Barbie Ferrari

"Oh, hi. Well yes, but we have washrooms round the side," he said.

"Yeah, but, no offense, your washrooms are disgusting. Personal favour for a paying client?" she smiled.

Robert agreed, of course. She had a point, the lavatories had always been a last resort rather than a first port of call. He opened the back for her and went back behind the counter. She ran a tap for a while. As she came out, he thought he saw her put something back in her bag -- a tube, maybe. Robert vaguely hoped it wasn't drugs of some kind. He didn't mind a bit of weed himself, but, if this girl was into substances, he knew they would be the expensive, crazy, dangerous ones.

She paused by the glass door, just like she had done a month ago.

"So, I'll forgive you for cheating on me with other photographs, but you have been studying the ones you took of me, right?" she asked playfully.

Robert didn't really want to go into detail about exactly how hard he had studied them, but not did he want to seem remiss. "Sure."

"Well, as someone who is now intimately familiar with me. I'd like to get your professional opinion on something." So saying, she unbuttoned her shirt again. She wasn't wearing a bra and her tits sprung out.

"Well?" she asked after an appropriate length of ogling time had passed.

"They're bigger," said Robert. How had he missed it earlier? She'd had surgery.

"Well, duh," she said, "Are they better? Be honest."

That was the question thought Robert. If she'd have asked me a month ago the first time I saw them, I'd have sworn blind that they were perfect as they were. These are different for sure. Why have surgery? The only men in the world who would turn her down as she was were the sort who weren't likely to be further impressed by bigger breasts. There were still minor scars from the operation around the base of each breast and still some minor bruising, but otherwise there was not a lot to criticize.

For all the time men spend looking at breasts, few of them are very good at describing them. Robert knew however that he was supposed to say something at least half coherent, but wasn't sure what words to use to compare already great tits with slightly greater tits. "They're rounder as a whole. The extra volume seems to push your nipples out to the side a bit more and they seem to sit a bit higher overall. There's a more pleasing roundness to them I'd say it was an improvement, but then the originals were pretty great as well."

"Thanks," she said. "I appreciate the critique. Want to christen them?"

"Wait, what?" Robert said automatically while his brain firstly checked that she had said what he thought she had said and then checked to see if what she had said had any other possible interpretations than the one that had first come to him.

"Wrong answer, kid. You were supposed to say 'Yes, beautiful and alluring stranger, I'd love to cum all over your amazing new tits. Shall we try again? Want to play?", she laughed.

Robert's brain was still struggling to process the enormity and improbability of the offer. His dick, which had been watching with increasing apprehension of an opportunity about to walk out the door, finally got fed up of waiting. "Yes," it said.

"Great," she said. "Round the back of the gas station on the car?"

Robert's dick shrugged, it didn't care where the deed took place, but luckily his brain had caught up by this time, "I'll show you where to park so we won't be caught by the security cameras."

He'd done some research as a result of the previous security faux pas. It had turned out not to be a problem. He'd discovered that the tapes weren't kept more than a few days and no-one else would have a reason to watch them if there was no reported incident. And, in the normal course of things, the only person to report an incident was himself. He'd only really have gotten into any trouble if his evening had ended with Bonnie and Clyde putting a shotgun shell through his chest and the cops needed the tapes for evidence. And in any case, the gas station management and local police being who they were, anyone who did watch the tape was more likely to view him as a legend rather than a culprit. Still, he'd familiarized himself thoroughly with the location and working of the CCTV system afterward, just in case.

She got in the car and he indicated a not quite parking spot between the wall and the carwash. She got out, unbuttoned her shirt and spread herself across the bonnet of the car.

"Ok, some ground rules, kid. You can touch the breasts, kiss them even. The rest of my body is off limits. When you cum, you cum on the breasts. Apart from that, you're responsible for getting yourself off. Don't try to get me off, that's not expected or welcomed. Any question?"

"No," said Robert. That all seemed very clear, if not quite as romantic as some of his dreams had been recently.

