Gas Thief

She shook her head.

"So bend your pretty body over that wheel and let's get going."

"But ...?"

"Oh. You'd rather I laid you on a nice soft bed and fucked you that way?"

Her nod was enthusiastic.

"Well, we'll get to that later. Right now I want to fuck your ass so you know you're paying your way though this. And don't forget, this way I won't breed any little Francines inside you."

She turned slowly away from me and bent over the wheel. Yes, she had a very womanly shape, and there it was, all laid out before me for the price of 5 gallons of gas.

"Don't hurt me, please?"

"I'll try not to, but that's a problem, you know."

"I ...."

"I've heard girls get used to it, and then get to really liking it."

"I don't know. Cynthia says ...."

"What?"

"She says Jason really makes her hurt."

"So? He's getting his money's worth, I guess. Overall, Cynthia must like what he does. She went with him all through highschool, and now two years later, she's still fucking him."

"But ...?"

"Well, Francine. I'm going to fuck that pretty little ass of yours like there's no tomorrow, and if it hurts too much, you say so and we'll just agree you're a piss poor ass fuck as well as a piss poor gas thief. Fair enough? I might decide fucking your pussy is good enough to make up for your ass being too tight. We'll see."

With that I nestled my dick between her butt cheeks. "How's that feel? Ease up. Get ready for a big push."

"Please be gentle?"

"Okay, here comes. Try to relax. I'm just an ordinary size guy, so I'll fit into you real nice if you just relax and let yourself enjoy letting me slip inside." I gave her a gentle poke or two.

"How's that feel?"

"Like it's going to hurt."

"Well, there's always a little strain when you're learning something worth learning. Now relax and let me in."

I felt her sphincter ease.

"That-a-girl. Easy does it now." I felt her ease a bit more. "Ready, Francine?"

"I guess. Please come in slowly. Please?"

"Maybe, maybe not. It's really difficult to control nature, you know."

"Oh, what the hell! Ram it into me however you want! If I rip, I rip. But just remember you did it, not me!"

Of course, this wasn't going to work. We needed some sort of lubricant—that is unless her ass was already stretched out loosie-goosie—and I certainly hoped it wasn't. What to do became a major question. Just turn her around, fondle her up until she self-lubricated her cunt? Maybe I could make that work—get my dick all lubed up in her pussy, then quickly turn her around and shove it up her ass. Oh, the quandaries of living without modern conveniences!

But, was I that sort of man?

Then I remembered: In the far end of the machinery shed, we have a small office where we kept machinery manuals, records, and papers, a few higher priced tools, and stuff like that. One item of 'stuff like that' was usually a small container of Vaseline we kept available in the restroom for lubricating small injuries and delicate machine parts. Did Francine's ass qualify as a delicate part? Yes! At least from where I stood!

"Just stay like that for a minute. I'll go get something to make it easier for you."

"What?"

"We keep some Vaseline in the office restroom. That'll make your ass slippery so I go in smoother."

"Please hurry, Simon. I'm getting cold out here like this."

"Lucky it's a hot summer night. Think how this will be in the middle of winter."

"I'm not doing this in the middle of winter, not like this, anyway."

Well, that sounded promising. I was still surprised she was doing this at all! A piece of ass for the price of 5 gallons of gas? $20 at today's prices? Well, there had been my threat to tell the Senator's secrets to the world and ruin his career. Maybe that was a bigger factor than I expected.

"I'll be back in a minute. Put your shirt back on if you get too chilly."

"Just hurry. I want to get this over before I freeze to death."

She looked around, but by then I was two bays down the building toward the office. I just hoped that Vaseline was still there and hadn't been all used up lubricating things much less important right then than Francine's ass!

"Okay," I said a few moments later, winded from my rush to and fro. I popped the lid off the plastic Vaseline container. "I hope this doesn't feel too cold on you."

"Just smear it on. God, it's cold out here!"

So I did as she asked. What guy wouldn't? And then I stopped, wondering at my next move.

She wiggled her fanny, then turned her face back toward me. Both looked wonderful—and her face looked 'expectant', shall we say? I sallied toward her until my dick pointed into the crack just enough to separate her cheeks slightly.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Simon."

