Dipstick

DIPSTICK

I have a passion, no you naughty lot, not just for that, no a passion for cars. In particular, sports cars, soft-tops, you now the type, old M.G's, MX-5's or Miata's as they're called in the States. I have been lucky enough over the years to own a number of such cars and have been very lucky in that Hubby is a total 'petrol-head' too. You know the type, fast bikes, fast cars and me, a fast woman! So it will come as no surprise that along with this passion for all things sports car, comes a knowledge of how to fix them. Yup, we all know that these little gems of the road do tend to leave you both exhilarated and frustrated often in equal amounts. Over the years I have been the spanner woman alongside, first my Dad, then Hubby, fixing bits n bobs on my cars in the rain and wee small hours of the night. It's good to know what's what and at least have some working knowledge of what's going on or to at least know when the car doesn't sound or feel quite right.

So fast-forward to last month. My beloved little Mazda had or felt like it was developing a rather clunky bum. I know it's hardly an F1 drivers description to his mechanic, but I knew she wasn't quite right..

"Hey!" I shouted to Hubby as he cut kindling in the wood shed, "She's got a bit of a knocking from the rear; I think it could be a drop link?" I added, half questioning, half feeling knowledgeable.

I heard the axe drop onto the pile of cut wood and Hubby strolled out, jeans covered in wood shavings and bark.

"Very good," he smiled, hands on hips as he looked at 'Daisy'. Didn't I tell you, I always, but always name a car, it's a girl thing, or maybe it's just 'a me' thing? Who knows....

"Side?" he questioned.

I stopped looking so professional and instead went for vulnerable but cute. Index finger on lips in mock thought I grinned,

"Nearside?"

"So the passenger side he checked?"

before kneeling on the gravel, hand on the rear wing and looking up at me with a broad grin.

"Nope," I laughed, "My side."

And raised my hands up in mock 'who knows' gesture.

"O.k.," He smiled getting up once more to move sides. "That'll be the offside then?" he questioned.

"Oh yes, definitely the offside," I laughed as he dipped his head and shoulders below the wing and looked around.

After a few minutes of looking, rear wing bouncing and huffing, Hubby concluded that after a cursory inspection he could see nothing loose or broken.

"Drop it down to Ken's this afternoon," he suggested, wiping dirt from his hands as he moved to give me a kiss.

Hubby gives kisses that melt me every time and the years haven't diminished their passion, I took it full and with some passion, savouring the moment. I smiled a content feeling filling me, as he went back to the wood shed and relentlessly boring tasks of wood cutting, before I headed to the kitchen.

Ken's is our local garage, it's a rough and ready, fix anything sort of place where he, Ken, is always happy to fix anything from trucks and cars to farm machinery and trailers. He has a grumpy but appealing character and once past his gruff exterior, usually only presented to tourists, he's a gem and a gentleman. He has on occasions, younger mechanics, some from the local college on work placements and some just trying their hand at making a few quid. Most don't stop long as Ken is a real stickler for doing things the 'ken way'. There's also no point in taking your car there if you need it back in a hurry. Even a simple job can take a day or two, if Ken is in the mood and longer if he's not. We learnt this years ago and now refer to when a car will be back as 'Ken time'.

So later that afternoon I found myself pulling into Ken's yard to be greeted by a couple of old dogs, a number of chickens and rabbits and Ken, who looked strangely happy to see me, as I stepped out of Daisy. Now it might have been my very short denim shorts or my vest top which, I have to admit, was struggling to hold my rather ample boobs in and was showing a lot of push-up bra, but he smiled and even gave me a wave from the door of his office.

"Nice to see a lady with her top down," He cheekily smiled, before pointing towards Daisy, sans roof. "I'm just popping out," He added, looking directly at my boobs as I walked towards him, "But Danny here, will sort you out." He added, gesturing towards a skinny twenty something wearing clean blue overalls and Oakley baseball cap, hunched over the engine bay of a BMW.

With that Ken, turned and stepped back into the dark doorway of his office, glancing back this time at my legs as I headed for the one called Danny.

"Hi Danny," I smiled holding out a hand, "I'm Jo and my Daisy has a poorly bum."

