Stall Him

"Jack, where's Martin's car?"

I'd just noticed that Martin's car was no longer parked in our driveway and Jack was home so he obviously hadn't borrowed it.

"It's OK. I lent it to Paul for the afternoon. He's always wanted to drive a decent sports car and this is probably the only chance he'll get."

"Was that wise? Paul is not the most sensible driver in the world. I believe when a similar request went from Paul to Martin the answer referred to dead bodies, and Martin wasn't talking about his own."

"Geez, woman, you worry too much. Paul knows better than to do anything to damage the car and he certainly won't get himself booked in it. He'll have it back here this evening and Martin will never know."

"And just what did Paul do to persuade you to let him have the car? Blackmail or bribery?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," scoffed Jack. "Blackmail, indeed."

"Ah. Bribery. How much?"

"Fifty if you must know. No harm in it. If Martin notices the extra mileage I'll just say I took you for a spin in it. He's got a soft spot for you so he'll let it pass."

"You don't think he might be a little suspicious when he fronts up to collect his car and finds it missing and you and me here?"

"He won't. You can trust Paul to have it back this evening with no worries."

"The trouble is Martin likes his car. You can trust him to be around here to collect it as soon as he gets back from his trip."

"And that's on the twentieth and that's tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is the twenty first," I gently pointed out.

"Oh, fuck," yelled Jack, hauling out his phone to check the date. "Oh, double fuck. I'm dead. He'll kill me. He'll bury me the backyard, right next to Paul. We are so dead."

"I suggest you get the car back. If you're lucky Paul can get it here before Martin shows up."

"More likely Paul will drive up just as Martin gets here. I know. I'll tell Paul to meet me at his place and I'll drive it back from there. If Martin's already here I'll tell him I took it down to get some petrol to make up for the run I took you on. That'll work."

Jack whipped out his phone, breathing a sigh of relief when he contacted Paul. There was a short conversation, studded with some expressive language as they contemplated their likely fate.

"Listen, love, Paul needs half an hour to get back. I'll head around to his place to meet him. If Martin turns up stall him. I don't care if you have to accidentally knock him out - stall him."

"What do I tell him when he asks where you and the car are?"

"Ah, I'm getting fuel and asking the mechanic to listen to the engine as I think it's running a bit rough. That'll cover any delay."

Forty five minutes to an hour before he'd be back with Martin's pride and joy. Well, there was nothing I could do about it right now so I just went on with what I'd been doing and hoped for the best.

Not having paid my dues to the good-luck fairy I didn't get the best. Barely fifteen minutes after Jack left Martin rolled up in a taxi. Of course, I told myself. How else would he get here? His car is here, in theory.

Martin knocked on the door and I reluctantly answered.

"Martin, what a pleasant surprise. Come on in."

I was all over him like a rash, practically dragging him through to the kitchen, talking all the while. If I was talking, he wasn't, and if he wasn't, he wasn't asking questions about his car.

I blathered on, getting him to sit and have some coffee. He finally broke through all the verbiage I was throwing up, asking pointedly, "My car?"

That was my cue to start talking about his wonderful car.

"Jack took me for a drive in it yesterday," I humbly admitted. "He said you wouldn't mind." I tried to look a little guilty at that point. "That car is wonderful. You just seem to glide along. And the engine is so silent when you're in the car. Our car you can barely hear yourself talk, it's so noisy."

"That's nice but exactly where is my car?" Martin managed to slip into the conversation.

"It's in the drive, isn't it?" I asked, looking doubtful. "Oh, no, it isn't, is it. Jack took it. I know he told me what to tell you when you arrived but it seems to have gone completely out of my head. I can be quite scatter-brained at times. A terrible fault, I know. I know he mentioned fuel to cover our little trip yesterday and he said he thought he'd better see the mechanic while he was there. Something about the engine sounding a bit harsh?"

"Running a bit rough, maybe?" asked Martin, and I had to admire the way he kept control of himself. I could see a little tic at the corner of his eye. I'd seen it before when he was under stress.

"Anyway," I continued, dragging the word out, "what do you think of the current mess the government is in?"

Politics is always a good subject. Men seize on it and go to town, letting all their aggro spill out on the politician of their choice. Martin was no different. He started off at once.

"Well, I have to admit that I'm not too sure what to make of Anderson's latest scheme. It seems to me that applying Keynesian economic theory to the political realities of the education system to ensure that every high school get an approved turbo entabulator at government expense might be going a bit too far. Don't you agree?"

Agree? That statement flew past me so fast I didn't see it coming or going.

"Oh, yes," I agreed. "It seems to me that governments don't always know what they're talking about."

"Neither do some people," Martin said, nodding. "Ah, we don't have anyone named Anderson in the government. The rest of what I said was pure garbage."

He rose to his feet and stretched while I looked at him slightly stunned. He strolled around the kitchen table to stand next to me.

"Up, up," he said, indicating I should stand, which I did, albeit rather nervously.

"Since I walked through the door you've been covering up and stalling," Martin said. "I was so taken aback by the flood of words that it took time for the message to sink through. I gather that you have to stall me so I don't go looking for my car before Jack gets back here with it. Don't let me catching on worry you. I've decided to let you go on stalling me for a while longer."

I was frantically fishing around for the catch when Martin demonstrated what it was. He started undoing my blouse.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, slapping at his hands.

"Helping you to prove what a good wife you are by doing everything you can to stall me," he said, ignoring my slapping hands and finishing undoing the buttons.

