Selling a Car

I'd just bought myself a new car, and I mean new -- fresh out of the factory. Not something I could normally afford but I'd done a favour for a bigwig in the factory and he arranged for me to have one cheap. By an odd coincidence the foreman at the time thought the car was going to be a VIP special and had arranged for all those little extras to be installed.

I was very happy with my deal. Now all I had to do was flog off my old car. She wasn't a bad vehicle and was good for a few more years of reliable service. If it hadn't been for this stroke of luck I'd have retained her for those few years myself.

I put in an ad offering my old car for a reasonable price, or what I thought was a reasonable price. Knowing people would want to beat the price down I had added a couple of hundred extra so they could twist my arm and talk me down to the real price. If pushed I might even go a hundred or so lower than that, but that was reaching the reluctant stage as I knew what it was worth.

I had the usual assortment come around looking. Those who thought I was an idiot and would let them have the car for next to nothing. Those who were genuine idiots and didn't have the money just yet but if I would just trust them. I explained several times that cash was my preferred method of payment. Personal cheques needed money behind them and I didn't know if they could cover it.

There were a couple of genuine buyers who promptly talked me down the leeway I had built in. They both said they'd think it over and drop past in the next day or so. I suspect that the idea would be to come back in a couple of days and get a little more knocked off. Reasonable tactics and they might work, as I didn't want the thing stuck in my drive forever.

In the afternoon of the second day that I had the car up for sale a young lady came by, interested in purchasing the car. I took one look at her and asked to see her driver's licence because if she didn't have one then I wouldn't be selling her the car. She huffed a bit but extracted her licence, showing that her name was Alice, she was eighteen, and a certified driver.

She looked the car over and seemed to know what she was doing. I mentioned this and she told me her father was a mechanic and taught her all about cars so she wouldn't find herself stranded not knowing what to do. Alice seemed to approve of everything and asked if she could take it for a test drive.

I passed her the keys and hopped in the passenger's seat, leaving her to go. She hopped in, started the car, and backed out onto the road quite competently. She drove it around for about fifteen minutes, giving it a fair workout, before returning to my place.

"It's OK, I guess," she said, "but a bit pricey. What will you really take for it?"

I smiled and knocked a hundred off the price.

"Oh, come on," she protested. "That's still way too much. Surely you can do better than that."

I lost my smile, sighed, and knocked off another hundred.

She winced and bit her lip.

"That's still a little high," she said carefully. "It is an older car, you know."

"Yes, I know," I said agreeably. "One that's in excellent condition, as you know. Why don't you say what you think would be an appropriate price?"

She bit her lip and then offered an amount that was another two hundred down. I was shaking my head when she asked if we could discuss it inside over a cup of coffee. I shrugged and agreed. I wouldn't mind the coffee and a friendly chat wouldn't hurt. Hell, I might even knock off that extra two hundred. It wasn't going to worry me.

I showed her into the front room and told her to take a seat while I made some coffee. She smiled and nodded, sinking gracefully into the seat. I made some coffee and returned with the coffee on a tray along with some milk and sugar in case she wanted them.

We enjoyed the coffee, talking about nothing in particular, me waiting for her to broach the subject and her not in any great hurry to do so.

As soon as the coffee was finished she sighed and made her confession. She really liked the car and wanted it but the price she'd quoted was all the money she had. It would take her weeks to get another couple of hundred and I'd probably have sold it by then as she knew I couldn't really hold it for her.

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, trying to look serious, already resigned to the fact that I was going to let her have it at her price. Then she upped the stakes.

"I'm sure we can come to an agreement," she said, blushing slightly, as she dropped something frilly on the coffee table.

"Stand up," I said softly, rising to my feet and moving around in front of her.

Still blushing she did so and I reached down and lifted the front of her dress. A neat little tuft of curls was on display, no panties there to hinder the view.

"Do you understand what you're doing?" I asked, and she nodded quickly, her blush rising higher. She was also breathing a little heavier, her lips slightly parted and her tongue just visible between them. The very idea was exciting her, arousing her.

"In that case, if you're prepared to take the consequences, you may finish getting undressed and I'll be prepared to sell you a car."

She didn't have much else on, just her dress and a bra. The weather was warm and there was no need for heavier clothing. It doesn't take long for a young lady to take of a couple of items of clothing. Ages for them to put them on, but they come off quite fast.

I'd moved to the couch to give her room and I watched her appreciatively. She had an excellent figure and I was going to take full advantage of it.

She stood there, naked, hands behind her back, looking at me. She wasn't exactly being brazen, more nervously excited, anticipating what was to come. I idly wondered how experienced she was and whether she really understood what was to come. With what I intended I doubted it.

I held out my hand and she moved closer and took it. I gave her a sympathetic smile and then pulled firmly, drawing her face down over my lap, my free hand coming down in a stinging spank upon her bottom.

That wasn't all my hand did. As soon as it had landed it went slithering over her bottom and between her legs, firmly rubbing the goodies I found there. Then I lifted my hand for a second spank (accompanied by a friendly massage -- a very friendly massage). I also started to give her a little lecture, ignoring her outraged yell.

I explained to her just what an idiot she had been and the dangers inherent in her thoughtless action. She protested and tried to make excuses and I continued to give her a very nice spanking, at the same time working on her arousal between each spank.

Once her bottom had a nice warm glow to it I ceased the spanking part of my attention, concentrating on the massaging, also switching from lecture mode to flattering, telling her what a wonderful body she had, giving confirmation of this by fondling her breasts as well as her mound.

