A Problem is Soon Solved

The canal side properties and the scenery of her home city are only too familiar, but she is at a loss from where to go to get her far from fashionable, but useful, bicycle mended. Some would call it a 'granny bike', upright, heavy, and even with a small rack fixed on the handlebars in which she has put her straw bag that contains her purse and iPhone.

'Just where am I going to get the flat tyre fixed?' Annet mutters, as she stands at the edge of the pavement and looks up and down the narrow roadway that flanks the canal, the canopies of the trees offering some shelter from the warmth of the sun. The heat still seems to rise from the pavement slabs and she's relieved that her short denim ski is light and airy, her cowl-necked white T-shirt is cool.

She walks on, pushing her bicycle, and is relieved to see a sign poking out from a building's frontage, the shopfront set between two staircases that lead up, in short flights, to a heavy front door to the homes of the rich.

'Thank God!' she mutters, although the place looks very small. 'Art on Two Wheels' the sign says. She realizes, instantly, that in this part of Amsterdam, students get their wrecks of a bicycle fixed for a low charge. She's not a student, but an office worker and she is through with her short day and she may be fortunate not to be charged too much. Battered examples, some garishly painted, of the shop's stock in trade are chained to a canal-side tree. 'Let's see what the cost and the problem is.'

The bike is put against a railing and is secured with a colourful locking cable and she twists the combination a few turns. Inside, and standing behind a battered counter with a glass top and front, she sees a wizened old guy.

'What can I do for you, miss?' he smiles, his voice gravelly.

'Hello, mister, I have a flat tyre and it is too far for me to walk home. Can I wait here while it's fixed?'

'I'm sure you can, although our repair shop is round the next corner. You can't miss it, the sign hangs over the door. My son, Rob, deals with all the technical stuff...I'm not as good as I once was.' He smiles. 'Rob's the man to help you.'

His attention is drawn away from her and to other customers.

She finds it soon enough, the sign mounted on a metal pole that is fixed to the wall. It is placed above two almost bare wooden doors, the paint on them all but gone, and she manoeuvres her bicycle into the gloomy interior. As her eyes adjust to the light she sees a rusty bicycle hanging on chains and hooks from the ceiling.

But of Rob, there is no sign. Nor is there a bell or any means to let Rob know of her presence.

'Hello, is anyone in there?'

'Yes, there is, and I'll be with you in a moment!'

Annet wonders to whom the deep voice belongs and the metallic fringe curtain, that she has seen in a doorway, rustles open. A young man with slicked-back brown hair peers her way and smiles in approval.

'Sorry to keep you waiting, lady, but I had just gone into the back room and kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Hearing you come in startled me and I spilled it. Now my pants are covered in it.'

He was only mildly embarrassed to say it as he looked down at the state of his trousers.

'I didn't hear any bell...' Annet mutters and tries not to smile at the situation she finds herself in. A good-looking young guy, with a slender hollow-cheeked face and square jaw, his look back at her intense, is getting to her and she feels it. He's tall and well built, his T-shirt taut on his body, his arms strong. He's no grease monkey fixing bicycles, but that is clearly what he does here.

'The bell's in the back room...announces if someone's come in.' He smiles and keeps on looking her way. 'I'm Rob...Rob Jansen. My father and I run this place...'

'Yes, I know. He said that before he sent me round here to you. I'm Annet...'

'I'm pleased to meet you, Annet.' The woman's slender and curvy, and she is blessed with a neat hourglass figure, her nicely toned thighs angled back from her knees more than he has noticed on other women. He notices an almost balletic spring in her step, her tan leather ballerina pumps looking stylish even if they're worn with a denim skirt and a white V-neck T-shirt with cropped sleeves. She fills it nicely and a long-chained flapper necklace sets it all off to great, casual, effect. 'I'll be with you in a moment...have a spare pair of trousers to change into. But, tell me what's the problem?'

'A flat tyre...'

'Yes, so I see now. I can fix it after checking, or else it may mean a new inner tube.'

Annet sighs. 'I just want a simple repair so that I can get on my way again, please.' They have moved to stand by her bike that leans against a workbench and she almost feels the strength in the guy beside her.

'Well?'

'You can change whatever is needed but may I wait here while you do that? I don't want the hassle of walking home only to come back later...mister Jansen.'

'I understand, Annet. Not even the students around here call me by my surname and I sure don't want you doing that. I'm Rob...the guy who washed his hands to make them clean only to make his pants dirty with that coffee I spilled.' He steps away from her. 'Sure, you can stay. A change of tyre is soon done and I don't always have company when I'm doing that.'

He's flirting with me, Annet thinks, and when Rob smiles his beautifully white and even teeth appear from behind his full, straight, lips. He's amusing in his ways and she watches as the bike he had been working on is lifted away and her old contraption is hung in its place. He grabs a work stool and puts paper towels on it.

'You can sit on that while I quickly get changed. It's not so rushed today. I'll soon be with you again, promise.'

