The Junkyard


It's a perfect summer day - lot's of sun, light breeze, and not a cloud in the sky. We're at a junkyard to look around and see if they have any parts you can use for the old convertible you're restoring. After we pull into the grassy parking area, you pull me across the seat toward you and start kissing me and playing with my breasts, pulling down my tube-top so you can squeeze and bite them freely. You've always had this fascination with my nipples, which are large and dark pink and can't be missed when they're hard. It always gives you a charge when we're out in public somewhere and the outline of them shows through whatever shirt I'm wearing. I know you get off on other guys looking at me and noticing my hard nipples. I'm not particularly crazy about being seen like that, but knowing what it does for you once we're back home, I put up with it as a small price to pay for amazing sex.

Regardless of how I look in a shirt afterwards, I do love when you play with my breasts. And you know just how much I do. We can be in a completely un-sexual situation and all it takes is for you to reach out and give my nipples a good, firm tweak. I can be mad at you, but if you get close enough to start fondling me, I'm done. Sometimes I'd swear you get me all pissed off on purpose just so you can do that to me.

So here we are in this otherwise empty parking lot, me half-naked and getting hotter by the second. We can't see the office from where we're parked, so I lean back and lay down on the bench seat of your truck, lifting up my legs to wrap them around you and pull you down on top of me. You're apparently of the same mind as you reach up under my skirt and pull my panties down and off. You toss them on the floor after taking a moment to feel how wet I am, then abruptly open the door behind you and pull me outside.

Once outside of the relative privacy of the truck, I quickly pull up my top and push down my skirt while looking around to make sure no one's seen me looking like the slut I must surely look like. There's no one in sight but you, laughing softly at my panic-stricken face and my confusion. You pull me close to you and apologize, telling me that we need to get going because we still have a lot to do today and we're already behind schedule. You promise you'll make it up to me later. With a theatrical sigh of disappointment I concede, turning to reach back into the truck for my underwear.

Before I can reach through the door, you take my hand and start to pull me toward the office. I look a question at you and you just give me a big grin, pulling me onward. I pull back, saying that I at least need to get a jacket to wear over the tube top - I can't go running around looking like you paid for me. This time you concede, letting me grab an old button-up shirt of yours from behind the seat. I put it on and, after a look from you, leave it unbuttoned and hanging open. You once again take my hand and off we go, me feeling sneaky and sexy and a bit embarrassed even though I know that no one but the two of us knows I've got no panties on. Just before we walk into the office to talk with the owner, you turn towards me and give both my nipples a quick couple of squeezes to perk them up. Before I can pull your shirt around me, you open the door and pull me into the office.

Inside it's a mess. Everywhere you look there are car parts. There's easily a dozen metal shelving units filled with them, crammed wherever there's space. Every surface has parts on it, including the desk and floor, making a maze of walking across the room. The owner is sitting at the desk, cleaning what looks to be an old carburetor. He's a kind of skeevy-looking older guy, with grey stubble on his face, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a couple of missing teeth in his grin. He looks up at us as we come in, making no effort to hide his staring at my chest. I'm terribly embarrassed, feeling very self-conscious since I know exactly what he's looking at. I look down and see my nipples still standing firmly at attention, paying no heed to my wish for them to go back into hiding.

I try to pull away from you so I can wander around and get out of sight of the owners leering, but you keep firm hold of my hand, making me stay right by your side. As you introduce yourself and explain what you're looking for, I look around, not wanting to look at the owner and the gleam in his eyes. You feel my discomfort and give my hand a reassuring squeeze, continuing to talk cars and car parts with the old man. As I peer around, tuning the both of you out, you let go of my hand and quickly put your arm around me, holding me still to your side while you discreetly start squeezing my ass.

At this point I don't know what to do. I can't tell if the old man knows what you are doing behind my back, but I do and I try to gently squirm away. Rather than letting me go, you drop your hand a bit lower and put your hand up the back of my skirt, giving yourself a firm grip on my ass cheek so I can't go anywhere without showing my bare ass to the guy. I am now convinced I'm going to drop dead any second from sheer embarrassment, but you ignore me and continue to squeeze my ass while chatting away with the owner.

Eventually the two of you come to some agreement on what you need and he excuses himself so that he can go into the back room and look for it. As soon as I hear his footsteps recede into the other room behind us, I turn around to ask you just what in the hell do you think you're doing? You start laughing and pull me to you, kissing me and apologizing but still laughing. You tell me it's all my fault for spreading my legs for you in the truck when I knew we didn't have the time to finish. You see me about to yell at you some more and reach up and start fondling my breasts to shut me up.

It works.

Instead of cussing you, I hear a soft moan pass through my lips. Damn the primitive brain. You sit back on the desk, pulling me up close between your legs. While you kiss my neck, you reach up and pull down my top, giving you full access once again to my breasts. Taking one in each hand, you start pinching and pulling on my nipples, knowing it makes me crazy. I start to protest, saying that the old guy's gonna be back any second now, but you just scoot farther down on the desk so you can take one of my nipples in between your teeth and put a hand under my skirt.

As you start to nibble and tease my breasts, alternating between soft kisses and solid bites, you easily slide a couple of fingers inside me. I am now completely at your mercy; all thoughts of the old man have gone from my mind. I begin to move around on your hand, angling myself to get you farther inside of me. Instead of giving me what you know I want, you pull your fingers out of me and slowly have them trace their way back toward my ass and the other opening there. Well lubricated as your fingers now are, you quickly slip one inside of me, making me jump and squirm at it's intrusion. With your other hand, you lift up the back of my skirt and tuck it into the waist band, giving anyone who might be behind me an alarmingly good view of what you're doing to me. I briefly panic about the old man walking in on this scene, but then you start to slide your finger back and forth inside of me and once again, he's gone from my head.

I reach down in front of me for you, trying to find your zipper to set you free and return the favor, but instead of letting me, you use your free hand to grasp mine and move it firmly back to my side, implying it should stay there. A you are sitting on the desk, you take advantage of the freedom to wrap your legs around mine and pull them apart, giving you better access. You let go of the hand hanging tensely at my side and reach behind me to give me a hard smack on my bare bottom. Before I can say anything, you bite down on the nipple that's in your mouth while shushing me at the same time. I can't do anything but obey you - you have total control over me.

It's at this time that we both here footsteps coming from the back room. I start to panic, trying to pull away from you before the old man walks in and sees me in this shameful state.

Before you let me go, you look me in the eye to still my squirming and then give my ass a few more resounding slaps. I can feel my cheeks turning red from their sting and wonder if you've left hand-prints behind as evidence of your ownership. Finally you let me go, removing your finger from inside me and pulling my skirt back down, leaving me feeling empty, unfinished, still randy as hell, and relieved all at the same time.

I don't have time to pull tube top up, so just grasp the edges of the other shirt and pull them taught across my front. With a quick glance down I can see my nipples, seemingly larger than life, poking against the thin material. Not only are they hard, but swollen nearly twice their normal size and leaving faint damp marks on the shirt. I'm horrified at how transparent our activities must be to the old man and look up to see him standing there, blatantly staring and smiling at the proof of what we've been doing. I am frozen to the spot, feeling both sets of leering male eyes on me, and can only look down at the floor and suffer silently.

After a few more seconds that lasted an eternity, you break the silence and begin finalizing your transaction with the old man. As soon as you are done, I turn to leave, pulling you along with me. As we go out through the door, you get in the last word by reaching down and lifting the back of my skirt, giving the guy a clear look at my still-red ass and the moisture that has begun to drip down my legs.

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