Erotica Storytime #1 - Three Men and a Tiny Lady (3 page)

“Yes,” she said. “I'm here to look at the car. Let's do that.”

The mechanic was in front of her now, extending a dirty-looking hand. She jumped, startled by his speed, and allowed him to shake her hand. Some of his fingers were darkened from work in the garage, but they were clean. Her stomach grumbled at his touch, and her nipples grew hard beneath her silk blouse. He was as attractive now as she remembered, from the first time she saw him. Master had allowed her to tag along to pick up the towncar, and there he'd been. So human, but lean and strong, carrying heavy equipment as though the weight was nothing.

He stared, his gaze touching her smooth face, her ample breasts, her womanly hips, and those long, long legs that went on forever. Could he place her age? She knew she was a mystery to men. She walked with the confidence of someone who'd lived for decades, but her eyes had no lines. Her lips were youthful, swelling with desire even as they stood there in the yard. She was ancient, in part, but she was also a newborn, her mortal life wiped clean.

The mechanic had dark eyebrows and thick, black hair that fell past high cheekbones. His eyes were a contrast, piercing blue, and he had an elegant bone structure—the kind of man who's practically pretty. She felt a rush of lust course through her body and pool between her legs.

She still had her hand in his, and both hands were shifting toward her, as though his fingers sought her pussy. She wanted to experience this gorgeous man, to know him, in so many ways, but first she wanted his fingers to slide along the wet, pink lips of her pussy. He could bury his fingers within her, making her moan with first one digit and then two.

The young man looked down sheepishly at his clothes, then hers. Surely he noticed her suit cost more than the car she was there to look at. Despite his rough appearance, though, everything about his tight-fitting T-shirt and threadbare jeans was perfect. He was the kind of man that a creature like her fantasized about daily. Master would never allow her to touch a man, or even stare too long, yet here they were.

Their hands pulled apart, and his eyes seemed to flicker. They were green now.

“Car's back in here,” he said. A garage door shook and groaned open. Far away down the quiet street, a dog barked.

The woman winced, and the dog whined and ceased its noise.

The mechanic disappeared into the dark cavern of the garage.

She wondered, what were
his
plans? He'd asked over the phone if she'd be coming alone. Was he the type to lure a woman into his garage and seduce her? Was he the type to yank up a woman's skirt, lay her back on the hood of a restored car, and thrust his thick fingers into her pussy? Would he bury his face between her legs, licking at her slick cunt as he fingered her?

Master would be so angry. The thought of Master's face when she got home reeking of another man's essence—it made her panties slick. She didn't care about the consequences. Tonight her fantasies were going to become real.

She followed him into the garage. Shapes crawled along her peripheral vision as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. A fluorescent overhead light flickered on.

“What the hell!” the man yelled, clawing at his face.

Her muscles tensed and excitement charged through her veins. She readied herself to spring on him before he escaped.

But it was a false alarm. He hadn't figured out what she was after all.

“Spiderwebs,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Excuse my language Ma'am, I just hate those things.”

“Understandable.” She tried her best to smile warmly, though her coiled tail was twitching frantically where it was rolled up, as tight as her hair in the bun. She kept her tone light, her accent sweet and Southern. “Yes, spiderwebs are the worst. You know, I had the biggest darn spiderweb just last night, out on my back veranda. I went out to turn on the irrigation sprinklers and wouldn't you know it, a big old spider caught me in her web.”
That's right, just keep talking
, she thought. Master was right about the Southern accent soothing people.

He rubbed the webbing off his taut, muscular arms, saying, “How'd you know the spider wasn't a feller?”

“You know, you're absolutely right. It could have been a gentleman spider. Boy, he must have been surprised. I mean, there he was, waiting to nab some innocent prey, and along came little ol' me.”

The mechanic raised an eyebrow. “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn't.”

A few seconds of silence passed, as quiet as eternity was long.

“Shall I start it up?” He opened the door of the Datsun and slid behind the wheel.

“No, don't bother.” She licked her lips as she studied the crotch of his tight jeans. The area was definitely fuller in appearance than when she'd first arrived. Soon she'd have those clothes off, though. Soon she'd see for herself, stroking him and then sucking him. She'd suck him so gently and tenderly, he'd begged her to suck harder, and she wouldn't. She would lick him and hold him back until he threatened to leave her, but he wouldn't leave. Once they started, neither would want to stop until one was dead.

* end of preview *

Erotica Storytime #2 - Taken by Her Mechanic - by Tori Kiss

is available now