The Car Dealership

Our old minivan needed repairs that were too expensive to be worth the investment. Even though minivans aren't the most exciting vehicle, having school-aged kids necessitated that we purchase another one. So, on one warm spring day while the kids were at school, we made a visit to the largest car dealership in the area.

"Hi, I'm Tom!" A friendly salesman greeted us the moment we walked through the sliding glass doors. Visiting a car dealership comes with the unspoken rule that the first person to greet you becomes the salesperson who 'owns' you for the duration of your visit.

We had no idea how true that would be with Tom.

+++ HUSBAND'S POV +++

As we sat across the desk from Tom and discussed our options, it slowly dawned on me that a secondary exchange also seemed to be taking place. Although Tom did address me at times, his gaze was mostly fixated upon my beautiful wife.

I wasn't really bothered by it - at least not at first. My petite wife was quite attractive; it wasn't the first time a guy had brazenly shown interest in her despite me being right there. Similarly, judging by my wife's body language, she also appeared to be fairly enamored with Tom, who I might fall into her 'handsome older man' category. Either way, I figured that a little harmless flirting never hurt anyone; in fact, maybe it would get us a better deal!

Adding to my suspicions, Tom eventually asked my wife a question that had nothing to do with the intent of our visit. "Have you ever driven a high-end performance car?"

She shook her head no.

The eager salesman quickly followed up: "Would you like to?"

My wife's response was notably energetic. "Um ... sure!!!"

"It's a stick shift," he told her. "Do you know how to handle a stick?"

The way he articulated "stick" seemed to imply a sexual connotation - but perhaps I was making too much out of it. Either way, my wife responded honestly, "Um ... not really."

"Well, I can show you," Tom replied. With a wry smile, he added, "You seem like the kind of girl that could handle a stick."

+++ WIFE'S POV +++

I hadn't been entirely sure if Tom was trying to flirt with me or not - until he dropped that fairly obvious innuendo into the conversation.

Why yes, I thought to myself proudly, I DO know how to handle a 'stick.' My husband - and all of my previous sexual partners, for that matter - had breathlessly given me that feedback more than once.

I smiled back at Tom.

Even though he was probably 10 years older than me, I'd always had a soft spot for older men, and he was stunningly handsome. His penetrating blue eyes, gray stubble, strong jawline ... fuck, just studying his face was making me wet. I began to daydream about the likelihood of his chest - and other parts of his body - being as thick and strong as his chiseled arms.

+++ HUSBAND +++

There was a prolonged silence after Tom had made that "handle a stick" comment to my wife.

When I glanced sideways to see why she hadn't responded, I noticed that she seemed lost in her own world. I was about to tap her arm to bring her back into reality when Tom beat me to it: "So ... would you like to?"

As if she'd been startled awake, my wife's head suddenly jerked forward. Proving that she hadn't been totally detached from reality, however, she commented, "Well, yes ... but shouldn't we be looking at the minivans on the lot??"

Tom quickly waved her off. "Oh, they're not going anywhere. Tell you what - while we get you behind the wheel to have a fun little ride, I'll ask one of my assistants to show your husband around the lot. He can narrow down your options before we get back."

For the first time in quite a while, Tom swiveled in his chair to face me directly. "You're the boss anyway, right? Whatever you say goes??"

I wasn't sure if his question was genuine, and it didn't help when my wife laughed out loud, "Oh, so you think my husband can just get whatever he wants?"

Tom's reply was quick. "Well, he got you, so he must've done something right."

Before either of us could react to his obvious flirt, Tom stood up swiftly from his chair. "Let me go find someone to show your husband around."

+++ WIFE +++

"Well, he's certainly confident!" I made that comment to my husband as soon as Tom was out of earshot ... and instantly regretted it. Ugh - why did I just say that?!? What if my husband suspects that I find him attractive??

Indeed, the subconscious reaction on my husband's face seemed to suggest that he was - at least partially - suspicious. Slowly, he responded, "Yes ... he's ummm ... very persuasive."

Nervously, I asked, "Do you mind if I take him up on his offer?"

To my relief, my husband simply shrugged. "Whatever."

+++ HUSBAND +++

A few minutes after Tom had walked away, the assistant who he returned with made me quickly overlook the awkwardness of his flirtatious interactions with my wife.

