1 comments/ 11154 views/ 1 favorites Car Repairs By: FernPedersen The rain moves in again; this time with the promise of a longer shower. We stand inside the doorway, just out of reach to the probing, but warm drops and survey the sky. Maybe, we'll get lucky. Perhaps the clouds will pass quickly as they have all day and we can move back outside and finish the tasks at hand. The comfortable closeness we share becomes steamy as the heat and humidity in the room increases. Summer showers are remarkable in their smells, sounds and ability to change the taste of the air. As you stand close, I can feel the heat radiating from your arms and chest. We're dripping from the surprising swiftness of the shower and, as we lean in the doorway, my mind shifts from thinking about the weather to breathing in your scent. It's a damp smell with other foreign notes: sawdust, motor oil, dry grass. It's an odd combination but wonderfully masculine and distracting. We move further into the room, winding around the detritus of the garage, moving away from the sheet of water that leaves no promise of an early finish. Our hands find things to touch. Wrenches, boxes, wood scraps. Replacing, restoring and setting items back in their places. We revolve around each other, lost in our own thoughts. I can't help but be relieved by the rain. I've spent the day watching you twist and bend. Watching from behind as you lean over the engine or straddling you with the light as you lie flat under the car; waist and long legs visible but nothing else. I've imagined raking my hands across your back, your chest, filling them up with your body all day. My small, seemingly accidental touches not registering with you but sending volts of need through my body. Brushing a few blades of grass from your hair has enough energy to ignite paper. The challenge to make contact with your skin when handing over tools is a frustrating one-person game and I gain only a few points. With everything returned to its place, I lean against the door frame again and feel your presence behind me. Your hand on my arm causes me to jump and I watch your other hand take my own and examine the smudges and dirt. There's a bathroom in back and I turn and follow you back to scrub away proof of the afternoon, resigned to the rain, to the end of day filled with my own longing and shared innuendo, to another round of frustrating thoughts and fantasies with no culmination. I stop at the doorway and wait for you to allow me to pass through first. As I move through, in to the room, I turn to the sink, refusing to look in the mirror. I can feel the sadness; I don't need to see it. I reach for the soap and turn on the water as the door closes behind me. An unexpected movement jerks my eyes to the mirror and am caught in your gaze, trapped as certainly as a fly in a web. Holding your gaze, I ask the question with my eyes and brows but I can't read the answer though it seems my blood already knows. The answer is singing through my body, in and out, my heart beating a rhythm of understanding as I step aside to allow you to share the stream of water and place the slippery bar of soap in your hand. The soap falls and your large hands envelop mine removing excess bubbles, massaging them into both sets of dirty hands. As we hold them under the stream, my eyes focus on the gray water and suds swirling in the sink and the flash of your fingers twining through mine, cleaning and stroking. In these moments, no words have been uttered. Only the sound of the running water is present to break the growing silence. You reach to shut off the water as I pull a towel down from the rack. Dry now, my hands wrap the towel around yours and I dare to raise my eyes to yours. As our gaze meets, your hands lock around mine and you raise both of my arms over my head spinning me around so I'm pressed to the back of the door. My breathing has quickened perceptibly and my arms, held high over my head, force my heaving chest to be the next focus of your attention. Removing one hand from holding my wrists, I watch in the mirror at the reverse of these movements. Your hand drops to my shoulder pushing my t-shirt to the side to touch the flaming skin. One long finger traces my collar bone to my throat and down the center of my chest dragging the front of my t-shirt down to expose what surely must be glowing skin. Fingertips move over the top of my shirt, ever lower. Tips brushing over the tops of my breasts. It feels as if the fabric is burned away by this movement. Your fingers trace the outline of my bra through my shirt, spending excruciating moments on the stone tips that were once soft and sensitive. I am unable to bite back the gasp that comes with the touch. I watch your head dip in the mirror at the same time that I feel the heat of your breath through my shirt. Teeth graze and the pain is tenable. My knees fold and I find myself supported by one long, lithe thigh wedged between mine. I