He felt greasy like a slick engine as I touched his broad shoulders, my every caress similar to me tinkering away, turning a bolt. And then he revs and I’m buckled in, feeling the heat and wetness of his deep purr as he shifts gears, pushing me further down the highway of satisfaction.
Browsing: car mechanics
He slithered into me like a wrench in a tight engine, my body twisting and yielding to his hard, greasy, thrusts. Heat reached boiling as our slick cylinders moved faster and faster, until my scream of pleasure drowned out the clank and grind of the garage.
The engine was ready, his fists greased and slick with oil. As he ran his hands along the handles of the wrench, my heart raced. He stepped closer and I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the whispers of lust in the air. His lips parted and he looked deep into my eyes, that was all the invitation I needed. We were free to express our longing, hidden by the rumbles of the garage. My oil-covered heart plunged head first into an all-consuming passion.
It was hotter than a firestorm outside, and I was steaming too–for ol’ Rob, the new car mechanic at the corner garage. Our eyes held a silent but electrifying attraction for an instant, before I lamely asked about my air filter. But I could feel the heat from his smoldering gaze follow me around, his steel muscles bulging as he worked under the hood. We shared a shared a mutual unspoken understanding that soon the engine would be revving – and it wasn’t my car.
The sound of wrenching metal, the smell of oil and gasoline, the firm tender grip of as I’m pushed against the car, then the searing, passionate heat of mechanics bodies as we ravish our way around the garage. Greasy mess never felt so good.
In the brightly lit industrial garage, the hypnotic sound of the drill lulled my body, and my eyes were captivated by his taut frame and muscled arms as he worked. His powerful fingers expertly wiped down the engine block, leaving a layer of oiled sexiness in their wake as my arousal melted me into the floor.
The scent of oil and hot rubber was intoxicating as my eyes swept over the length I was sprawled across. I could feel my heart racing as I reached out to touch his hands that were as skilled at their craft as they were at my pleasure. He understood my needs and acted with expert finesse as he greased my gasket, deftly coaxing me into an orgasmic crescendo. What began as an ordinary service call ended as a mutual liberation of our mutually pleasured desires.