Emma's Stiletto Seduction Pt. 12

The noise of my metal tipped heels immediately drew his attention, and he glanced back at me, allowing himself to look.

He opened the bonnet and took out what I assumed was the oil cap.

"Do you know what oil it takes?" He asked.

"Of course not." I responded cheekily, "I kind of hoped that was your area of expertise."

"And what's your area of expertise?" he silently thought to himself.

He looked up and smiled, "I'm going to put Synthetic in this, 5W40 if David asks."

"Yes," I replied, "That's exactly what I was thinking."

And he allowed himself to both smile and laugh.

I hoped he was starting to enjoy my company and the view I was providing.

"Would you like to press the button?" He asked, kindly.

"Sure, show me what to do." I replied, thinking that this may or may not be the start of flirting.

He showed me a green button on the far steel pillar of the ramp. He pressed it in, and the gears in the lift started to raise the car slowly off the ground. He let go of the button and ushered me over to do the same.

I placed my index finger on the button, which was difficult with such long fingernails, but I did my best.

"That will do." He said, when the car was around 5ft from the ground.

He walked around the lift, and pulled out a metal rod on each corner.

"To stop it falling." He responded to my quizzical look.

For a second I was enjoying the education, and forgot about the reason why I was here. David was allowing me not just to flirt with this man, but this was my arranged opportunity to explore my sexuality and my libido for this month with another person.

I had warmed to the mechanic, who was hastily wheeling over a trolley with what looked like a giant funnel attached. He seemed nice, and genuine, and had possibly, definitely, started to flirt with me.

"Should I go for i?" I asked myself, after all I had Davids' blessing to do this and he had handled the prior liaison with Richard very well after some reassurances.

The mechanic asked me if I wanted to come under the car, and he gestured to take my hand and guide me.

I could tell his hands were rougher now, as he led me underneath the vehicle.

He had arranged a light under the car, and was about to undo a bolt to let out the oil.

"You may want to step back miss." He said, "Unless you want to get covered."

"Oh I don't mind that." I said, with my best smile.

The oil poured out and was caught in the funnel of the cart he had wheeled out, and when the flow stopped he replaced the bolt.

"That was quick!" I exclaimed.

"It's your bad influence." He replied, looking away.

This was definitely flirting. My heart started beating more quickly now.

He pushed the trolley away and once more took my hand and led me out under the car. His hands felt smooth now, with the light brown oil that had leaked onto them.

Having taken the bolts from the lift, he pressed a button and the car slowly sunk back the ground.

"I've just got to top it up with oil and we are done."

He noticed that I was rubbing my fingers together, clearly my hand was dirty.

"Here." He said, passing me over a rag that smelled very much like it had not been washed in ever.

He filled up the car, and replaced the oil cap. It took no longer tan 40 seconds.

"All done." He said.

"This wasn't going to be enough time." I thought to myself, panicking slightly.

The mechanic noticed that the rag he had given me to wipe my hands had actually left black oil stains and made my hands worse.

"Oh I am sorry." He said looking at my hands, "We have some detergent in the bathroom, it will clean you up."

He beckoned me to follow him. My heels popped and scraped on the concrete floor of the garage, and then became silent in the carpeted reception area of the adjoined house. The carpet had a clear wear mark leading from the entrance to a door that I assumed was the restroom.

The room was completely tiled in white, with a urinal on the wall, a full length mirror and a single toilet separated with a privacy screen. The main restroom door could be locked to give the occupier privacy.

There was a single sink with a jar of green liquid next to it. The basin was white ceramic, but it had tell-tale signs of much use with oiled hands.

As I walked to the sink, my heels once more made the clicking sound that attracted his attention, echoing from the hard surfaces throughout the room. I turned on the tap levers, and dipped my fingers into the green detergent.

"I don't think its coming off." I suggested, deliberately not trying to clean them.

The mechanic walked over to me, if he wanted to flirt more, this was his chance.

But he didn't flirt with me.

In a movement, he stood behind me, and reached around and took my hands in his. he took a large scoop of the detergent and ran it though my fingers, rubbing and cleaning his hands on mine.

I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and smell him properly for the first time. He smelled exactly as you would imagine a mechanic in overalls to, a mixture of engine oil and sweat. I didn't find it unattractive, on the contrary. I was used to well groomed men like my boyfriend David, and his business colleague Richard. But this reminded me of my first sexual liaison with a man.

I didn't know if the mechanic was expecting me to dismiss him, but he had certainly taken a risk by being so close to me. I did my best not to discourage him, and that I found his rather clumsy and unorthodox physical method of flirting rather charming.

I helped wash his hands, and run my long black glossy fingernails over his rough skin. When they were clean, I went to turn off the tap, but by accident placed the elbow lever in the wring direction. Immediately the water flow turned into a jet, and splashed the water out of the sink over me.

Startled, we both stepped back, and he released his arms from around me.

My black leather skirt was soaked all down the front of the material. It shined from the harsh fluorescent strip light.

"I am so sorry!" I explained, looking at the pool of water now on the tiled floor.

"I should be sorry." Said the mechanic apologising.

"Why?" I asked.

"I think I may have got something on your blouse."

I turned to look in the mirror, he was correct. Just above the waistband of my black leather skirt was a dark mark, clearly from his overalls pressing against me.

"Oh that's ok." I said, "I don't mind being dirty...."

And this was our opportunity, if we were going to take this any further it was now. I was sure he wanted me, and so I made the first move.