There was, I guess no reasonable reason why he would get what the hell I was on about, but he smiled back, eyed up my tits through his glasses, as had his boss, and wiping his hands on his clean overalls, took my outstretched hand in his and held it. He held it a little longer than I felt was polite, but then he was young and probably not used to greeting customers. I wriggled my hand free, still trying to smile and maintain a happy appearance as I pointed towards the rear of Daisy.

"I think it could be a suspension bush," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, hoping for agreement, none came.

Instead Danny eyes dropped, stone like into my cleavage. Now Danny was not much taller than me, but his height advantage gave him a near perfect view of my bulging tits, and he clearly was enjoying it.

"Eyes, Danny, Eyes," I snapped, clicking my fingers like a teacher, "My eyes are up here" I added, pointing towards my face, just to make sure he knew he was caught.

He jumped and spun on the spot, before heading towards the car at a pace. I smiled broadly behind his back shaking my head in mock disbelief.

Danny hoped into Daisy and fumbling around the steering column finally realised that I was stood only feet away dangling the keys from the tip of a long red finger nailed finger.

"You might need these Danny," I suggested, smiling widely.

Danny didn't speak; he held out a hand and accepted them, before starting her up, spinning her wheels on the gravel and darting into the inspection bay, clanking her over the ramps and stopping her rather abruptly.

Before I had even managed to enter the bay, Danny had leaped out and was lifting Daisy up, the ramps clanging and rattling as up she went. Once at just above head height, well Danny head height, the ramps stopped. Still without uttering a word, he disappeared, fumbling about in a corner of the workshop before reappearing, untwisting the long cable of an inspection lamp. Lamp on, Danny still not acknowledging my presence, headed underneath the car.

I gave him a couple of minutes, before I spoke.

"What do you think?" I asked quizzically.

He still didn't speak.

"Suspension bushes?" I suggested again.

Still he remained silent. Oh well, he had learnt one thing from Ken, rudeness. I stepped over a couple of piles of rags and leant casually against a rough, dirty workbench. Danny continued his inspection of the car, silently, prodding, pulling and shaking various parts, the lamp flickering on and off intermittently, much to his frustration.

"FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

He finally snapped, hurling the lamp to the floor with a crash and stomping out, head bent low from under the car. He opened draw after draw as I guessed he searched in vain for a replacement, but with no luck.

"Here you go," I chirped, holding out a battery powered torch, I had been toying with, "This any good to you?"

Danny stopped his search and turned towards me.

"Thanks." He offered as he took it roughly from my hand.

"Oh," I mocked, "So you can speak then." I added, head tilted to one side.

"I can do lots of things," he smirked back. "Lots."

"James Hunt," I replied.

"What?" Danny spoke again, looking utterly baffled by my blurting out the random name.

"James Hunt," I repeated, but this time pointing at the sewn on patch on the pocket of his overalls.

"James Hunt, F1 Championship winner in 1976, he had that patch on his overalls." I beamed. Danny looked even more baffled as he pulled at the pocket as if seeing it for the first time.

'Sex, breakfast of champions.' It read.

I smiled at him as he pulled his overalls straight, pulling down the zip a little to reveal a white shirt. He smirked again, "Well," he said, "Isn't it?" before going back under the car and the pulling and rattling started again.

I returned to standing patiently, leaning on the bench, looking around for something to do or say. The longer Danny took, the more restless I became and so slowly pacing around to the front of the car I spotted in the corner of the bay, a glass door, and went to investigate. The door, covered in auto stickers and dust, lead into a tiny room with a dirty window. Curiosity now getting the better of me, I walked slowly, step by cautious step to the window and cupping my hands on the glass, peered in.

Oh.......oh, I wasn't expecting that. The room was more cell like than the grubby office I was expecting. In it was a small round table and rough green leather armchair, its upholstery ripped with stuffing pocking out. The walls were tastefully decorated in calendars from numerous auto suppliers and showed girls in various states of undress. It was, though, the table though that caught my eye and drew my attention. It was covered in porn magazines. They were piled three, four or more deep. Some part open showing girls laid out their legs and pussies wide open. On others were images of huge hard cocked guys and couples, threesomes and more, fucking and sucking. I gulped, 'WOW,'' dirty buggers,' I mused, some rest room. Before I could stop myself I had the handle of the door in my grip and after a little yank, it opened and I was in.