"I'm Olivia," she said with an open smile, extending her hand to shake mine first.

I swallowed hard and instinctually sat up a little taller. "Hi, nice to meet you!"

As she pivoted to greet my wife, I seized the brief window of opportunity to scan her amazing figure. About 5'9" with dark hair pulled back into a long ponytail, Olivia was dressed professionally, yet also in a way that revealed her assets. The partially-unbuttoned nature of her white blouse provided a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, and her form-fitting pencil skirt showcased her curvaceous hips and very cute ass.

As my gaze traveled back up to Olivia's beautiful face with its sparkling green eyes and plump kissable lips, she cheerily addressed my wife: "So I hear you're gonna go out for a drive while I show your husband around?"

+++ WIFE +++

Shortly after my husband departed with Olivia - who was so stunningly beautiful that I couldn't help but be slightly envious - I walked out with Tom to the most high-end performance car I've ever sat in. After he gave me a quick orientation, I started it up and began to drive.

Well, not really - what I was doing couldn't really be called 'driving.' It was horrible. I was basically just inducing whiplash.

To Tom's credit, he didn't seem too bothered - in fact, the more I mashed the gears, the more he just chuckled. Although I was grateful that he wasn't upset, his laughter fueled a growing sense of embarrassment. Eventually, to my great relief, he graciously offered some assistance. "Hunny, would you like some help?"

His use of the word hunny caught me off guard. My heart fluttered a little bit. "Uhh ... sure."

"How about this," Tom continued, in a tone that sounded more gentle than condescending. "I'll put my hand over yours so we can shift the gears together, and when it's time for you to push the clutch, I can either tap or squeeze your leg. Which would you prefer?"

I had gotten so flustered when I envisioned him holding my hand down onto the top of his knob - fuck, the knob of the car, I mean - that I didn't immediately recognize that he'd asked me a question.

Noticing that, Tom repeated, "Would you rather have me tap your leg or squeeze it?"

"Ummm ... I dunno," I stammered, overwhelmed by how helpless I felt. "Squeeze, I guess?"

As if he'd been hoping for that answer, he smiled warmly. His left arm slowly extended toward me. As he softly laid his hand on my right thigh, I held my breath. Most of his hand landed on the bottom hem of my flimsy sun dress, but - perhaps intentionally - a couple of his fingers touched my bare skin. My body shivered, but not because I was cold.

Immediately after that, his other hand enveloped my dainty little hand that was grasping the top of the shifter for dear life. As his fingers interlocked with mine, my insides trembled.

"Ready?" His voice was nonchalant, as if it was no big deal that his hands were on me.

If he was calm, I was the exact opposite. There was a fire burning inside of me. I forced myself to take a deep breath - but taking that deep breath caused my chest to rise, and I noticed him steal a peek at my rising breasts.

I exhaled as quickly as I could. "Sure," I chirped nervously. "I'll try again!"

+++ HUSBAND +++

Although it was a long walk to get to the corner of the lot where the vans were parked, being with Olivia made the time pass quickly. As we neared the jet-black minivan that Tom had recommended, though, Olivia groaned aloud, "Ugh, people do NOT know how to park!!"

I saw what she meant. The two cars parked on either side of the van were practically touching it; there was no way we'd be able to open either set of doors wide enough to squeeze in. Just as I thought of an alternative solution, however, Olivia verbalized the very same one: "Well, one benefit of minivans is that you can lay the seats flat & climb in through the back!"

"True!" After she hit the button to automatically raise the rear liftgate, we stood side-by-side and stowed the rear seats into their lay-flat position. Once that was finished, I casually offered, "Ladies first!" Selfishly, I was hoping for an uninhibited view of her backside. To my delight, Olivia didn't object.

Knowingly or not, she put on quite a show as she crawled toward the front of the van. Her short skirt - which rose more than halfway up her amazing thighs - barely covered the place where her legs came together. As an image flashed into my mind of what she might look like in that position without the skirt on, I suddenly became nervous that someone on the lot might catch me ogling her. I quickly looked around, but - fortunately - I didn't see anyone. As she neared the front seats, I too climbed in as casually as possible, and she pressed the 'close' button.

