His cock finds its target and I begin to wail, not wanting it to end now I’m finally here, but knowing there is much more to come, and grateful for that. A few big slams up into me bring me to that crowning moment and I lose myself underneath that glorious male body, impaled on his triumphant weapon, brought down to my true level by my own base lusts. He empties himself inside me and dismounts straight away, mindful of my instructions in the brief I sent the agency. No billing. No cooing. Just predatory, animalistic sex in the dirt.
Still bent over the bonnet, I try to catch a breath or two, feeling his cockload trickle down my thighs for all to see.
Sean barks a laugh. ‘She is fucked, man,’ he says. ‘How was she, Big Guy?’
‘Tight. But she won’t be by the time we’ve finished, I guess. And really, really wet. Wettest snatch I’ve had in a long time. She loves it. Give her a minute and you can have a go – make up your own mind.’
‘I want her to suck me off,’ says Sean.
‘How about she sucks you off while I’m fucking her?’ suggest the gipsyish man. ‘I don’t know if I can wait much longer.’
‘Deal,’ says Sean. ‘Shall I get the rug from the office?’
‘Yeah. And a few cushions. Let’s have her on the floor next.’
‘Sounds like a show,’ says Mr Handsome, taking a seat at his desk and leaning back, now all cleaned up and zipped again. ‘You ready for that, princess? A nice long fuck with your mouth full?’
‘I … think so,’ I say warily. My strength is slowly returning, but these two will have to take it a bit easier than their boss if I don’t want to be red raw before lunchtime.
‘Right. Can you stand up? Walk? Eamonn, do you want to get a bit of tissue and clean her up before you put yourself in there? She’s dripping.’
I am subjected to the curly-haired Eamonn’s tender attentions to my coated thighs and pussy with a length of kitchen towel before he helps me to my still-booted feet and walks me slowly over to a tartan wool rug festooned with various dusty old pillows.
‘Now, I’m going to get comfortable here, Princess,’ he tells me, lying himself down on the pillows. ‘And when I’ve done that, you’re going to get my hard cock out and take a ride on it. A good, long, hard ride. Are you ready for that?’
‘Yah,’ I say, a little dizzily, still feeling the after-effects of Mr Handsome’s brisk technique.
‘And when you’re in the saddle, all ready for a good canter, Sean here is going to kneel down and feed you your oats.’
I rather like this equine analogy. It is turning me on more than I imagined such talk would. I am a filly, a mare, to be put through her paces and stabled, steaming from the gallop, afterwards. I want to whinny. But I restrain myself, opting instead to crouch down and unzip Eamonn’s overall to the crotch, pushing up the faded T-shirt underneath so I can see a chest scattered with wiry black hairs. His boxers cannot conceal the towering erection beneath, so I skim the elastic over it and take a good look. If I am going to be a horse today, it’s just as well that my partner in pony play is hung like one.
‘Gosh!’ I say.
He laughs heartily. ‘Gosh, you say. Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. Now get on board for your second hard fuck of the morning. What are you waiting for?’
I straddle his still-overalled legs, feeling the rough material chafe my calves, and lower myself carefully down. I need to take this first bit slowly, and I wince a bit when the broad bulb of his cock tip makes its entrance inside my once-fucked passage.
‘Nice,’ he gasps, putting out a hand to steady my hips. ‘Nice and tight still. Get down, then. Right down.’
I shimmy down the pole, easing him in, feeling every inch spread and broaden my poor penetrated channel. He is very thick and long, and it seems to take a long time to accommodate his full dimensions. Once I eventually reach his root, I feel almost unable to move, so split and filled I need a minute to get used to the strange satiety of it.
‘Got you now,’ he crows, in a strained voice. ‘You’re going nowhere, lady, except up and down on my big fat cock. Now get to work.’
I try an experimental jiggle, and it doesn’t kill me, so I go further, grinding my pussy into his crotch, rocking back and forth, moving up only a little, but still getting a whole world of penetration sensation from my small circlings.
‘You’re so very huge,’ I explain, though I know he didn’t ask me to. ‘I can only just …’
‘You’ll need to work harder than that,’ Eamonn warns me. ‘I want bouncing tits.’
‘So do I,’ says Mr Handsome from over on the desk, somewhere to our right. I squint over at him, seeing that his is licking the side of his mouth, intent with concentration on our humping manoeuvres. ‘And get that arse up nice and high. I want to see you fucking yourself on that cock. Sean, fill her mouth. Perhaps you can give her the energy she’s going to need.’