"Okay, here comes." I gave her a gentle jab—at least I thought it was gentle.

"Ow!"

"Ease up, Francine." I wasn't far enough in to hurt her much, but I did feel her ease. So I gave her another jab.

"Oh, wow!"

"Hurt?"

"Some, but getting better."

"Okay, here's the rest." This jab was all I had. I mean I went all the way in until my hips bumped solidly against her butt cheeks. I gave her a moment, then said, "How's that."

"I hope that gets me my gasoline because if you want more, there's no more room left in my ass."

"Feels good, though?"

"Good enough. I'm getting used to it. Might help if you moved around inside me some—help me loosen up, you know?"

So I did, making certain the front of my thighs hammered solidly against her cheeks. As this went on, her breathing roughened, leading me to believe her enjoyment software evaluating our relative motions had come to the conclusion she liked the result. In fact, more than merely just liked.

"Hope you like me this way, Simon."

"Oh, you're all right. But I'd like you lots better if I had a good grip on your tits." I didn't wait for an invitation. I bent further toward the tractor and slipped my hands full of what moments before had filled her bra.

"Ooh! That's nice. This is so nice. I just can't imagine anything nicer than this," she whispered.

I gave that a moment's consideration, realizing that I had that difficulty, too. But there had to be more, right?

"Shirt off again, Francine."

"But I'll get cold."

"If you do, it will be your fault."

"What you mean?"

"Get moving! Expend a little of your energy, fuck me like you should and you'll keep nice and warm."

"Only my ass and my titties will keep warm. Please do me better? Please, Simon?"

I ramped up my pumping into her ass, she ramped up hers, too, along with panting like a steam locomotive on a hard pull. Like me, too.

She sure felt good, and that little dab of Vaseline kept her ass's lining smooth as a mink coat. No way I was going to last much longer. If I could just wind her up a little tighter so she went over Climax Pass ahead of me, then maybe even if she was sore tomorrow, her pleasure would bring her back for more.

I released one breast and slipped that hand under her and around the tire so I found her pussy lips and clit. A rough finger rub across her clit's end brought a shiver and lurch that said I'd found the key to her happiness.

"Like that?"

Her response to my second rub, combined with a not-too-gentle pinch, was a gasp that sounded as if it must be more than just that. As I considered this, she flew over Climax Mountain's Summit and crashed with a gasp and a convulsion so strong I thought she might pinch me off at the balls. Maybe the fact I went over at almost the same time saved me.

***

"Wow!" she said after about ten minutes of gradually diminishing sighs and hard breathing.

A capitalized 'WOW!' kept trying to force itself from my mouth, too, but I kept my jaw clamped tight so it didn't

Francine wiggled her ass, I suppose in hopes of waking me up for more, but I didn't need waking. What I needed was to rest up and get control of my depleted body.

"You like me?" she said, turning so she could see me past where I still held her breast in a solid grip and rolled her clit between my fingers of the other. "Am I worth five gallons of gas?"

"Not yet."

"What you mean, not yet?"

"About two gallons, not a spoonful more."

"Oh." The way she said that sounded as if she thought she'd earned at least six gallons, maybe eight or ten.

"Sorry to disappoint. But that was only a start."

"Just a start?"

"Good start, but only a start."

"Oh."

"See, way I figure it, two gallons for that ass fuck, two gallons more for a good cunt fuck—and it better be really good to be worth that—and one gallon for a great cock suck. Five gallons total."

"Really? I gotta do all that?"

"Well, gas is expensive, but with all that woman-fucking on the market, it's a glut. Every girl—every woman—has one. No shortage in that market, far as I see. What you want to do next? Suck my dick?"

"Do I have to? It's been in my ass."

"You still owe me for three gallons of gas. I could fuck your pussy one and a half times, I guess. How about that?"

"But your dick's been in my ass. Can't I wash it first? Even before you put it in me anywhere else?"

"Sure. We have hot water in the office restroom. And a place to wash up, too."