+++ WIFE +++

The first time that Tom squeezed my leg, it caught me slightly off guard, but it did prompt me to step on the clutch, and we shifted hand-over-hand. A few seconds later, he squeezed my leg again, and I did it again. Success. Every time his squeeze prompted me to push the clutch, he immediately shifted, and we quickly found a nice rhythm together. Once we were cruising smoothly down the country road, Tom removed his hands and set them back in his lap.

"You can keep your hand on my leg." The impulsivity of my own words surprised me. Feeling a bit vulnerable, I attempted to minimize it by quickly adding, "I mean, since I'm not sure when I'll have to push the clutch again."

I didn't look at him, but I could tell that Tom had pivoted in his seat to study me. "You sure?"

My mind was being bombarded with naughty thoughts that went way beyond his hand being on my leg. I subconsciously bit my bottom lip and nodded slowly. "Mmhmm."

The moment he put his hand back, I felt the butterflies take flight in my stomach ... and a different type of quivering take place a bit further down.

Simultaneously, I noticed that his hand was resting a bit higher up my thigh than where it had been before. With a mixture of nervousness and excitement, I assumed that he had done that intentionally. I labeled myself a bad wife for secretly wishing that he'd placed it even higher.

+++ HUSBAND +++

In the midst of pointing out the minivan's features, Olivia presented one detail in an interesting way: "As you probably noticed, the windows have a high degree of tint ... which is helpful if you ever want to do other things in here besides transport the kids." She winked at me.

Her slightly-flirtatious comment prompted me to unashamedly disclose a true confession: "Yes, that is helpful. We may have done that before." I winked back.

Olivia raised a well-manicured eyebrow. "Oh really?? In a minivan?"

I laughed. "Like you said earlier, it's very convenient that the seats lay flat."

Even though no one was around, she lowered her voice. "One time? Or more than once?"

I grinned confidently. "More than once."

Olivia looked impressed. "Where? Like, where did you park the van?"

Although I was surprised at where our conversation had drifted, another part of me was wickedly delighted. "Typically, it's been in the corner of some random parking lot."

I chuckled as a memory popped into my head. "This one time, at the East City Mall, we had parked far away from all the other cars, but the security guard drove up and shined his truck's spotlight into the van. We had to lay flat and stay totally still until we heard him drive off."

Olivia laughed. "Omigosh, that would be sooo terrifying ... but that's also really hot!!" Before I could say anything, she added: "I've never been with anyone who was willing to fuck in a car!"

Immediately - as if suddenly remembering that she was at work and on the clock - Olivia clasped her hand over her mouth. Through her hand, she mumbled, "I am sooooo sorry. I should not have said that."

The thought of Olivia getting fucked in a car was painfully arousing. I didn't dare look down, but I was pretty sure that my internal arousal was beginning to have outward manifestations. I vehemently waved off her apology. "No, no, don't worry about that at all."

+++ WIFE +++

As I kept driving, I kept glancing down at the precarious placement of Tom's hand. A sinful part of me wanted to slump down in the seat to force his fingertips to come into contact with my desperately-aching crotch, but another part of me - horrified by my adulterous thoughts - felt frozen in place and scared to even move my leg.

Either way, though, the presence of his hand had also exposed a different problem: it made me aware that I had an itch. Down there. Ladies know what it's like when you have an itch down there; it's hard to think about anything other than getting relief. Such was my predicament.

Eventually, despite the obvious vulnerability, I had to do something about it. Groaning aloud in dismay, I slipped my hand inside my sundress and vehemently scratched the inner crease of my thigh. My eyelids fluttered as I finally found relief.

Obviously, Tom noticed, and humorously remarked, "Itch?"

"Uh-huh," I groaned, still unashamedly going to town.

Tom chuckled, but then - in a much lower voice - added, "You need me to take over?"

Naively, I responded, "The wheel?"

Tom's answer was short and simple. "No."

As I realized what he was insinuating, I was quite taken aback, but I was even more shocked by the response that uncontrollably slipped out of my lips: "Uh-huh."

A couple seconds later, a stranger's fingertips were underneath the thin fabric of my dress and were casually scratching the edges of my pussy.

+++ HUSBAND +++

In an attempt to deflect the unexpected sexual tension that had suddenly filled the minivan, I decided to inquire about something that had been lingering in my mind: the dubious other half of the present situation. I began by asking Olivia, "How long have you worked with Tom?"

"A little over 3 years," she replied.