He wasn't really sure about what to do next. It was a fantasy come to life, but he also felt self-conscious about doing something wrong. He wasn't a virgin, but he could hardly be called experienced either. He didn't feel comfortable just reaching out and squeezing. He felt worse about unzipping. He felt there should be some foreplay. She'd said he could kiss them, so he leant forward and started to do so. They were much bigger than any he'd gotten close to before, and, even with the gentle pressure of his lips, he could feel they were firmer too, the silicon no doubt. He spent a minute kissing and sucking the right one.

He'd just started on to the left when she put her hands round his chin and lifted his head up. "Ok, big boy, if you're hard, it's time to get it out. If you're not hard from all that already, then we might have to reconsider the deal."

Robert had been hard before he'd started. He unzipped nervously, putting it out from between his boxer shorts. He started to masturbate slowly. As he did so, he put out his other hand and started to massage her breast. This felt weird to him. He had never felt small, but he had to wonder what kind of men she was used to. She could have any man she wanted. Did she seek out those who were well endowed and what would she think of his?

As he rubbed her tits, she moved position slightly on the car, raising her arm a little higher. He suddenly saw she had two large cuts on the inside of her arms. They were shallow, but fresh and there were purple bruises. He could only see the very start of them, the shirt covered the rest and any others she might have. He wanted to excuse them by saying that they must have been from the operation somehow, but he more he looked at them, the more he was clear that this couldn't be the case. He realized, with a suddenly cold clarity, that she wasn't even looking him. She had her face turned to the left and was staring into space. That made it worse somehow.

Even he didn't decide immediately. His hand kept moving over his cock for a good minute as he struggled internally. Finally though, he lost the will to continue and slowly came to a stop.

"Thank you," he found himself saying. "You're very beautiful, but I'm not sure I want to do this. Not like this." He zipped up and stood there embarrassed.

It took her a moment to realize what had happened. She slid off the bonnet of the car and stood up. "Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"It feels, well, wrong," he said. "Like you don't really want to."

"I asked you," she laughed then pouted. "Fine, you know you're really very sweet."

She considered for a second. "Okay, seems we have a real gentleman, here, so what I'll do is I'll blow you. Perhaps that will convince you of my genuine sincerity. I'm not going to force you though, honey."

She started rubbing her hand over his trousers then reached inside. Damn, just when his dick was back in, she pulled it out again.

She pushed him against the side of the wall and dropped to her knees. She swallowed him whole. Robert had watched pornography like this, but never experienced it himself. The handful of blowjobs he had gotten had inexperienced and hesitant, from girls who were still working out boy's bodies and their own. They'd still been wonderful, of course, but this was on a different level. Robert doubted this lady had anything more to learn. Every movement, every lick, kiss and press of her lips was calculated and effective.

She pulled away from his dick for a second and looked up at him. "Just to warn you, if you try to upgrade again, I am driving away."

There was little chance of that. The problem of his nerves had been well and truly solved. He didn't have to do anything, as she was taking care of it all. As she blew him, she let out appreciative moans, fake and over-enthusiastic, but moans nevertheless. He could hardly accuse her anymore of not being into it. The experience was intense but at the same time he was detached, as if he was sitting particularly close to the TV during a porn movie.

As he was about to cum, she pulled her mouth away. Reaching up with her hand, she started to pump his shaft. As the pressure started to well up within it, she pointed it downward. He exploded all over her breasts, showering her with his cum. As he squirted, she moved left to right to left again, trying to get an even spread of his white juice across them all. Even before he'd finished, it was sliding down.

"Wow," he said as his orgasm subsided.

"Okay, we're done here," she said. "Back to work, honey. I'm going to clean up here," she said standing up.

Robert suddenly felt like his presence was very unwelcome. He was shell-shocked. He zipped up and walked away. He went into the office to wash his hands. He'd only really been holding his dick at the beginning, but still he liked to be hygienic. More than anything he wanted to get a look at himself in the sink mirror. To see if such a sexual encounter had changed him in anyway, made him more of a man. As he finished, he noticed a drop of semen on the edge of the sink. He checked his hands and clothes, but there didn't appear to be any more. He wiped it up with a paper towel. As he did so he heard the roar of a car and saw a brief flash of lights as the Ferrari left the parking lot.

