| WARNING: This includes sexually explicit material.
Please note any unfamiliar spellings and phrases may be due to the
fact I am English, not American.
Any and all comments, including constructive criticisms, would be
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first (but I'll probably say yes). This should not, under any
circumstances be used to make a profit by anyone other than the
I would like to thank Morgan for his help with editing and
americanising this story.
REPOST NOTE: First I was really happy with. Had a lot of
complaints about the end but a little cynicism does no harm. I would
have posted my orginal English version but my disk has become corrupted
and I'm to lazy to revise this version.
BTW Jeremy Clarkson is a well-known presenter of a car review
programme for the BBC.
JUST A SCRATCH
She would be the first to admit she had had slightly too much to drink
but she had been so bored. Even though it had been a business dinner
she had somehow hoped for some variety in the conversation, but she
had hoped in vain. Then, when she had at last thought they were
leaving, the boss had detained her boyfriend. Given the choice between
trying to make more stilted small talk with Mrs. Boss or waiting in
the car she had opted for the latter. So here she was, wandering
vaguely around a deserted multi-story parking garage in an alcoholic
haze wondering if she could remember where they had left the car, when
her gaze was attracted by a gleam of in the far corner.
A Lotus crouched in the corner, looking like an exotic creature
trapped in the mundane garage. It was the kind of car most people
dreamed of owning but knew the nearest they would probably ever get
would be to watch Jeremy Clarkson drool over it on or to see some
skimpily-clad sprawl over it on a calendar.
Walking over to it she ran a hand along the smooth shiny hood. To her
surprise no ear-splitting alarm shrilled in response to her touch. To
check, she pushed down on the bumper, so that the car bounced on it's
suspension, but still the alarm was silent. She knew the owner would
be annoyed when he discovered the car was unprotected, but it gave her
a chance to play.
Impulsively she decided to see just what it felt like to be one of
those calendar models. Kicking off her shoes, she climbed onto the
hood. She lay on it, her back pressing against the cool shiny metal,
then wriggled onto her stomach, kicking her legs in the air while her
hair spread out across the bonnet. She was just beginning to enjoy
herself when she heard someone clearing his throat in an
attention-getting manner. Sitting up, she saw a smiling
quizzically down at her. He must have been in his 40's with a long
lean body, an intelligent weathered face and a wicked gleam in his
eyes. Feeling slightly foolish she hastily slid off the hood to the
"Not quite what you usually expect to find on the hood of a Lotus," he
commented, looking amused. She smiled weakly at him, unsure what to
say. "Hope you've not scratched it," he added, bending down to check
"Oh no, I can't have." she replied, watching him anxiously. "I didn't
mean to do any damage, I just couldn't resist the impulse."
"I understand. It's a beautiful machine. Oh no, look, there's a
scratch." She looked where he was pointing and to her horror saw he
was right. "Hey don't look so worried, I'm sure it will be easy enough
"Do you really think so?" she asked hopefully.
"Yeah, and a tiny scratch like that isn't worth bothering the
insurance company about. I'm sure we can just settle it between us."
She gaped at him in surprise.
"You want me to give you some money?" she asked in bewilderment.
"Well that's one way to settle it. I did have another form of
compensation in mind though."
"What is that?" she queried cautiously.
"Well, you're a very sexy lady and I have had a very frustrating day.
So how about we come to some other arrangement. I fuck you on the hood
of this car you can't resist and we'll call it even," he suggested
outrageously, moving closer.
"What!" she gasped. She couldn't believe what he was suggesting.
Anyone, her boyfriend included, could come into the garage and see
them. At the idea a flutter of excitement ran through her. She knew
that under her facade of respectability the reckless she
had been was still hiding. And if her boyfriend did catch her, she
would be interested in his reaction. Anger, jealously, hurt, whatever
... at least his response would hopefully have some passion in it for
a change. For a moment longer she hesitated, then she saw his
challenging smile and gave in to her adventurous side.
"Why not?" she whispered. "This seems to be my night for acting on
impulse. Do you have a condom?" He dug in a pocket and triumphantly
produced one. Before she could change her mind she quickly reached
down and pulled her top over her head. His mouth crushed hers in a
passionate kiss as he expertly removed her bra. He drew back to admire
her breasts, smiling as her nipples hardened in the cool air. He
cupped their weight in his hands and closed his warm mouth over her
nipples, and stroking them with his tongue until she moaned
with pleasure. He rubbed his chin around her breasts, the feel of his
stubble on her sensitive skin making her gasp and writhe against him.
It only took a moment to slip her off and while his mouth
returned to tormenting her nipples his fingers began to stroke her
clit. She arched against the car, the tremors started by his agile
tongue and nimble fingers stealing the strength from her legs.
He slipped a finger inside her and smiled to feel how wet she was. Her
body was a whirl of conflicting sensations, cold hard metal at her
back, warm wet mouth on her front, cool firm fingers in her hot wet
pussy. He drew back and started to undo his trousers but she eagerly
helped him, sliding down the zip and unbuttoning his boxers to free
his hard cock. With one hand she stroked him and with the other
reached down to massage his balls while he opened the condom. He
quickly rolled it on and she eagerly spread her legs, more than ready
He shook his head and pulled her off the bonnet, then turned her
around and bent her over it. She gasped as her sensitized nipples were
pressed into the cold smooth metal, then gave a whimper of pleasure as
he thrust his cock into her, stretching and filling her in one smooth
movement. She arched her back, supporting her weight on her elbows as
he reached forward with one hand to grasp her breast. Then he began to
move, rhythmically pushing his cock into her while his clever fingers
massaged her nipples. She was unable to move in any way, trapped
between his hard body and the even harder metal of the car with no
choice but to let him set the pace. Her gasps and cries became louder
as her clenched around his cock and she writhed helplessly under
him as she came. He grasped her hips and relentlessly continued
thrusting deep inside her, his nails raking across her back as he
For a moment they both rested against the car exhausted. Then he
pulled his trousers back up and courteously helped her refasten her
bra. But when she bent to pick her up he forestalled her.
"I think I'll keep these as a souvenir." he said, slipping them into
his pocket. He leaned forward and gave her a quick hard kiss, then
turned and quickly walked over to a shabby Ford Escort. He gave her a
wicked, slightly apologetic, grin and winked as he slid into the
driver's seat. Amused, she watched him drive away, then jumped
guiltily as she heard her boyfriend's voice behind her.
"Sorry I was so long darling, I didn't mean to be but you know what
the boss is like. I hope you're not too cold. I forgot to give you the
He fished them out of his pocket and pressed the button. The Lotus
obediently beeped back at him. He glared at her reproachfully. "I
don't believe this, you forgot to set the alarm again. You have to be
careful with a car like this." He ran a caressing hand along the hood,
then froze. "There's a scratch!" he exclaimed in a strangled voice. "A
scratch! I'll have to take it down the garage tomorrow."
Unimpressed, she watched him as he mourned over his damaged
paint-work, cynically wondering if he would notice the scratches on
her body as quickly or with the same grief.
Copyright Vickie Morgan, 1998
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