The floor was filthy, the light now much dimmer through the dust covered windows, added another level of creepiness to the room, as I stepped towards the table, pushing aside a pair of old work boots and ripped out magazine pages and covers with my shoe. Now standing, curiously in front of the table, I reached down and selected one. It was old, maybe 80's old, but it was hardcore, proper full bush, big tits and huge cocks hardcore. I flicked a few wrinkled dry old pages of what looked like a set with two white girls, all big hair and fake tits and a huge cocked black guy. It was in German, or maybe Scandinavian, but you didn't need to read it to know what it was about. Dropping it back on the pile, I picked up another, 'Bussen' was the title and judging by the tits on the cover girl it was about big ones. As I flicked, intrigued and a little excited by my find, through the pages of cock sucking busty babes with cum covered tits and faces, I began to get a weird feeling. The feeling I was not alone.

"GET OUT!" Danny snapped grabbing my shoulder. "GET OUT!"He repeated this time with more anger in his voice.

I jumped and without thinking lashed out, hitting him across the face with the magazine I was holding, knocking his cap and glasses across the room. He 'huffed' with shock and probably some pain, held the side of his face, and bending from the waist stumbled to his right with the impact. I stood, with just the torn cover in my hand, the content fluttering down in the dust.

"You shouldn't be in here," he moaned, but with less anger and more desperation in his voice. "You have to get out."

Danny was clearly in shock. He slowly stood back upright, still holding his face, but his eyes were struggling to focus on me.

"Don't you dare shout at me," I snarled back at him, "Just cos I've found your little wank den." I added in an attempt to humiliate him further. "I'm not easily shocked," I offered, with a hint of sympathy in my still loud voice. "I like porn as much as most men do."

Why I added this, I still do not know but I did, it was true I guess, and just seemed appropriate at the time. Now on a cathartic roll I offered perhaps more about me than I or Danny had expected.

"I love a bit of porn wanking, don't you?" I asked, a questioning tone in my voice. Danny stood, not unexpectedly silent and open mouthed. "Well I do." I offered, "There's nothing wrong with it, we all fuck after all."

Danny wobbled on the spot for a second, before he asked, politely and quietly,

"I can't see owt without my glasses, can you see where they went?"

I could see them; they were at the far side of the room, nestling on top of a pile of magazines, subtly titled, 'Milf Fuckers.'

"They're on top of Milf Fuckers," I smiled, "On the floor, next to the armchair."

Danny slowly got down on his knees and fumbling about, God he really couldn't see without them, managed to find first the pile of magazines and then his glasses. As he pulled himself back to his feet, glasses in hand, I questioned him.

"You like Milf's?" I asked, looking him in the eyes as he clumsily arranged his glasses straight on his nose. "Judging by that pile someone does." I suggested.

Danny went quiet for a moment.

"They're Ken's," he said at last. "Ken says the older women who come in here, they're all gagging for younger guys, that's all."

He stood slightly shamefaced looking towards me.

"And you," I spoke slowly and softly, "Do you think that too?" I asked, sitting carefully down on the battered chair arm, and crossing my legs seductively slowly. "Is that what I'm looking for, some young cock?" I questioned him as I now slid myself down from the arm into the soft, sagging leather of the seat, resting my hands gently on the torn arms.

The silence was endless, painful and so to end it I spoke again.

"Get on your knees Danny," I quietly but firmly requested. "Do it now please," I added, moving my legs apart, causing the material of my tight shorts to ride up and dig into and between my pussy lips.

Danny, surprisingly and without questioning did as he was told. He knelt, rather wobbling on the floor before me, his overalls pulled tight on his shoulders, making him stoop a little.

"Move closer Danny," I softly spoke, "Move right up here between my legs please." My tone was quiet, calm, but direct.

"There," I said softly, as his shoulders touched my spread knees, "There, that's much better, isn't it?"

Danny looked up at me, his eyes soft and almost puppy like through the dust and finger prints on his glasses.

"Now," I offered, "Let's play some milf games."

Danny's look of confusion was soon gone as taking him by the back of the neck, I pulled his head hard and roughly into my crotch, forcing his face into the seam of my shorts and held it tight as my thighs wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him trapped.

"Danny, Danny, I whispered," As he struggled for breath, "Feel that, that's my milf pussy waiting for you, smell it."