He sat down at the counter in a daze, not knowing what to do next. He could continue to work on the pictures, but that seemed more than a little anticlimactic. He sat that thinking about what had just happened and why, though he couldn't come up with any good explanations. She didn't actually like him, surely? She hadn't seemed uncontrollably horny, quite the opposite she'd been detached and calculating. Did she like messing with people's heads in some way, playing some kind of power game? It didn't really make any sense.

As he pondered this, the CCTV screens caught his eye for a second. Oh fuck, he thought. He rewound the tapes about half-an-hour. As it reversed he could already see his theory was correct. When they'd been messing around on the body of the car, they were indeed hidden, but later when she'd started to blow him, they'd moved a couple of significant feet closer to the wall, enough to be in shot. He watched, in black and white, a replay of the encounter. Was that really me, he thought to himself.

On the screen, his earlier sprayed, zipped and walked. He found himself watching Barbie on her own. She got up carefully. She had semen on her breasts, of course, but also on one hand. She moved over to the car slowly and carefully, so as not let any of it fall. Trying not to get her handbag dirty she reached inside and pulled something out. Robert assumed it was going to be tissue paper, but it wasn't. It was the same tube he had seen earlier. Very carefully, she scrapped her hand down the tube, depositing the cum into it. With equal care, she then started to transfer the cum from her breasts onto first her hands, and then into the tube. The picture quality wasn't good enough for Robert to see how much she collected, but only once she was satisfied did she start to clean the remaining wetness off with a tissue. She put a stopper in the end of the tube, wiped the end and put it in her handbag. There was no way from just using the paper that she could feel completely clean, but she didn't go into either toilets or the office (as he already knew). She just put her top back on and drove off.

Now, what the fuck was all that about?

2:35am December 13th

The next time Robert saw her was over seven months later. The gas station had a rather feeble effort at Christmas decoration, and had put a little mini-tree next to Robert's counter. Robert was watching Titanic on the screen of his lap-top. A year ago, he'd have hated it because it was sappy, unbelievable crap. Now he hated it because Jack had aimed out of his league, and ended up dead in the water because of it.

It was almost time to move on, he'd decided. Nancy Fields, who had sat behind him in biology not too long ago, had been getting in contact and asking if he wanted to 'hang out'. He hadn't said no directly, but he had pushed it down the road a few times. Perhaps, if he could resolve things to his satisfaction tonight, it was time to take her up on the offer. If she showed, which was by no means certain.

The Ferrari pulled into a pump much slower than usual. She didn't leap out of the car, instead she climbed out slowly. As Robert got a proper look at her, he could immediately see why.

She was pregnant. By the size of her belly she must in the final few months.

Robert had considered this possibility as one of the less desirable ones, so he was shocked but not quite surprised. She didn't pump any gas, but just walked straight into the store. She was chewing gum and she picked up more gum at the counter.

"Hi," she said, nervously. He rang the gum up.

"It looks like congratulations are in order," he said in a customer friendly, but neutral tone.

"You too," she said equally neutrally.

"Sorry?" he said confused.

She indicated his name tag -- Robert Grey, Assistant Manager.

"Oh, right," he said.

"You still planning on studying for that arts degree or did you give up on that?" she asked.

"No, I've already been accepted but it doesn't start until the summer. I've been told that having any kind of management experience will be useful later whatever I do, even if it's only from a lousy gas station," he explained.

This was as close to a heart to heart as they'd ever had. In truth, the promotion had been a stroke of luck. Clarence knew the pumps and his way round an engine, but wasn't so good with the paperwork. Robert had been corralled in as his deputy with the sole task of making sure the boss never attempted to add two numbers together on the clock. The raise would help inflate his college fund a bit faster though.

"I got your letter," she said.