I walked over to him, and to his surprise hugged him.

As I pulled away, he could see mare oil marks on my white satin blouse.

I pretended to look shocked as I viewed myself in the restroom mirror.

I picked up the rag from the dresser and wiped it over his hands. I took his hands in mine and pressed them firmly against the white satin cloth covering my breasts.

As I pulled them away, they left clear hand-prints on me. His eyes washed with a glisten at the sight in front of him, and he took in a deep breath.

He placed his hands on my hips and pushed me to the tiled wall. He kissed me. It was a strong kiss, and almost immediately I felt his tongue parting my lips, pushing itself into my mouth.

I could feel he was ready for this. I put my arms around his waist and pulled him tightly to me, my back now against the cold plain tiles on the wall.

His tongue probed ever deeper, licking me, snogging me, not giving me the chance to put my own tongue into his mouth. Instinctively I started to suck his tongue, and he felt my tongue piercing on his lips. He had never experienced this before.

He looked over to the full length mirror and watched as he saw a beautiful girl dressed in heeled leather boots, and a tight black leather skirt being fondled and snogged by him. His reflection was that of an older man, in the moment he wished that he was twenty years younger.

"She would have liked me 20 years ago." He thought to himself, embarrassed at the reflection of the old man exploring this beautiful 'girl' with his tongue.

When he let me up for air from the intense kiss, I turned around facing the wall. He let his hands reach around and explore my breasts, retracing the oiled handprints he had left moments earlier. I pushed back against him this time, grinding my tight black leather skirt into his growing erection. For an older man, he could certainly get hard.

I rubbed my skirt up and down his cock, twerking as we both looked at the scene now in the mirror. He nuzzled the back of my neck as we dry-humped. He was definitely very hard and excited now, and thrusted his hips into my bum, pressing me against the wall. His hands encouraging my skirt to ride up revealing my stocking tops.

Again we both watched this unfold in the mirror.

Suddenly he stopped, he was reaching orgasm but had managed to deter it just at the right moment, edging himself but not completing. Yet.

I turned around and took his hands in mine, walking over confidently towards the toilet. It had no lid, but still I sat on it and pulled him close.

His overalls clearly were concealing a large erection, and I undid the knot of his sleeves and started to unbutton them down to the crotch. With both hands I pulled down the waistband of his pants, and his cock sprung out in front of me.

I looked up at him, his kind face had changed into a red glow, sweat starting to trickle down his forehead.

I cupped his heavy balls in my hand and held them tightly, and took his shaft in my other hand.

I gently wanked it, just to gauge the reaction from him.

He reached up and put his glasses back on his forehead, and wiped his brow.

I'm a movement I lowered my head down onto his erect penis and took his bellend between my cherry red lips.

He moaned with pleasure.

Slowly I allowed my lips to work their way over the ridge of his cockhead, just enough so that their motion pushed back his foreskin revealing his bright purple helmet. It was large, like a mushroom, and was quite a mouthful. So much so that I had decided that I couldn't work with it for very long. As my head bobbed up and down on his cock, I felt his hands rest on my shoulders, he was certainly getting a filthy girl in more ways than one.

As I raised the pace, he allowed himself to glance over in the mirror one last time, to see a beautiful girl sat on a toilet sucking his cock into her willing mouth.

It was too much for him, and he jerked back and came into my mouth.

He kept cumming, and he didn't know himself if he would ever stop. There must have been 6 or 7 separate releases of cum, not that anyone was counting. Each one was smaller than the last, but to the mechanic each felt fantastic.

I could feel my cheeks bulging with cum. My boyfriend David classified himself as a 'heavy cummer', like most men arrogantly do, but this older man certainly surpassed most others.

As he slowly withdrew his penis from my mouth, I did my best to keep the cum contained in there. I wasn't sure If I was going to spit it out or swallow, or actually if I had any choice.

A trail of semen leaked from my lips and down my chin, finding my skirt.

I wanted to show him his cum in me, what he had rewarded me with. What I had earned from him. But I knew if I did so there would be a chance of it leaking from my mouth.

I decided to go for it, and as I opened my mouth to show him the cum, it ran out, again down my chin. I did my best to catch it in my hands, but it was wet, very liquid and ran though my fingers and down onto my skirt.

The cum left in my mouth was still presented to him on my tongue, and then with an exaggerated action swallowed it in front of him.

He watched with astonishment.

I stood up from the toilet and pulled my skirt back down to knee level. My lips, hands and skirt had evidence of his cum on them, but I wasn't going to clean it up. I wanted to keep it, my thoughts only now to show David what I had done and what a man had done to me as a consequence.

My heels clicked through the reception as I picked up the car keys, the mechanic still somewhat confused as he hurriedly folded his semi-erect penis back into his overalls.

I picked up my handbag and got into the car. I just wanted to get away now, back to David. To let him know I was ok and on my way.

"No charge." The mechanic spluttered, trying hard to find the words.

"I don't charge either." I responded, poking out my tongue as I reversed the car back into the yard.

Text message

Emma: On my way, 5 minutes x

David: Thank goodness x

The polythene sheets covering the car seat came in handy, My blouse was covered in oil marks and my skirt still damp from the basin spray and the mechanics' sperm.

David was waiting outside the cafe as I pulled into a parking bay.

He looked at me, and the plastic sheet covering the car seat.

"I didn't have to pay." I said, shyly.

"That's good, as I took your purse out of your bag earlier." David said, handing it back to me.