A Visit to the Mechanic #EuphOff part 2

Blog UPDATE!!
I won! I won the #EuphOff!!!
Mamma would be so proud! This story right here is the BADDEST erotica - it's official! And so is the beautifully narrated Oleander Plume's entry (matron) Literally Literary. Thank you Mrs Jane from Chintz Curtain for all the saucy awful fun! x x x Click here for all the terrible delights :)

So here we are - the Euphoff part two.

I'm sure you'll agree, sometimes erotica can feel cheap and sordid - today though,  I've opted to share a more serious and educated tone to my work to show you just how sensitive, thoughtful and eloquent the genre can be...

A Visit to the Mechanic

He wipes oil blackened fingers on his blue overalls and winks at me from under the car bonnet.

“I’m here for my service,” I say, checking the floor for stray nuts and bolts before approaching him.

“I’ll say.” He closes the car and looks me up and down. “You look like you’re long overdue a good tinker under the hood.”

I tremble.

“I daresay I could do with a little oil change…”

He begins to undo his filthy overalls and comes closer.

“Yes, I bet you’re going to get my dipstick all slicked up with your dirty lubricant.”

Oh what he does to me with his talk! He puts his hands right up onto my airbags through my blouse and smears them black with his residue. I undo the rest of his buttons right down to where his wrench is certainly adjusting. Oh yes, it heats as my fingers quiver over it and becomes as hard as the steel toecaps he’s wearing.

“You don’t have any underwear on,” I gasp and slide my fingertips over the slippery hubcap of his crankshaft.

“Do you?” he asks, and I blush as juices leak from my throbbing love tunnel like power steering fluid all over my naked thighs.

“No.”

He sinks to his knees and lifts my skirt to inspect and part the soaked chamois leathers of my private lips.

“Indeed you don’t…” His grip is like a vice around my hips and he leans in, inhaling my lady perfume while his male musk drifts up to my watering mouth. He slides his key-like fingers all the way in to my willing ignition, unlocking and revving my need. I buck and twitch around him, desperate to touch his heavenly tool which I can see bobbing between his legs. His tongue is probing at my hard little sparkplug and skates around joyously making me shudder.

Forgive this piccy - I had to

have a drink after writing

this...

He pulls back and smiles up at me, his face shining with my love grease.

“Feeling a little greedy are we?” he says with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Yes, I’m always greedy for you. I want you to pump me hard with your big pneumatic breaker – separate my tyre bead from my trim, make me squeal like a broken fan-belt!”

“Why certainly,” he says and pulls me to the concrete floor, strewn with dirt and nuts and oil. I’m panting and wheezing as he hoists my legs apart and jacks my pelvis up on his forearm to line me up perfectly for invasion.

“Now I’m going to hit the gas.”

“Yes, yes, pull up to my bumper, baby, drive it in between.”

Oh and he does, he does, over and over he accelerates and breaks, ramming and handbrake turning me into the oblivion.

When we’re finished, he wipes down my bodywork with some blue garage tissue.

As I’m righting myself to leave, he hands me my log book.

“Come back next week,” he says, “We’ve got to keep up a full service history.”

Big love and thanks to Behind the Chintz Curtain for pulling us all off (matron) to her place for this bad erotica festival of filthy joy! And to those who begged for another seeing to... you know who you are Ms Plume!

Ummm... so... my apologies to Grace Jones - I love you Ms Jones!!!!

Dare you flick the bean for more...?