Becoming assistant manager had meant a switch to the day shift. She hadn't shown for several months at this point, so it was what it was. He had written a letter and given Jeff, the new night shift guy, her description (which included "You'll know her when she you see her"). The letter didn't go into any details, because he couldn't really trust Jeff not to open it and there were things he wanted to keep private. It did contain his e-mail address and mobile number, which he was pretty sure she would never use, and, more important, it told her that he would be working nights on whatever Thursday fell directly after she got the letter.

Jeff had left him a voice message last week telling him she'd been in for gas and had even asked after him. The way he'd gone on and on rather incoherently about how amazing she was had pretty much confirmed for Robert that he was getting stoned at work. A couple of months ago, he'd have been asking to join him for a puff. Now that was just another managerial problem for him to deal with, but later, much later. The weed apparently hadn't noticed the pregnancy.

"Well?" she asked.

"Your commissions are ready," he replied. He reached into a draw and produced a large brown envelope he pulled out a set of pictures and a USB thumb-drive containing the original image files.

He was really proud of what he had achieved. It had taken him most of the year and several false starts. Five compositions, each of the same woman in different poses, each clearly belonging to the same set and yet each one done in a different twentieth-century style of art. He'd done an art-deco one of her looking cheekily surprised amongst a cathedral of stained glass windows; he'd done an abstract Daliesque one of her in a crawling position which stretched her proportions to fantastical lengths, but still kept her sexiness and, more importantly her personality. He'd reworked his original 1940s picture to remove the sailor-suit (but keep the hat, cheeky) and taken out the advertising blurb to match the others. He'd done a sixties style psychedelic one of her sitting with her legs wide open, though covering her modesty with swirls of purple and green. Finally, he'd done one in the style of a 70s movie poster, kind of Blaxploitation without the blax. In this one she was kneeling with her mouth open facing something. In the version he'd submitted to his art college it had been a gun. It was something different in the version he was handing over now.

She looked them over. She's wondering about that final one, he thought. She wants to know where I got the image. Perhaps he should confront her about the CCTV evidence. A minute had passed and she wasn't saying anything. Robert suddenly realized that she was crying.

"I was worried about you," he said honestly.

"Don't be," she replied. He offered a tissue and she dabbed her eyes.

She'd recovered a bit, but the silence went on. She hasn't left, Robert thought, so there is more she wants.

"Can I feel the baby?" he asked.

"Ok," she said. She seemed unsure.

He came out from behind the counter. He gently put one hand on her tummy. He moved it around to a few different spots. She took his and guided him.

"I don't feel anything," he said.

"I think he's sleeping now. Don't worry he's perfectly healthy, the doctors say," she said.

"He?" Robert asked. She nodded.

There was another pregnant pause. Then she looked up at him again and said, "Would you...no, I'd like to have sex with you, if that's alright"

For once, Robert's brain was having none of his dick's nonsense. It had to be a rational decision this time.

"I'd like that too," he said. "But what about the father?" he asked.

"It's okay," she said. "He won't mind."

Suddenly they were kissing. She was melting in his arms. He pulled her tight and felt not only her breasts, but also her stomach push into him. She looked up at him, and for the first time, seemed to want him.

"Wait," he said. He got the key to the office out from a draw. As he passed the counter he started to pick up a pack of condoms. She gently took it out of his hand and put it back. They went into the back office and shut the door. It was fairly unlikely there would be more customers at this hour, but he'd better keep an ear open. There was an old worn out sofa. He moved Clarence's coat off it. The sat down, kissed again, and within seconds they were horizontal.

He'd expected to her to be wild, but she let him lead, seeming happy but unsure of herself. They just kissed, with his hand first on her back and then gently and exploratively down her skirt and onto her ass.

"I'm glad I chose you," she said. "I'd like to feel you inside me, once."

"Only once?" Robert asked, excited and disappointed.

"When the baby's born, things will be different. I won't be coming through here again," she explained.

"I'd like to meet him," Robert said. "I mean, if you are ever passing."

"I don't think that would be...possible."

Robert thought she was going to say 'a good idea', in fact he was certain she'd changed her mind mid-sentence.