I turned her around so she finished up sitting on my lap. I had one hand between her legs, one on her back helping to hold her in place, and I was leaning forward, my mouth starting to worship her breasts. I could feel her pressing her groin against my hand, wanting more, and I was quite ready to give her more.

I eased her down onto the carpet on the grounds that there was a lot more room there. I knelt next to her and my trousers and such went down and my erection most certainly leapt up. To my surprise her eyes opened wide and she looked quite shocked.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, sounding unusually nervous.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" I retorted. "I'm taking what you offered."

"Wait, wait, wait," she said, flapping her hands around. "I didn't mean to go that far. I thought some, ah, touching and things like that. That's all."

"Bovine excrement," I said succinctly, and watched her try to translate it. She flushed after she did.

"No really," she protested.

"You knew precisely what you were offering," I told her. "If you hadn't already known then my little lecture spelt it out, and I didn't hear you protesting then. Getting cold feet, are you?"

I had a toe pressing against her ankle, easing her legs further apart. She was making no effort to stop me so I just carried on, spreading her legs nicely. I moved so I was kneeling between her thighs, leaning forward slightly so my cock was lightly touching her.

I stroked up and down her slit, letting her feel me pressing against her. No matter what she said she was aroused, her lips parted and glistening with an expectant wetness.

Alice was looking everywhere but at me, breathing harder. I suspected that she was very close to panicking so I took steps.

"Alice, look at me. That's a good girl. Now I want you to watch what I'm doing to you. I'll take it nice and slow and if you feel you're not capable of handling it let me know and I'll stop."

I mean, really, I wasn't that large. Maybe her boyfriend was a little on the small side. Whatever, she propped herself up on her elbows, looking at where my cock was brushing against her. I eased her lips slightly apart, pressed in slightly, and let her lips close over the head of my cock.

Alice made a funny little sound but didn't try to stop me and I pressed in a little more firmly. Only a little as I promptly came to a surprising fact. Sweet little Alice was a virgin. Now what was I supposed to do? Be a gentleman and withdraw or be a cad and carry on? I chose option three, let Alice decide.

"If I'd known you were a virgin we wouldn't have reached this point," I reprimanded her. "That spanking would also have been a lot harder. Are you prepared for me to keep going?"

Her eyes flicked up to look me in the face and then dropped back down to where my cock was entering her. Her blush rose and she took a deep breath.

"Do it," she said. "Now. Do it."

I did it. I pressed harder and her virginity gave way without a struggle, with Nancy only giving a little surprised yip. But with that obstacle out of the way I surged triumphantly down her passage. In a manner of speaking -- I actually took my time, giving her passage a chance to yield and let me pass, which it seemed happy to do. The actual triumphant surging could wait for another occasion, if I ever got the chance.

Nancy was still looking at where our groins were firmly pressing against each other.

"I don't believe it," she gasped. "I'm actually doing it. Why didn't you stop me?"

"Stop you?" I asked incredulously. "Are you mad?"

She blushed and I gave her an evil grin.

"Besides, you're not actually doing it yet. Just preparing to."

"What?"

I pulled back and returned nice and firmly, watching her eyes open wide as I did so. Before she could comment I was repeating the action, at the same time telling her to get with it and move with me.

After a few false starts she managed to latch onto the rhythm, moving with me. It turned out that she was a verbally appreciative partner. There were a lot of short cries expressing approval, a nonstop patter of delighted sounds.

I kept things at a reasonable pace to start with, letting her arousal build. My hands were enjoying the feel of her breasts as she writhed under me, adding that little extra to the erotic feelings tormenting her.

When her cries became a little incoherent I picked up the pace, pleased to see that her cries now became a lot more incoherent, while she put a fair effort into keeping up with me.

The nice thing about a vocal partner was the fact that you could tell from their tone how close they are to climaxing. I picked my moment and then really got to work, pounding her pussy for all I was worth. It didn't take long. She gave a shocked scream and climaxed, which I took as permission to let loose my own load.

I moved away from her and she sat up, looking somewhat surprised. Before she could say anything I spoke up.

"You might want to take a quick shower before you get dressed," I told her. "While you're doing that I'll get all the paperwork for the car sorted out."

She grabbed her cloths, blushing fiercely, and went scampering out of the room. I went into the kitchen and got the paperwork. When she joined me, dressed and still blushing, I indicated where she had to sign. She read the documents before she signed them and then dug in her purse and produced an envelope and handed it to me. A quick check showed it was the agreed amount.

"If you're going to go down to the Registration Office to file the papers and pay the transfer fee I can leave the plates on the car," I told her. "If you're not going to register the transfer for a few days I need to remove the plates and deposit them at the Registration Office."

"Transfer fee?" she asked.

"Of course. When did any government organisation do anything without a fee? I've actually calculated the fee payable. It's on that last document you signed."

Apparently she hadn't read the documents as carefully as she thought. She started chewing on her lip.

"Don't tell me. You don't have the money for the transfer."

"Um, the car cost more than I expected to have to pay," she admitted.

"Maybe, but I also sold it for less than I expected to get. You have got a bargain there."

She looked so woebegone that I said to hell with it. The money for the car was all cream as far as I was concerned. I extracted fifty from the envelope and handed it to her.

"That will cover the registration fee," I pointed out. "I suggest that you go down to the Registration Office and finalise the transfer right away."

She was all thank you, thank you, thank you, as she danced out to her nice new car.

"I just don't know how to thank you enough," she said, all smiles, as she settled in behind the wheel.

"I do," I replied. "Come back tomorrow and I'll show you."

She blushed but didn't lose her smile. She slipped the car into drive and departed.

I watched her go, wondering if she'd be back the next day to thank me properly. One could only hope.