A bit nervously, I asked my follow-up question: "In those years that you've known him, how often does he invite customers to drive that sports car?"

Instead of directly answering, however, Olivia clarified, "You mean his sports car?"

Surprised, I reacted, "Wait ... that's his personal car??"

"Yeah," Olivia answered. "He likes to impress the cute young girls that come through here." She started to chuckle, but then - perhaps noticing the odd expression on my face? - she stopped just as abruptly and added, "They're usually single though. In fact, I don't ever remember him taking out a wife for a drive while her husband stayed behind."

Although I think she was trying to reassure me, I wasn't quite sure how to view the atypical exception that had been made for my wife. Before I could ask other questions, though, Olivia beat me to it: "How old is your wife, anyway? She's really pretty."

"Thanks," I said shyly. "She's 41, actually."

Olivia's eyebrows raised. "No way!! She looks way younger than that. She's adorable."

As I mumbled another half-embarrassed "thanks," Olivia looked at me quizzically with a slightly devious grin. "I'm curious - how old do you think I am?"

I swallowed. After taking a moment to carefully craft an answer to her loaded question, I responded vaguely: "Old enough to know what you want, but young enough to be dangerous."

Olivia looked both amused and slightly puzzled. "Dangerous?? How so???"

I shrugged and answered honestly, "I bet you could get any guy to do pretty much whatever you want."

Olivia's expression rapidly melted into one of delighted fascination. "Oh yeah? Any guy??? Even a married guy like you??"

It scared me to suddenly recognize how true that was for me - indeed, I'd probably be willing to do anything she asked of me. A bit frightened by that realization, I redirected the conversation back to the prior topic. "Speaking of being married ..."

+++ WIFE +++

Moaning uncontrollably, I instinctively spread my thighs apart to allow better access to Tom's fingers. Only the thin silky layer of my panties kept him from exploring my insides - but even that couldn't stop him from noticing something else.

"You're really wet," he whispered softly.

That sent me over the edge. "I need to pull over," I sputtered. "I can't drive anymore."

+++ HUSBAND +++

I quickly asked Olivia my other remaining questions: "How long do you think my wife will be out with Tom? When he takes out those 'cute young girls,' do you know where they typically go?"

Olivia shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I'm usually preoccupied with other tasks - until today, he's never asked me to fill in for him while he's gone - but my guess is that they're typically gone for about an hour. Perhaps they go out to the country roads up north?"

Internally, I thought to myself, An hour? That seems like a lot of time to just 'drive around.' With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I hesitatingly broached the key question that I had been reluctant to ask: "He takes them out to ... umm ... seduce them, doesn't he?"

Olivia's face turned beet red.

In the absence of a verbal response from her, I personalized that same question. "He took out my wife to seduce her, didn't he?"

After a long period of silence that felt like an eternity, Olivia quietly ventured a hesitant response. "Honestly ... I don't know for sure." Looking at me with soft eyes, she continued, "But yeah, usually when he comes back from one of these rides with some girl, they both look pretty ... umm ... satisfied. And he typically sells the vehicle to them for way less than sticker price."

For some reason, Olivia's response inadvertently gave me a measure of relief. Although I didn't know for sure what might be happening along some far-out country road, actually picturing my wife doing inappropriate things with Tom was somehow better than worrying about if she was or not.

Fueled by that strange new arousal, my feelings of worry and anger and jealousy rapidly evaporated. I even managed to joke about it. "Well, I hope we get a good deal out of it then!"

Olivia looked stunned. "You're not upset?!?"

I shrugged. "I mean, at this point, what can I do about it anyway??"

Olivia slowly formulated her response. "Wow - that's really ... well, in my opinion, I think that makes you a really confident man."

I smiled warmly as I expressed my appreciation for her comment. "Thanks. I'm sure I'll have to deal with it later. In the meantime, I don't want to waste the pleasure of your company!"

+++ WIFE +++

As soon as I had blurted out my need to pull over, Tom immediately shifted his grip to my inner thigh and helped me find the right timing to rapidly downshift. Once we'd come to a complete stop in the short grass along the side of the road, he removed his hands and shifted to face me.

"I've never seen anyone stop so fast," he chuckled. "Now, when you said that you 'can't drive anymore' - does that mean you want me to take you back to the dealership? OR does that mean you want me to ... ahem ... give you a bit more of a ride?" He winked.