"A shower, too? I feel all icky."

"No shower. Besides, you don't look icky." I smiled just to confirm the way she looked suited perfectly what I wanted from her next—either version.

"Funny, you know? I feel icky, but I feel wonderful, too."

"Well, if it helps any, I feel good, too."

"You do? Oh I hope so. I want you to feel even better than just good. Let's go clean me up, please? You'll help me, won't you? So it doesn't take too long?"

I nodded. What else could I do?

"Come on, Simon. Please?" With that she took my hand and pulled it toward the other end of the machine shed.

She was still pulling on me when we reached the office's door. I had my keys ready to unlock it. A moment later she was leading me inside.

"What you do in here?"

"Mostly keep maintenance records and information on the machinery. Read farm magazines and keep up on what's new. Keep breeding records on our cows and their milk production. Keep track of the calves and their weight gain—before we sell them."

"Ever fuck a girl in here?"

I shook my head. "No. Never fucked one in the machine shed, either."

"Waste of space, I'd say. I'll bet you could fuck me really good in here."

"Like maybe on the floor?" I mean, all we had in there was an old wooden desk, a swivel chair whose seat was hard as a rock, a half-dozen 4-drawer filing cabinets full of herd records, and a bookcase full of books, most of them old as my dad.

"Where ever you want. Or, we could go back out again and you could fuck me bent backwards over the other front wheel of that tractor. But you gotta help me clean up, first."

She paused a moment, then turned toward me. "Forget that. Too cold out there. Just help me clean up, and then fuck me in here."

Who was I to protest that offer? I pointed toward the restroom door. "There's the restroom."

"Simon? You'll help me, won't you? How will I ever find all the towels, wash clothes, and all the other stuff I know I'll need.

"Under the sink and in that small closet, left side of the toilet."

"But no shower, huh?"

I shook my head.

"Then come with me, please? I don't want to be in there alone."

"Why not? No boogie-man is going to get you in there."

"Because I want you with me, that's why." She paused a moment. "What I really want is you to take me into town, find us a good enough motel, and ball my brains out, that's why! What's wrong with me? Wasn't I a good enough fuck already?"

"Good enough." I kept getting the feeling I was a lot slower on the up-take here than I should be!

"Then come on!" She held out her hand to me, and you know? I couldn't resist.

I quickly discovered Dad and I had built the restroom far too small—and it wasn't just that we had not included a shower, although having one sure would have been nice. I kept thinking about Francine's comment about finding a motel somewhere and making a full night of it.

First, she wanted to wash me, which I certainly didn't mind. As soon as she'd satisfied whatever she thought my dick needed so she wouldn't in effect be sucking her own ass, she was on her knees and trying to suck me inside out.

Not a lot was said during the next quarter hour, but I could have repeated, 'Yes, baby! Do more of that.' a million times. You know the expression, 'Come to a head?' Well, I did, but I don't know where all that juice came from. What seemed odd to me was that Francine skewered her mouth and throat onto my penis, yet somehow managed to suck and breathe at the same time. She must have natural talent, or lots of experience!

When I was finished for the second time that night, she pulled back and loosed her suction's grip on me.

"There," she said, looking up with a coy grin hinting on her face. "Have I earned another gallon?"

I nodded. No way I could do other than agree.

"God, I wish we had a bed, Simon. How am I gonna pussy fuck you? I'm so tired out, I just want to take a nap. You feel that way, too?"

Now what guy who'd just come twice in the last half hour wouldn't be? I did know I couldn't pussy fuck her bent over a tractor front wheel. My legs felt like rubber, and it was cold out there anyway. If she bent that pretty body of hers over the sink vanity and watched in the mirror, could I muster the resolve to poke her cunt to a climax from the rear while she watched the entire performance?

"You've 'bout done me in, Simon," she said, barely above a whisper, "but I still got two gallons to earn. What you think?"

I was trying to think, but all my body's remaining energy wasn't enough to bring my thoughts to any sort of conclusion.

"I got it!" she said with far more enthusiasm than I could muster. "On the toilet—I mean on the toilet seat. How about that? You sit on the seat, and I sit on your lap facing you up close, with your dick up my pussy."