regain my footing as your lips close over me through my shirt and the thin pink satin cup. The undergarment was chosen despite knowing its complete inappropriateness for dirty garage work. I can feel your tongue burning through the fabric as it grows damp and the writhing flesh underneath struggles to free itself. I risk another glance in the mirror and drag my eyes over your narrow waist, your back, your head bent over my chest, watching your movements causes difficulty in drawing the next breath. Taking advantage of your distraction, I tug my hands from your grip and bury them in your hair pulling your mouth impossibly further down. I am nearly crazy with agonizing pain and desire. A few hesitant steps forward propels us toward the shower and, surprisingly, you don't resist as I steer you backwards toward the cool, tile wall. I risk a final glance in the mirror and catch the sparkling curiosity in your eyes. We stop when your back reaches the wall and I drag your rain soaked shirt over your head. I can't stop to slowly explore as my hands give in to their need to touch every inch of your chest and back without delay. Your own hands rest lightly on my shoulders watching my movements with obscene patience. I look up into your face. Am I asking permission? For what, you don't know but your lips dip to meet mine and I open my mouth willingly. I am anxious to know your taste and am rewarded by the sweetness that fills my mouth. The kiss is interminable and brief at the same time. The feel of your hands again buried in my hair affords more time for this exploration of your mouth with mine, your body with my hands. My lips leave yours to trail across your chin, jaw and down your neck to your shoulders. I feel my shirt rise and lean back to allow it to slide over my head. Burning skin on burning skin feels strangely cool and I move my mouth along the top of your chest, nails scratching gently at your nipples as my lips finally reach them. They are instant diamonds at the touch of my tongue as I circle one and scratch at the other. Now it's me bracing you against the wall, preventing your collapse but only barely. The ebb and flow of pressure from my mouth is a movement as old as song and I can feel your response to this throughout your body. Your telling heat and unyielding strength encourages my descent and I move my mouth ever lower. My hands on your hips now, I drag your body closer to me and tease my teeth over the lines of your stomach, biting and tasting. Your breathing is ragged and your hands grip and release my hair, my cheeks, my shoulders. I smile to myself at your conscious effort to restrain yourself or, at the least, your hands. My lips reach your waistband and I bring my fingers to the fastener at the top. I smile again when I realize that you're holding your breath despite the ragged beating of your heart that can be felt all over the surface of your skin. Quickly the button is released and the humid jeans are dragged down and away from your body. My lips return to find their last place. Stomach muscles are taut while thigh muscles quiver beneath my breasts which are pressed against them tightly. My lips dance across cool cotton breathing, tasting, memorizing. My hands grip the backs of your thighs forcing you closer to me. The quivering is pronounced and is almost a shiver. Cotton gone and a warm, musky heat invades my mind as my mouth finds its way to you. Your body sinks a bit and your mind fights to command it to remain standing. I pause to consider who might win and feel you straighten slightly. I continue my downward movement, creating a repeating rhythm with my mouth and tongue. My nails scratch the inside of your thighs enough to cause a second unique feeling. Not pain but definitely not gentle. Your uneven breath is my reward as I increase the tempo, the coordination of my hands. I pause to look up at your face. Your eyes are closed and your lips are slightly parted. I realize that I've stopped when your eyes open and meet mine and with remarkable speed I am on my back and, once again, find my arms restrained over my head by one of your hands as the other removes my jeans with ridiculous ease. Your hand forces my legs apart and I wrap them up and around your waist. You grasp my head and drag my mouth toward yours. Your lips conquer mine and your tongue forges its own path. I am lost in this kiss when I feel myself open to accept you. The unbelievable heat breaks the kiss and I bury my face in your neck concentrating on the closeness of our bodies, the need to be certain that there is no space between us while circling my hips around you, drawing you as deeply as possible into me. My hands flutter over your back, circle your waist, and tug gently at your hips. Their movements are involuntary as every cell is trained on the waves of movement and resulting needles of pleasure that result. We are moving faster, synchronized with the thrumming rain on the