He looks back and sees her sitting on that stool, her toned, gangly, legs outstretched. Jeez, he thinks, she looks good; so slender and graceful in her movements. That Annet is not like the many student chicks that walk in with their wrecks of a bike and no money to spend on them. Possessed by the look of her, he opens and closes a door that leads off the small kitchen, and he does so noisily. It is then left open and she wonders if Rob has noticed her curiosity in seeing what he is doing and has left the door ajar on purpose.

Rob sifts through old and washed work clothes that have been placed on a shelf. He's unaware of her watching him through the half-open door and that she can see him slip off the sodden pants to reveal the skimpiest of pale blue pouch briefs that are like a second skin.

Annet shivers on seeing the guy. He must know that she's watching him as those briefs are pulled down.

She languishes in her thoughts of him and what can be seen. Oh, how strong and taut his legs and butt are, how lean his body is, and that she has time to take pleasure in seeing. How is she to deal with the feelings that are aroused in her and for a young guy she doesn't even know? Darn it, this is crazy what she's feeling! But, it makes her feel warm and provokes her to cherish the moment. Rob mustn't know what has been aroused in her, deliberately or not.

And then...and then it happens.

A pair of dry underpants fall out of his hands and onto the floor of the small kitchenette. Annet feels she would hear a pin drop; it's suddenly so quiet and tense as she watches Rob lean forward to pick them up. His butt cheeks tense, and so do his thigh muscles, and she gets a glimpse of his swinging dick and the heavy sag of his sac, the brownish-blonde hair on his groin to be seen quite clearly.

'So well made,' she whispers as the striptease goes on before her, through that half-open door. It's a wonder that no one else has come into the workshop. It is indeed a quiet day for him, for them perhaps. 'Oops, how careless!'

He seems to have heard her murmur of appreciation and soft laugh of dismay to be with him at a moment like this. She has spoken out instinctively and he has heard her, for Rob looks round, over his shoulder at her, and notices that the door to his kitchenette is partially open and...and he meets her gaze upon him.

Oh, how embarrassing he must think. But no, he brazens it out.

'Well now, Annet...have you seen me or not enough? I had no idea the door had fallen open and that you could see me getting changed. Do I close it or do you want to come here and have a really good look? Forget the bike for a moment.'

Man is he bold. She hadn't expected the reaction she now has to deal with. But she finds him ragingly attractive, so darned confident and unembarrassed by what she can see of him. His look back at her now is only too appraising and she feels a thrill course through her belly, the first flush of moisture in her pussy that the sight of his swaying prick has aroused in her. She feels a little giddy at the prospect of spontaneous sex with the guy.

She does not answer him. Words aren't needed as she gets up from the rickety stool and goes to him. It's impetuous and unusual behaviour for her. But she's been taken by the guy's look upon her.

'Put the door on the latch....turn the sign to say, 'closed for now'. She does as he asks and is soon with him. 'You're a looker, Annet. May I tell you that?'

She shrugs with a soft disbelieving laugh. The bike fixer's half-naked and she's with him. 'You may say it, but I think they're words that come easily to you...and often. Am I right?'

'Plenty of pretty students pass by here, but don't you go thinking that I spill coffee over myself out of some habit or to get into them,' he smiles, his underpants still in his grip as Rob stands before her. 'It's a nice trick but it's not one that I play on anyone. You've got to me...simple as that.'

'I spoke out what was on my mind.'

'And what else is on your mind now?' he murmurs, giving her an appraising and appreciative glance. A strong arm has encircled her waist and she is drawn to him and he breathes in the freshness of her hair. He kisses it and presses his lips to her forehead.

'You wear a woman's perfume, discreet and delicate,' he says. 'Let me kiss you.'

His mouth tastes fresh. He must have sucked on a mint to take away the taste of the coffee he had barely begun to drink. Their kisses deepen, tongues dart and swirl as Rob holds her in his embrace and she pushes forward, feels that length of flesh press against her belly. She doesn't say anything of what is clearly on both of their minds now. They want to pursue an impetuous, no-nonsense, fuck while they have the chance to do that. She sure knows and feels it in the press of his prick against her belly, his hands on her hips to keep them close.

'You can tell me what you want from this,' she tells him and feels Rob's hands glide over her hips before she pulls her skirt up to her waist. His hand caresses her thighs and she trembles, surrenders to deeper kisses as he touches her spot, and presses against her slit, her panties already moist.

'All of it!' she gasps as he lifts her and she is made to sit on the rough surface of the small kitchen worktop.

'You wonder! Your panties are wet and what else?' His fingers tug aside her panties and she lifts her hips, helps him to slip them over her legs, and then throws them to the floor. Rob leans in, trails kisses over her thighs as his fingers smooth over her slit. 'Your pussy's so wet...the lips glisten, Annet. Are you going without...because I can't believe that!'

'That's my business, not yours!'

'True, that so true woman.'

