MGB GT V8

Amateur

I really hope the men reading this story are young enough to not remember this car. It’s my husbands pride and joy. He spends so much time tinkering with it that he neglects me ….. And I need much more tinkering with!

I had an appointment in town; we live so far away I could only get to it by driving there myself. The appointment was quite important, as I had decided to go back to work. My kids were at school all day and my man off doing his thing, leaving me rattling around in this big old house on my own.

I got dressed in my best dark blue suit with a white cotton blouse; and my sexiest undies and stockings, not that any one would notice. My skirt comfortably covered them to just below my knee, but it made me feel good. You know what I’m talking about don’t you girls? And the men will just have to use their imagination!

I got into my car – an old Citroen C5. It wouldn’t start. Damn! This was going to make me late, and that’s the worst impression I could give to a prospective employer. What should I do? I went indoors thinking I would have to phone and cancel the appointment, but it was just the job I was looking for – receptionist for a dentist. It’s not everybody’s idea of heaven but the hours would work around my kids coming out of school, and that suited me perfectly.

I went to the phone, and noticed his keys lying on the table. His MGB key fob caught my attention; dare I take his pampered car to get to the interview? I grabbed the keys, without thinking of the consequences if anything happened to that car. I drove away; I had gone about three miles when trouble started. The engine coughed and spluttered. Oh god! It was going to stop on this lonely back road, with me stranded in the middle of nowhere.

The engine coughed once more and died. I coasted the car onto the grass verge and stopped. Thank goodness I had my mobile phone with me. The first call was to my interview, explaining that my car had broken down and I wouldn’t be able to make the appointment. The second should have been to my husband begging his forgiveness; but it was to a garage I normally took my own car to, to ask for their help. If I could get this car back home and parked it where it belonged, he might never know.

I sat in the car waiting for the mechanic to arrive. It took ages, but at last the van came round the corner. This very young man jumped out, his tool box in his hand. He came up to the car as I stepped out. His face was so young, he still had teenage spots.

His smile was as wide as the sky. He asked, “What’s wrong with it then madam?”

“Well, it just coughed and spluttered then stopped,” I replied.

He said, “Open the bonnet for me, please.”

I bent into the car to release the bonnet catch and caught him eyeing up my legs, as I turned to tell him it was now open. He had the cheekiest grin, but he was far too young for me.

He lifted up the bonnet (hood if you are American) and looked inside. I could tell by the look on his face that the car was like nothing he had ever seen before; it had been built before he was born. But he checked one or two things and then said, “There’s not much I can do with this, it’s not a car I’m accustomed to, but I will ring for help.”

He went to the van to fetch his phone. I couldn’t help noticing his shapely young bum in his tight jeans as he walked away. What was I thinking? He wasn’t much older than my son. I couldn’t help but look as he leaned into his van to reach his phone. His jeans pulled tight, showing his cute little ass. Oh god! What was I doing, ogling a boy who was only just out of school?

He called his boss, who told him to stay with me until the breakdown truck arrived, as he thought it was best to tow the car in. I told him I wanted it towed home and left for my husband to repair. That was okay, so we waited …. and waited …. and waited. Well over an hour later the young mechanic called again. The breakdown truck had broken down. Was this my day or what?

But I had other problems; I wanted a pee so badly and there were a few bushes nearby to hide behind. They were only a few feet high. I said I need to take a walk, and strode purposely towards the small clump of shrubs, getting as far behind them as possible I hitched up my skirt and pulled my panties down knowing he would be able to see through the thin branches of the bushes. But I had to go. I squatted down and let my water flow. It sounded so loud in the silence of the lonely country lane.

He must have seen and heard me as I peed there behind the bushes, because when I returned his jeans had a very pronounced bulge in the front. He didn’t try to hide his obvious arousal; in fact he seemed to be flaunting it. He seemed proud of his big bulge, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking at it. My eyes just kept coming back to his crotch, despite his obvious youth.

He seemed aware of my inability to look away, and smiled at me. His teeth were so white and even. He looked like the sort of lad I would want my daughter to bring home in a few years, a really nice country boy with no pretensions, just Uzun porno a sweet kid. However, that wasn’t what was going on in my mind. In fact, at this moment, my family seemed about as far away as they could be. It started to rain – just a few spots but enough to want to get out of it.

I opened the car door and got in. He opened the door on the other side and asked, “Is it alright if I get in too?”

I don’t think he had meant a double intention in his words, but it caught me unawares.

“Yes,” I said, “You can get in.” And I didn’t mean the car.

He sat beside me in the small cockpit. It was tiny. A lot of the old cars of yesteryear were much smaller than what we are used to today. His leg was touching mine and it felt like a brand of fire. My skirt had ridden up a little showing the darker tops of my stockings. His eyes never left that flash of black stocking top. He reached out to touch me. I should have pushed him away, but my hands wouldn’t work. His fingers touched the nylon, and then moved my skirt a little higher until the white flesh of my thigh was showing above my stocking.