window. I am falling over the edge. Your breathing shifts and I feel your body tighten as you follow me over the edge. I am locked in your arms that hold me tightly against your chest. I can't raise my head and I'm not sure I want to. The physical feelings are tapering off leaving ripples of electric memory in their wake. I lower my legs and trace my nails over your back gently waiting for the physical feelings to be overtaken by residual emotion and pleasure. I risk a glance and am rewarded with a wry smile and read something in your eyes. Words are an anathema at this moment and I silently beg for no sound. A joke will spoil, a cautionary word will destroy. I wait. Resigned and wondering which you'll choose? You open your mouth, I tense and it closes over mine. I fall away again. Car Repairs "Sigh," said Helen as she sat in the car dealership. "When it rains it pours." Helen's car had thrown a clutch, and it was going to be a few hours before it would be ready to go. Not having a ride, she was stuck sitting in the reception area. As it was steaming hot outside, being in the air conditioning was quite pleasant. The reception area itself was actually pretty swanky. It had a bunch of longer couches arranged in a U shape with a massive flat screen TV for everyone to share and they even had free Wi-Fi! A home improvement show on the TV filling the silence as there were only a handful of people getting their cars fixed today. Looking around she noticed a very good looking man sitting straight across from her at the other end of the U. They were the only two in the room. He looked very familiar to her.. "No way!" she thought. "That has to be Alan Rickman!" Alan was dressed in shorts, t-shirt and sandals, very befitting the unusually hot day outside. He was slouching on the couch with his hands behind his head watching some re-run on the TV. Helen kept looking at him occasionally out of the corner of her eye, not believing her luck, and wondering if she had enough courage to ask him for his autograph. "My, he has quite a nice body for an older guy," she thought. His hair was salt and pepper gray, strong facial features, and his t-shirt was showing off his muscular chest to his advantage. Continuing down, she could see that he was wearing very baggy shorts, and had really nice muscles in his calves. He glanced over at her, and they made eye contact briefly, and he stared at her for a second or two, and smiled, going back to his show. She had dressed today in a short skirt and a light white low cut tank top with cute sandals. Feeling a bit daring today, she had decided not to wear her bra (they're soooo uncomfortable when it is hot and sticky). Unfortunately, she had not anticipated it would be so cool in the dealership. Helen looked down at herself briefly to break eye contact, and blushed furiously. The cold was definitely having an effect on her. Looking down, she could see that her nipples were standing straight out and were plainly visible through the thin fabric of her shirt! To make matters worse, the humidity had made the material more transparent than it was before, and she could detect the faint pink outlines of her areolas! Trying to be discrete, Helen pulled the top of her shirt out, trying to get it unstuck and not make her nipples so obvious. She looked over at Alan, and caught him glance away quickly pretending not to notice. Over the next few minutes, she caught him looking again and again. Self-conscious, she looked down at her shirt again. "OMG!" she thought to herself. Her left nipple had come completely out of her tank top and was completely erect, her areola even had goose bumps! The contrast between her tanned skin, and the little triangles of white skin surrounding her nipples made them even more obvious in the overhead lighting. It must have happened when she tried to adjust her shirt! Helen quickly drew an arm across her chest. Glancing up through her hair, she again caught Alan glance away... but she also noticed something else. There was movement in his shorts. It seemed like there was a pulse that was causing the shorts he was wearing to throb noticeably. "Oh my, I do believe he saw my nipple!" she thought as Alan shuffled on the couch a bit uncomfortably. As he shifted around, the legs of his shorts opened up more than they had been before. She could now see right up his shorts! Fairly certain that he wouldn't notice her looking through her hair if she kept her head down, she continued to watch. Through the leg of his shorts, she could see down the length of his leg. His hair was standing out a bit from the cold as well. Looking further up his leg, she could see his balls hanging loosely between his legs. They were large and round, and she watched in fascination as they moved up and down in their sac as he moved about. He made another adjustment, and to her delight she could see even more. She watched intently as the length of his penis slowly slid into view