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 most appreciated. Please send to artemis55@hotmail.com
This work is copyrighted by the author. You may download and keep one copy for your personal use as long as my byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on the copy. Any posting or reposting on a website or to a newsgroup requires my permission first (but I'll probably say yes). This should not, under any circumstances be used to make a profit by anyone other than the author
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.
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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 floor. "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 the paintwork. "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 to fix." "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 for him. 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 orgasmed. 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 keys." 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 artemis55@hotmail.com
This is distributed free of charge for your entertainment. It does take quite a lot of time and effort to write, type, edit and post a story. All I ask is that you take a couple of minutes to e-mail me, let me know that you've read this and perhaps give some reaction. Thank you.
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