How he talks to her, touches her, makes her feel so alive, ecstatic from the wantonness of the moment. It will be uncomplicated, hot, and ragingly pleasurable. He'll fill her, of that she has no doubt.

'Oh, lick and eat me out...taste me...just do it!'

She urges him on in taking her with his mouth and fingers, the press and lick of his tongue as she feels his mouth cover her slit, to prod and lick into her love hole and all she can do is grip his head and guide him. She also needs to keep her balance as he takes her in this way. Little darts and rills of pleasure grip her body, the poke and swirl of his tongue, the tip tantalising her clit, impossible to stop. Nor does she want him to do that.

'You darling...you're going to solve two problems at once for me!' she gasps. 'Yes...yes...work on my clit!'

'You taste so good Annet!' she hears him groan as she licks and sucks. His tongue seems to slide over her, to send thrills coursing through her body as he repeats these claims upon her time and time again.

'That feels wonderful...crazy...utterly crazy!' she yelps, bucking her hips to meet his claims. 'Go on...go on...I'm going to cum!'

Her body shudders from the rushes of her orgasm that streak through her and makes her vagina muscles spasm around his fingers. She groans in uncommon pleasure that has been so quickly discovered and she needs time to come down from her intense high. But there is no time to come down from her high, because she feels Rob ease away from her, a fingertip caress offered o her thighs.

She gapes as a condom packet is taken from a wall cupboard and is torn open, the sheath soon unrolled onto his bloated, arcing, penis.

'Lovely girl, do you want it gentle or hard?' he leers, a smile playing at the corners of his full lips.

'Just go slowly until we get used to the idea of this!' she calls out, reaching for him as he stands before her, his penis tip grazing her pussy's lips and Rob's eyes taking in just where she will take him, those pink lips glistening and soon parting as he glides over them before the domed tip is lost in her. 'Fuck, that feels crazy...so good! Fill me, Rob, you crazy, horny, darling!'

She's not one for dirty talk but what he's soon doing to her is unreal. Her legs are wrapped around his waist and he swirls and rocks, pushes in, and eases away until only the tip of his long prick is at her opening, then he drives in with short fast strokes then one long one that has her clawing at his back. His hands grope her breasts, her nipples now hard against the cotton fabric of her T-shirt and they are there for him to claim, his lips and long fingers working them. She wants to work his driving prick but she's lost in what he does and this is a fuck-fest, not a lover's tryst of giving and sharing. He wanted it wild and she's giving in to him.

'You feel so good around me, Annet, so good!' he grunts.

Her body shakes from the shocks of him bumping against her, the slippery slide of his penis in and out of her pussy, the muscles tiring from seeking to control him and his movements. The young guy's so manly and makes her feel like they're two animals in the forest, copulating on instinct and then parting. Only the condom prevents the likely outcome of their rutting. They gasp for shared breaths as they kiss in acceptance of what is happening, They groan in pleasure. And then she feels it again, the rising tide of an approaching orgasm as she feels the edge of the worktop dig into her skin, then the soaring pleasure of her climax.

It overwhelms them both, and her calls to him are soon answered.

'Go on, come again for me, you darling! I will too!'

She quivers and shudders, feels her pussy's walls claim that invading prick and tug on it for the last few moments as she feels the bolts of his cum fill that slicked sheath of latex that caresses her pussy's walls, the tip bumping her so very deep.

'You wonder...you wonder! You find me in no time at all!' she gasps before meeting tender kisses on her lips, her eyes, then the press of his mouth to her breasts. He's wanted all of her and she's given as much as she can. She is lifted from her seat and soon impaled upon him, basking in his lingering claims upon her. 'That was crazy!'

'I think so too and it has been wonderful, Annet....how you came on to me so quickly. It sure doesn't happen like this for me.'

They cling to each other a while longer as they come down from their shared highs of pleasure and fulfilment. Rob eases her off him, slowly, and steps away.

'It's not luxurious but you can clean up in here,' she hears him tell her. Annet hears the flush of the toilet in a small bathroom that's as clean as she dared to expect in a place like this.

They're soon tidy, cleaned up, and revert to what brought her here in the first place.

'Here's the problem!' he laughs and looks over to her as Annet is again seated on the wooden stool. How wonderful she looks, how wonderful her slender legs are and that cycling around the city has toned, her skin sleek. 'The valve was loose, that's all. Hey, you haven't got a pump!'

'I know, that's why I topped by.'

'And nothing more?' he grins. 'I won't charge you for either the fix or the pump. You may come back.'

She smiles as her old granny bike is taken off its support hooks.

'I'll come back for what has become important to me now, and we'll see where that takes us.' A customer, waiting at the door, is unaware of her sharing in a parting kiss. 'It was good, Rob.'

She didn't look back and the cobbles under her bicycle's wheels didn't feel so bumpy. She had air in her tyres and the thoughts of a young man who had filled her in ways she could never have expected so soon.

'Granny, whoever you are, your machine brought someone new into my life. A problem's been solved.'

♥