down the side of his leg. It came to a rest between his balls, giving her a full on view of her dream star's cock. "Ohhh," Helen moaned softly. This was unbelievable! How could she ever have gotten so lucky? She secretly continued to watch Alan's cock. The tan skin of his uncircumcised shaft came together in a bunch at the tip. It looked thick and heavy hanging between his legs. She saw him glance over to her again and take a long look at her exposed nipple, which she had forgotten to keep covered in the shock of her discovery. She saw his cock jump, and to her pleasure, it began to grow. His cock slowly grew even thicker, and longer, the veins just under the skin beginning to show. The longer it grew, the tighter the skin at the tip became, and eventually, his penis began to lift itself, bobbing up and down to his heartbeat. As it reached its full length, the foreskin was finally pulled back to reveal the very tip of his cock. His mushroom head was very pink, and glistening in the fluorescent lighting. The hole in the tip was open, and she watched as a single pearl of pre-cum pooled there and slowly stretched and dripped to the floor. Alan's shorts kept his cock it from extending up all the way, and rather it pushed itself outward, and to Helen's amazement, the very tip of his shaft extended past the leg of his shorts. Anyone walking by would be able to see the drippy tip of his cock! Helen felt a sudden flush, and she felt her pussy grow wet. Her nipples ached no longer from the cold, but from the need to be touched and licked. She started to breathe heavier, wondering what she should do. Not daring to look him in the eye, she continued to watch him through her hair. He was simply staring at her pink nipple, standing out straight still, long that before if at all possible. Helen made a decision that would prove to be one of the best she had ever made. Closing her eyes, she pretended to stretch. She raised her arms way over her head, and locked her fingers as if trying to work out a shoulder kink. She could feel her right nipple gently brushing the fabric of her shirt as her stretch lifted her breasts upwards. Her nipple caught on the neckline of her tanktop for just a second or two, bending slightly until inevitably it popped loose of her shirt causing her to shiver in pleasure. She grinned to herself as she stretched even further, ensuring both her nipples and much of her silky breasts were now plainly visible to anyone who wanted to see. Putting her arms down and turning her head to see the TV, she could see she was causing some discomfort for Alan. He was stroking his shaft through his shorts. His cock was straining against the confinement of his shorts, and she could see it dripping a steady stream of pre-cum onto the floor. "What a waste," she thought to herself. The sight of his rock hard cock was causing her pussy to get even wetter. She could smell her sex, and decided to see how much further she could go. Helen "accidentally" bumped her water bottle and knocked I to the floor. She got up and turned sideways to Alan, bending way over from the waist to pick up the bottle. This caused both of her beautiful breasts fall out of the top of her shirt to hang freely , swaying as she moved, her pink nipples pointing to the floor. Reaching for the bottle, she gave it a little flick trying to pick it up, and sent it rolling under the couch. Still bent at the waist, she took a deep breath and turned completely away from Alan reach under the couch. She heard Alan gasp behind her and could picture in her mind what he saw. She imagined him looking up the length of her sexy and tanned legs, past her knees and up to her beautiful ass. She knew what he was gasping at, for this morning when she got dressed, not only did she go braless, she left her knickers off too! Having bent over that far, the short skirt she was wearing wasn't doing anything more than framing her sexy and very naked behind. With a wicked grin, she knew that he was admiring her muscular but feminine derriere. He could see the darkened and puckered skin of her asshole, pinched tightly together. She could almost feel the heat of his gaze on her pussy. Standing with her legs mostly together, he could see the thin slit where her puffy lips joined together to hide the depths of her womanhood poking from between her legs. She peeked at him from under her arm as she bent over, and gasped herself. Alan had pulled his short leg all the way back, freeing his large cock completely. It was standing straight up now, and she watched for a moment as he took his hand and stroked it slowly, up and down. When he reached the tip, he would rub his hand in the juices there, and slick the rest of his cock with it. His shaft was rock hard, throbbing and glistening. Helen's legs wobbled a bit as she moaned and shivered. God he was gorgeous! She was unbelievably horny now, and her pussy was no longer just wet, it was dripping. She could