Sean strips eagerly, getting his overall all the way off before approaching me with cock drawn, pointing at me square in the face.
‘Open wide,’ he croons, dropping to his knees, and I obey, letting him guide his salty length into my waiting mouth.
‘Now that looks filthy,’ comments Mr Handsome, and I can just about see, blurrily, that he is getting hard again, his hand cupped over his crotch. ‘I like it a lot.’
It is not the easiest of rhythms to establish – sucking on one shaft while another mines my pussy – but we manage to get up a pace we can all work with. Sean helps by feeding me, rather than making me hold his cock, while Eamonn wants me to use my hands to squeeze my tits. I get accustomed to his outsizeness in the end, and I start to bump, up and down, bending low, crushing my nipples into his face, then straightening up proudly, letting hair and breasts fly.
‘Horny, this is horny stuff,’ commentates Mr Handsome, his voice getting ever rougher and growlier. ‘I want to bring myself off, but I have to save some for later. Fuck. I might have to go outside for a minute.’
He hobbles off, leaving the three of us to our base delights, Sean bobbing and thrusting into my mouth while Eamonn holds me firmly on his prong, keeping me exactly where I belong.
Sean, the younger man, is first to lose his self-control; abruptly and with a sulky moan of disappointment at not lasting longer, he pours his essence into my grateful throat and releases my mouth from its bondage. I continue my quest to give Eamonn satisfaction, giving my muscles an intensive workout, squeezing and stretching until I feel I am about to hit a wall, and then the sudden scrabbling of his hand on my clit gives away the closeness of his orgasm, and I let myself go, let myself fall and slump, twitching and groaning on his chest, racing to the finish line together while the steam rises from us.
‘That’s it, that’s it,’ he gabbles, clamping my hips and holding me down for the final rush. ‘What a ride. Fuck me, what a ride.’
I clamber off, my mouth tasting of one man’s spunk, while another’s washes around my pussy. I feel utterly bad, the baddest of the bad, total trash. This is what I was after – this feeling. This self-obliteration. Now I have tasted it, I can go back and serve my country. But of course, it isn’t over yet. I need feeding and watering, but there is one more twist in the tale to come.
Mr Handsome returns, a little shamefaced but no longer sporting the world’s most obvious erection. ‘I missed the money shot, did I?’ he asks, frowning. ‘Typical. Let’s have a look at her.’
He comes and towers over my limp body. ‘Get a mouthful, did you?’
I nod weakly. He crouches down, peering over one thigh to get a good look at my recovering pussy. ‘Christ, you really got it, girl,’ he says, awestruck. ‘Great job, Eamonn. I bet she can’t see straight.’
‘Not on your life,’ he says, sitting up and grinning. ‘Jeez, man, I’m starving. Will we have lunch now?’
‘Lady Muck here’s already eaten,’ says Mr Handsome with a cruel grin. ‘Ah, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. Sean, can you go over the shop and get us something to eat? And make it substantial. Some of us have an afternoon’s work ahead of us.’ He gives my thigh a light slap. ‘Don’t we, Princess?’ He winks and I let my eyes shut, ready to sleep for a thousand years.
But a millennium of sleep is not to be given to me. Instead I get a cheeseburger, fries and a thick strawberry milkshake.
‘You’re going to need the calories,’ says Mr Handsome. ‘Speaking of which, I’d better get going. I have a costume change to organise.’
He kisses the top of my head and saunters off, leaving me to masticate my fast food in the company of Eamonn and Sean.
‘Do you know,’ I say lazily, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever eaten from one of these restaurants before. It’s awfully salty, isn’t it, but rather satisfying.’
Sean and Eamonn snort. ‘Is that the food you’re talking about?’
‘Of course – oh! Gosh! Yes, that did sound rather rude, didn’t it? Out of context, I mean.’
‘Do you mind my asking,’ Eamonn opens, ‘what makes you want to do this kind of thing? You speak like a rich lady, but you want this down and dirty stuff.’
‘I’ve never been allowed to be down and dirty,’ I tell him, not wanting to give too much away to this complete stranger, even though I’m assured of the absolute discretion of everyone on the agency payroll. ‘I suppose it’s the appeal of the forbidden.’
‘I suppose so. Me, I’m really a mechanic, in real life. So I like the idea of clean sheets and shagging in the shower. Perhaps there’s something in that.’