She led me that way and sat me down. In a moment I was looking at a woman's neck that had the world's two finest looking breasts just below it.

She smiled down at me. "Like that? Like me?"

Along with her question, she squeezed me and straightened her knees slightly so she rose up with that grip on and stripped away whatever fluid remained in my dick.

"Yes? Like that? Want me to do that again?"

I nodded—I think.

"Good. I like that, too. Good thing I'm on BC. I don't want to be make any dairy farmer babies just yet, Simon. I want lots of this, and lots of times, with no complications except learning how to do you better, better yet, and then best of all. I think I'll get all my car gas from you. Maybe I should get a car that burns lots of gas so I have excuse to come over every night."

She didn't need an excuse. Far as I was concerned, she could come over any night, even if her car didn't need gas.

"You sure make me feel soooo good, Simon. There now, let's do that some more."

She setup a rhythm that could only be described as wonderful by the man at my end.

Shortly she was perspiring and gasping and jumping around on me so I feared she might double me up on a down stroke and break me off. She'd reached that point where external lubrication became unnecessary. She was self-lubricating not only herself, but also me, to the extent I think her juice was dripping off my balls.

Me? I was mostly concerned with those breasts massaging my face. Man, those were nice! Every so many strokes she'd hug them to my face and hiss, "Kiss 'em baby! Kiss them!" which I did my best to achieve.

To my surprise she leaned back and held one up to me.

"Please, Simon. Suck it will you? It needs it so much. Hell, I need it. I know I can't ever fuck you as good as you deserve, but if I promise to try my best every time? Will you suck my titties every time?"

I suppose I nodded. She held the other one up to my mouth, only to see her smile in a strained manner I took to mean she was close to her climax summit.

All at once, she was pounding away onto me so hard I thought the toilet seat might collapse under the onslaught, or maybe even break the porcelain toilet itself.

"Coming, Simon. Help me earn those other two gallons, Honey! Oh, what a night! I don't know if I can drive home. I...! Oh, god! What's happening to me? Please, Honey, don't let me die from this, but don't let it stop, either."

I kept her moving, the best as I could, until she finally sat solidly on me, gasping and shaking, and trying to kiss every part of my face, neck, and shoulders she could reach. She finished by leaning back and presenting me with another breast to kiss.

"I love this," she said. "How am I getting home? Way I feel I may never be able to drive again. My mind just keeps wandering back to the feeling of you fucking my ass, and then letting me suck your dick. Or maybe it's sitting on you like this and letting you slowly fuck my pussy."

"Well, you're not driving home tonight. You have a flat tire on the front of your car."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do."

"Damn! I knew I should have bought a new one. The tire shop said I had one that was worn out."

"Well, I'll admit I helped it along."

"What you mean?"

"I found your car, knew it was yours and you were up here stealing my gas, and shot a hole in it. I hope you've learned you lesson about stealing gas."

"I learned, all right. Better to find the farmer's son and fuck him until he can't stand up. And let him do the same for me, and get my gas that way. Now, how am I getting home?"

"Call your folks and have them call a tow truck or a tire service truck?"

"Not my folks. They're over at the capitol, so I suppose I'll have to call the tire shop myself. Is there a phone out here?"

I waved in the direction of the desk.

"But wait," she said. "Maybe I don't want it fixed yet. Maybe I want you to take me home where I have a nice, big, soft, warm bed, no parents at home, and both maids are gone for the weekend. I'll bet by morning you'll be rested up and ready to fuck this gas thief again—maybe lots of times. How about that, Mr. Simon Little—who isn't one bit 'little' in any way that matters?"

"How about this instead? I'll go down on the road with you and help you put your spare tire on. You do have one, I suppose. Then you can drive yourself home."

"Well, if I don't, I'll just owe you more yet, won't I? I like that idea more every minute I think about it. But either way you gotta promise you'll come home with me and make me pay you back for helping with my flat tire, too."

Oh brother! Sometimes it's so difficult to mete out just punishment! And stealing gas certainly deserved punishment.