feel her juices sliding down the length of her slit to drip onto the back of her legs. Her pussy was so hot now, and her nipples were crying out to be touched. Hidden from Alan, she took her free hand and gently pulled on nipple and almost came right there. She continued to play with her nipple, twisting it gently, and rolling it between her fingers. Her lips started to part as the inner folds of her pussy became engorged with blood. She was certain now that Alan could see the bright pink of her inner lips, sopping wet from her excitement. Unable to reach the bottle, Helen decided to tease Alan (and herself) even more. She got slowly down onto her knees, spread her legs, and bent so that she could see under the couch and reached way under it. The tips of her nipples brushed the cold floor and caused her to shiver uncontrollably. And she knew that Alan was getting the show of his life. By bending so low, she was showing everything she had to Alan. She could feel the coolness of the air conditioning blow across her pussy lips, their wetness making it even more noticeable. Her inner lips parted with a tiny sound, finally able to stretch out, revealing the depths of Helen's pussy. She could feel his eyes on her as her juices came dripping out of her hole onto the floor. Helen spent a moment reaching under the couch, again using her other hand to play with her nipples, massaging her breasts, beginning to lose track of her surroundings in her building orgasm. She felt a sudden heat on her pussy! Gasping, she felt the gentle touch of hot soft skin slowly sliding just between her inner lips. She started breathing more rapidly as her pussy reacted, enfolding the tip of Alan's cock, following the sensation as he slid it up and down the entire length of her pussy. Slowly his bulge would spread her lips, causing heat and slippery friction and her lips would close wetly as his cock moved up. When he reached her most private of entries, he would push forward a fraction, putting the very tip of his cock into her hole, then withdrawing to start all over again. The sensation was becoming unbearable, her pussy leaking like a tap, twisting both her nipples in both hands, the bottle long forgotten, she began to pant. "Please," she said. That was all Alan needed to hear. He slid his cock slowly up her folds to again rest against the edge of her steaming and very wet hole. She could feel him press forward, the walls of her pussy expanding to allow his large head entry. His shaft slide along the folds of her pussy, bringing them both intense pleasure, and lubricating his cock before it ever reached her hole. More and more of his cock slid in, filling her completely. She moaned out loud as the very tip of his cock rubbed against the deepest part of her pussy. "Oh god," she said. "Please, fuck me!" He withdrew the length of his cock quickly, a slurping sound coming from Helen's pussy, he grabbed her waist and rammed his hips forward. Her pussy suddenly filled by his hard hot cock, bottoming out deep in her pussy, his balls slapped against her clit was pure ecstasy. She could feel herself beginning to cum. Alan pulled out his cock and slammed it back in again, over and over. His hips were slamming into her bottom, his balls slapping against her pussy, and the audible sound of wetness as her pussy sucked his cock in and out. Helen with her hands on the floor now to keep from being thrown about was pushing back with all her might, meeting each of his thrusts with wild abandon. Her breasts were swinging freely, her nipples rubbing against the seat of the couch, adding even more fuel to the fire of her passion. In the distance of her ecstasy, she could hear Alan moaning as he continued to drive his cock into her pussy. Finally, Alan gave a loud moan, and pulled Helen so tight to him that his cock went deeper than she had thought ever possible. She screamed in passion as her body finally succumbed to a massive orgasm. She could feel the hot jet of Alan's cum hit the walls of her pussy and fill her. Her body shook in huge spasms, her skin tingling as she came, doubling the wetness they shared in her pussy. She could feel Alan's cock continue to contract as his cum was spent, causing her a second orgasm, while her body went through spasm after spasm. Finally, after a few minutes he body came back under her control she could still feel his softening cock in her pussy. She let out a small whimper as he backed away and his cock flopped from her pussy. She looked behind her to see Alan kneeling there with a gentle smile. Helen turned around to face him, leaning forward to grasp his softening shaft. It was wet in both of their cum, and she brought her hand to her lips and licked them. "Mmm," she thought, "I do so love the taste of cum." "Hi there," he said, "My name is Alan." "I know," she said with a big grin, and leaning forward looking up at him. "My name is Helen." and slid the tip of his cock between her lips.