Danny had little choice but to breathe in the musky smell of my now wet pussy, through the thin denim of my shorts. He squirmed still, his arms flailing to try and find purchase on the chair arms or base, but he couldn't. My legs, gym fit, tightened around him, holding him there, to breathe me in and become my play thing.

I held him for a few minutes more until his attempts to release my grip subsided and I felt he was ready for more 'play.' As my now red thighs eased their grip on his head and neck I lifted his face towards mine.

"You want to play games with this milf?" I asked, blowing him an animated kiss.

"You want some milf pussy and big milf tits?" I continued.

He nodded and as I pushed his red creased face away and stood up, he rocked back onto his calves, waiting for whatever was to happen next. Danny had, I guess, no idea what was going to happen next, but I do know he didn't expect what did.

Now standing a mere three feet from his face, I slowly unhooked the button of my shorts, pulled down the zip and feet together, allowed them to fall silently to the dusty floor. My knickers were visibly wet, one lip of my pussy clearly showing outside the pink fabric of them. With the finger and thumb of each hand I took hold of the band on my knickers and slowly and deliberately, wriggled them down my tattooed thighs, leaning forward as I did. He was transfixed.

As they too, slipped to my feet to be carefully lifted off, one foot at a time, he saw my fully shaved pussy for the first time. His eyes clearly bulged as first one finger then two, were eased inside to spread her wide, wet and open for his gaze. If Danny thought he was going to choose the next move he was wrong, very wrong. He might have expected a few things, but he never expected me to step to one side of the chair and ask, ever so politely,

"Sit down for me now Danny, hands on the chair arms and don't move please, there's a good boy."

My tone a little condescending was enough for him to obey without questioning or speaking, and as he sat, still transfixed by my tight thighs and shaved pussy only feet away from him, I saw the first signs of his erection. Danny sat, still alright; he was fixed rigid in the chair, hands gripping the torn leather and dirty stuffing, as I turned my back on him, spread my legs wide and bent, slowly down to grasp my spread ankles. He now had the perfect view of my ass and tight puckered bum hole. Danny let out a gasp, and checking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't moving those hands, I stood back up, slowly dragging my hands and long slender fingers up my legs, caressing my tight thighs, to clench my bum, digging the nails into my soft flesh.

Still looking over my shoulder at him I asked,

"Want to see my big milf tits Danny?" Before slowly turning to face him, legs still wide apart. Crossing my hands I took hold of the hem of my vest top and slowly, very slowly lifted it up and over my well filled bra cups. He managed an audible gulp from his open mouth as I caressed the cups of my bra, making my boobs swell up and almost overflow the lace. Now, vest still in hand I smoothed my hair off my face and flicked the top away, to land on the magazine table, Danny's eyes following its flight only to stop mid way as he saw me reaching back and behind to unclasp my bra. Like a pro, I lifted first one, then the other strap over my shoulders to rest cupping my big tits. Then and only then, did I ease the cups down and out from under my boobs allowing them to hang free in front of his gaze. He was held, like a rabbit in the headlights, his overalls bulging clearly now as his cock tried to escape and show its obvious size. As I dropped the bra to the floor, I stood for a moment, hands on hips, legs apart, chest pushed up and out and stared at him.

"Lay on the floor Danny, just there," I told him, "I have something for you."

Stepping back, I gave him just enough room to stand up and then slowly, still without taking his eyes off me, settle to the floor and lay down. Once on his back, he kept himself propped up on his elbows so that he could enjoy the view, like an excited child at a toyshop window. I moved slowly around him, all the time keeping eye contact, to stand legs apart above his head. His gaze followed me and as I stopped above him, he looked straight up.

"Relax Danny," I spoke softly, "This will be fun, trust me."

I don't know if Danny did or did not trust me at this point, but he laid his head back, on the dirty floor and waited, eyes wide looking up and into my slightly open pussy. His eyes probably got even wider as I slowly, hands on my knees, lowered myself to squat, inches above his face, but I couldn't see.

"Don't move now Danny, I'm not ready for you to move just yet." I instructed.

To his credit, Danny did'nt move, he laid perfectly still, his cock now clearly bending in its tight confines. If Danny was about to question my next move he would have found it hard, as moving from squat, with hands on thighs, to kneeling I lowered and then pressed firm my ass into his face, and slowly, very, very slowly, began to grind on him.