"You can't do that," I protested as he brushed the blouse off my shoulders and pulled it down my arms. He calmly tossed it on the table leaving me with just my bra.

"I just did," he pointed out, and then he took hold of my bra and tugged it upwards, my breasts popping out of it with ease. Understandable as it was more decorative than supportive.

"You might as well take this right off now," he said and I quietly fumed and lifted my arms as he pulled the bra up over my head. Like he said, I might as well let it go. My breasts were already out there bouncing around.

"Yes," said Martin, sounding obscenely pleased, "I'm quite sure I'll be stalled for a while with these temptations in front of me."

With that he bent his head and started chomping on one of my breasts while his hand was massaging the other.

"You stop that," I raged at him, trying to push his head away.

All that happened was that he lifted his head, laughed, and started tasting my other breast.

I fumed and hit at him and it was like hitting a brick wall. He didn't even seem to notice what I was doing. On the other hand, I was certainly noticing what he was doing. Both my nipples were standing out, my breasts swelling under his touch, a nasty case of arousal starting to warm me up.

He lifted his head and smiled as he looked at my breasts. They were heaving from my emotions, flushed, with damp nipples. I glared at him.

Martin very ostentatiously lifted his wrist and looked at his watch. Yes, I said watch. One of the few people I know who still wears one.

"That was a very pleasant five minutes but have you stalled me long enough? As Jack and my car aren't back I guess the answer is no. Not a problem. I'm perfectly willing to let you stall me some more."

I was wearing slacks with a built-in belt. I would have been better off wearing skin-tight jeans that needed scissors to assist with their removal. All the slacks needed were the belt undone and a quick tug to pop them past my hips, letting them head south. I hurriedly bent down to grab them and found, to my surprise, that that placed my breasts right where Martin's hands were waiting to receive them. I naturally enough gave a bit of a squeak and straightened back up, while my slacks continued on down.

Despite my protests my panties followed my slacks. Martin had the gall to bob down and slide my feet out of them. He then stood back up, placed his hands on my shoulders, and stood back to look me over. He was smiling broadly as he pulled me closer and ran his hands over me, running down me from my breasts to my groin, his hand sliding between my legs and starting to rub me.

Oh my god, there was nothing I could do to stop him. He just kept touching me, rubbing me, fingers sliding in where they shouldn't. I was breathing hard by this stage, flushed and hot. I was pushing at Martin but I have to confess my heart wasn't really in it.

I was almost quivering when he stepped back for a few moments.

"Time moves so slowly at times, doesn't it," he observed. "I've been filling in a bit of time for you. Now it's your turn to fill in some more time."

With that he calmly unzipped and pulled out this whacking great erection.

"Well?" he asked.

"What do you expect me to do?" I asked. Surely he wasn't suggesting that I have sex with him.

"That's up to you, isn't it?" he asked.

I swallowed nervously and went down onto one knee. I took hold of him and then my mouth closed over him. It had been a while since I'd done this sort of thing but I still knew how. A little gentle suction and my teeth and tongue got busy.

This time I had the advantage. His hands were on my head and I could feel his tenseness, both through his hands and in the way his erection was twitching under my loving caresses. I kept up that gentle movement, taking my time, quite content to torment him with anticipation.

I'll swear his cock was growing while I worked, and the tension him was growing so tight that I could just about hear his nerves twanging as my ministrations teased them.

I was quite surprised when he suddenly pulled me to my feet.

"Your five minutes are up," he said, breathing hard. Actually, I was breathing hard myself.

He moved a little closer to me and I backed up a little, finding the table behind me. Now I was leaning back against the table and he was calmly nudging my feet further apart.

My eyes were open really wide, looking down at where his cock was brushing against me. He adjusted his position slightly, moving even closer, his cock starting to brush back and forth along my slit, coming to a slow stop when it was in the correct position.

I wanted to tell him no, to say stop, but all I could do was stand and stare, knowing what was coming. It was too late. I didn't want him to stop at this stage. I gasped slightly as he pushed in a little, my lips quite happy to yield to him.

He pushed fully into me. His hands were pressing against the table on either side of me, the only part of him even touching me was his cock, and boy, was that touching me.

He started moving, pulling back and pressing home again, his cock sliding back and forth, stirring me up, with me watching fascinated, seeing this huge cock making use of me, and make no doubt about it, he was using me for his pleasure. OK, I'll admit that it wasn't all one-sided as he was also giving me pleasure at the same time, while I was moving in time to him, pressing urgently to meet him as he thrust.

As he moved his hands came up and covered my breasts again, stroking them while he took me, stirring me up, rousing me. I was making guttural little noises, the urgency within demanding that I respond, pleading for relief.

He pushed me further and further and I was gasping, losing my breath, and then I screamed, climaxing in a big way.

He pulled back from me and looked me up and down.

"Um, should you really be using nudity to stall me?" he asked. "Jack may be home soon, you know. With my car."

I blushed fiercely, grabbed my clothes and bolted. I had a reasonably quick shower and dressed and marched back out, expecting Martin to be gone. He wasn't. He was sitting at the table drinking some coffee. He'd even poured me a cup. I was tempted to pour it on him but sat down and drank it instead.

"Oh, look," Martin said. "Here comes Jack with my car. It seems that you've managed to stall me just long enough."

Jack came bouncing in, happy that things had worked out. I just gave him a cold look. What had happened was his fault and so I was mad at him. If he thought he was getting lucky tonight he had another think coming. I left the two of them talking cars and went to watch TV.