
He stroked my skin with a reverence I hadn't experienced for so long. It was like in my early courting days, when feelings were so much bigger and more intense, but he was about the same age as I was then. He probably hadn't touched a woman's leg in this way before. Maybe he had with a few young girls but no-one as old and experienced as me.