‘Is this not a turn on for you at all then? Getting down in the garage?’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You’re a fine-looking woman and all. But I suppose I’d rather do a thing in comfort than not.’
‘Well, yes. I’m not averse to a comfortable bed either. It’s just that this is my fantasy. A marvellous fantasy. I’m thoroughly enjoying it. Even though I think I might need to rest my private area for a while …’ I smile to myself, remembering the last part of my orders. Resting the private area won’t necessarily be a problem.
‘Well, then, I suppose we’d better get on with it,’ says Eamonn, zipping himself up and tossing the remnants of the food packaging into the bin in the corner of the garage. ‘Come on, Sean. We’ve got to hose her down.’
Sean leaps up and grabs a length of rubber coiled on the floor while Eamonn heads for the taps.
‘It isn’t going to be too cold, is it?’ I am suddenly rather fearful. I strip off my remaining clothes and take my place on the dirty concrete, ready for my DIY shower. A jet of water – thankfully quite warm – arcs through the air and splashes over my shoulders, then moves lower to blast my breasts and belly. I hop about, squealing and laughing beneath the heavy pressure of the water, letting Sean soak me, then letting him hold me still with one hand while he gives my pussy a vigorous cleansing.
‘Ready for anything now, aren’t you?’ Eamonn hands me a towel and lets me rub myself dry. ‘You’re to get that hooker gear back on now and wait for our next customer. Why don’t you sit on the desk with your legs nice and wide open, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.’
‘Well … he
will
get the wrong idea if I sit like that … won’t he?’ I pull on the unforgiving lycra once more, knowing that my make-up is utterly wrecked and not caring a jot.
‘No, he’ll get the right idea – the idea that you’re available for fucking, any time, any place, by anybody.’ Eamonn helps me buckle my lurid belt, running his hands over my hips in the process. ‘As I well know.’
I’m somewhat relieved that Mr Handsome, with his manageable cock, has taken responsibility for my final fling. I’m not sure I could manage Eamonn’s monster again. Especially considering what I have in mind.
I take my position, sprawling on the desk in a most unladylike pose, while Eamonn and Sean don visors, pick up some metal thing or other and … oh, what do you know … they actually
are
mechanics.
They are still respraying the car when I pick up the sound of something revving furiously outside the front doors.
‘Boys! I say, boys!’ I try to attract their attention, but their sprayers are noisy and they don’t notice at first, until I get up on the desk and begin to dance an energetic striptease number.
‘Jesus, will you look at that!’ Eamonn switches off the spray and stares. ‘Was that in the script?’
Sean, slack-jawed and close to drooling, just shakes his head.
‘Listen!’ I urge them. The noise, like an angry beast waiting to break through the doors and slaughter us, persists. It is, of course, the happy, happy sound of a motorcycle engine. I revert to my original pose, my face wreathed in anticipatory smiles. This might be my favourite part of the whole thing.
Eamonn wrenches off his visor and opens the double doors to admit a sleek, shining bastard of a motorbike, driven by a sleek, shining bastard in neck-to-toe tight black leather.
It is all I can do not to whoop and clap my hands, but I maintain my thighs-akimbo stance, while the biker removes his helmet to reveal himself as, surprise surprise, Mr Handsome. I liked the overalls, but the leathers are even better, moulded to his body in second skin perfection. His backside is taut and smooth, curving in to a long straight back and broad shoulders. I don’t care about the ragged state I’m in; I want him. Badly.
‘Can I help you at all?’ Eamonn asks. He is a bad actor, the lines coming out unconvincingly.
‘Maybe.’ Mr Handsome is better. He looks over at me and winks. ‘I’ve come for a spare part for my bike.’
‘Oh, right, what is it you’re after? The bike looks in good nick to me.’
‘The bike’s fine, but what I really need is a dirty slut for the pillion. Would you happen to have one of those in stock?’
‘Well, sir, I think you’re in luck!’ exclaims Eamonn delightedly. ‘I’ve a top of the range model for you, if you’re interested. Take a look and see if it’ll do for you.’
He follows the line of Eamonn’s outstretched arm, walking over to me, inspecting me with fingers stroking his chin. ‘Looks rough enough,’ he says. ‘Looks second-hand, actually. Is this one used or new?’
‘Used, I have to admit. But still in tip-top condition.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that. Can I take a good look all over?’
‘Sure. Stand up, slut.’
I rise to my feet, hip thrust out, trying not to look sulky or combative, which is my surprising natural reaction to this scenario.