Chapter Seven –
I took a deep breath, mincing towards the half-open garage door, squinting towards the hanging, hand-painted sign – “RICK'S AUTO REPAIR.” This seemed to be the right place. A bag of hot, meatball subs swinging in my arms, I slid under the open crack of the automatic metal door, the sweltering heat of the repair shop's quarters seeping into my exposed flesh. My eyebrows furrowed as I traced the source of the distant, disembodied voices of masculine laughter, seemingly pouring in from the back. I removed my cardigan and draped it over my arm, brushing off the stream of perspiration dribbling into the ample cleavage of my sweetheart neckline, and followed the sound of the voices.
I cleared my throat, knocking against the open door of what seemed to be the break room, greeted by the faces of middle-aged men in matching, grease-stained jumpsuits. My eyes landed on Trey, who was lurking in the corner, his foot propped up against the table. He was the youngest of the bunch, and easily the most effortlessly dreamy on the eyes, managing to look even more temptingly scrumptious in his black jumpsuit, a speck of grease smudged against his cheek. Trey straightened up in his chair immediately, swinging his legs off the table as he bounded off his chair in surprise, shushing the man's admittedly heartwarming catcalls.
“Hey, Katrina,” said Trey, the tips of his ears reddening, “What're you doing here?”
“Thought you and your friends might be hungry after your shift – hope you guys like meatball subs.”
“You're an angel!”
The men behind him stepped forward immediately, warmly accepting the sandwiches I offered them with jovial grins. They saluted Trey, flashing him meaningful winks and nudges as they filed out of the break room.
“Thanks again, sweetheart. See you tomorrow, Trey – don't have too much fun now, ya hear?”
Trey shooed them out of the room and closed the door behind him, a slow grin spreading out on his lips.
“You're spoiling us. Real nice of you though – how'd you know meatball subs were my favorite?”
I shrugged, my eyes glittering with subtle intent, “I have my sources.”
“So what can I do for you –”
Trey's eyes widened, relaxing against the wooden door as my arms slithered around his strong waist.
“Uh-uh,” I shook my head, dropping my voice to my sultriest tone as my fingers gently scratched against his chest, “After the way your tongue worked me over the last time – I think it's my turn to do a little something for you...”
Trey's head knocked against the door, his back straightening against the wooden surface as I dropped to my knees, my fingers swiftly blazing through the buttons of his jumpsuit, the black ink of his intricate sleeve tattoos stretched out over his hefty, toned biceps, gleaming underneath the bright beam of the bulb. I yanked down his boxers, my eyes narrowing at his thick, veined rod, the tip glistening with aroused anticipation. I wrapped my perfectly-painted lips over his cock and swooped down on his shaft, my thighs quivering in titillation at Trey's rumbling groans as I pleasured his muscle. His Adam's apple bobbing, he fitted his palm under my chin and guided himself out of my mouth, running a tongue over his lips as he gazed down at me, tantric fire burning in his eyes.
Without saying a word, he reached behind me and unzipped my sundress, sliding the garment down to my waist. He shook his head, eyeing the milky, heaving mounds of my soft breasts, imprisoned in a strapless bra. I squeaked, giggling as he grinned, whipping his fingers across my back, a rush of wind blowing against my flesh. My eyes widened in amazement as my bra magically unclasped, toppling down to the floor, my heavy breasts spilling out into view. The grin on his face faded, a look of desperate desire unfurling on his rugged features. He snaked his fingers around my wrist and led me towards the couch, laying out a clean towel over the dubious splotches.
I wiggled out of my dress and underwear, discarding them carelessly onto the floor as I climbed onto the couch, positioning myself on all fours. I peered behind my shoulder, narrowing my eyes teasingly as I swayed my hips from side to side, his burning gaze fixated on the vibrating ripples of my corpulent cheeks. My teeth staining as they sunk into my lips, I smacked myself across the left cheek, a tendering, coral tinge flourishing across my left, jiggling cheek.
“Come and get me, big boy.”
Trey's breaths were curt and jagged, his sweat bleeding through the cotton of his tank top as he mounted me, the tip of his cock ravenously grazing against my readied, lubricated slit. My shoulders slackened, my eyes squeezing shut as his length infiltrated the throbbing tightness of my crevice, our shivering moans of ecstasy intertwining. My pendulous breasts swung back and forth as his cock drilled in and out of my folds, frantically fingering the pearl of my clitoris. A shriek pealed out of my lips, my secreting juices slathering all over his pumping length.
“Fuck, I felt that. That's so fucking hot...”
Trey groaned, thrusting in and out of me violently before jerking out of me abruptly. I dropped to my knees, looking up at him with innocent eyes as I parted my lips, lipstick smeared all over my chin. His broad shoulders quavered as his shaft entered my mouth, his engorging cock expelling his warm, milky discharge down my throat. He pulled out of me, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he scrambled for his jumpsuit.
I giggled at Trey's sudden shame, accepting his hand as he helped me to my feet. My silent smile broadened across my face as he reached over to the ground, gathering my discarded garments. I lifted my legs over the opening of my sundress, my fingers gripped tightly around his shoulders for balance. As I raised my dress over my stomach, I froze, Trey reaching over from behind me to help me with my bra, the warmth of his breath soothingly beautiful against my collarbone.
Trey's fingers found mine, pulling me close behind him as he flipped off the light switch of the break room. He retrieved his helmet from the cluttered desk, smiling.
“Come on, I'll take you home.”
A glimmering flurry of exhilaration expanded beneath my chest as I slipped his extra helmet over my head and mounted the Ducati. I made myself comfortable on the stuffed seat of his motorbike, the vehicle quaking underneath me as it rumbled to life. Trey put on his helmet, winking at me through the open visor.
“Hold on tight. It's gonna be a wild ride.”
I grinned, latching my arms around his waist, yelling over the raucous engine.
“I can't wait,” I replied, my cheeks glowing as I slid my visor close, pressing my face against the denim of his back, my heart dancing in my chest.
THE END