He stroked my skin with a reverence I hadn’t experienced for so long. It was like in my early courting days, when feelings were so much bigger and more intense, but he was about the same age as I was then. He probably hadn’t touched a woman’s leg in this way before. Maybe he had with a few young girls but no-one as old and experienced as me.

I knew my tiny lace thong would be wet. It wasn’t big enough to soak up much of my juice and I was producing it in bucketfuls. My pussy was throbbing, making me feel so sexy. What on earth was I doing letting this young man fondle my legs? Even more so on a public road, in my husband’s MGB. Everyone for miles around knew his car, and they might stop if they saw it parked up on the grass verge obviously broken down. How would I be able to explain my wanton behaviour?

I laid my hand over his. “This isn’t a good idea is it? I said, “If we get caught, it would cause all sorts of problems for us both.”

He looked at me and replied, “I might not get another chance like this, and I love older women. They know what it’s all about.”

Cheeky little sod; I wasn’t that old, was I?

The arrival of big breakdown truck stopped anything else happening. The driver got out, and began hooking the truck’s winch to the front of the car. He suggested I get in his cab, out of the rain, while he and this young sexy devil secured the car. He soon had my husband’s car safely loaded onto his truck and we set off back home. He told me that young Mike was going to follow, as he had to go to another breakdown as quickly as possible. Mike would make sure the car was put in the garage.

We pulled into my driveway and I asked the driver if he wanted a cup of tea or coffee, but he refused, saying he needed to get away as soon as possible. I went indoors and watched as the men unloaded the car and the big truck turned around and left. It was raining quite hard now and Mike didn’t have a coat, so I called him to come in out of the rain.

At least that’s what I convinced myself I was doing, but deep inside there was an ulterior motive, I’m sure of that. He came in and sat in my kitchen, his wet clothes dripping all over my clean floor.

“Why don’t you go and have a shower, while I dry your clothes?” I asked, rather cheekily.

He jumped to it. I showed him where the downstairs shower was and he stripped off his wet things, throwing them out into the hall where I stood with my back to him.

I really was trying not to do this, despite the insistent urges coursing through my veins. It was like that huge ride at Blackpool. You want to go on it, but know it’s going to be so bloody scary. I stuffed his clothes into the tumble dryer and made some coffee, not daring to think what was going to happen next. The coffee maker gurgling didn’t help, even that sounded sexy to my over-active mind.

He called from the shower, “Can I use the dressing gown hanging on the back of the door?”

Did I say, “No, come out naked?” as I really wanted him to, or say, “Yes, of course you can,” like a respectable housewife?

Caution won over passion and I shouted, “Yes, that will be fine,” forgetting it was my dressing gown, not my husband’s. Despite his youth he wasn’t a little lad, whereas my size twelve isn’t as trim as I would like. But it was still a lot smaller than him.

He strutted into the kitchen, the robe only just closed across his chest, and not coming any lower than his bum. He looked comical and very sexy dressed like that. I tried not to smile at his obvious embarrassment, but he shouldn’t have started this if he wasn’t up for it. He wasn’t so shy in the car, was he?

We sat at the breakfast bar drinking hot coffee, with even hotter thoughts running through my mind. His robe had fallen open at the front, exposing his chest and probably much more just out of my line of sight. The bar between us prevented me seeing any lower than his waist. I wanted to see what else there Öğrenci porno was on show but daren’t try to look.

He resolved the problem, asking, “Can I have more sugar?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, and went to fetch it for him.

“It’s OK,” he said, without hesitation, “I can get it,” standing up as he spoke, his robe flapping open wide as he strode across my kitchen. His lovely young cock was sticking straight out in front of him like a horizontal flag pole. It was so stiff and so nice looking, all young and fresh.

Oh god! Any reservations I had melted away at the sight of that fantastic looking piece of manhood. He turned to come back to the breakfast bar, showing the front of his body. It was so fit, so strong, so sweet; I had to have some of him.

He smiled at my expression, and said, “Well, where were we before Fred arrived in his lorry?”

He walked right up to me, not returning to his side of the table. He touched my knee, his hand sweeping my skirt up to well above my stockings. God! He was in a hurry.

He looked at my tiny thong, saying, “My girlfriend wears bigger knickers than that, you sexy woman!”

His fingers explored the little gusset, with much more experience than I thought he should have. His fingers found my clitty in seconds and then rolled it perfectly under the pads of his fingers. My hand sort-of went automatically to his cock. It felt as good as it looked. It was all soft and velvety over a rod of iron, his foreskin just back far enough to expose a drop of pre-cum on the tip of his knob.

I just slipped off my stool onto my knees, before this young Adonis. My mouth was just the right height to suck that drop of pre cum off his cock. Then I swallowed as much of him as I could. He groaned as his young cock sunk into my face. He muttered something about he had always fantasised about being sucked off. Well, his fantasy was about to come true. I just hoped I could make it as good as in his imagination.

Cradling his tight young balls in my hand, and, squeezing them just enough to make him cry out in ecstasy, my head bobbed up and down his shaft. His hands were on my head, making sure I finished what I had started. He needn’t have worried. This was about as good as it gets, his sweet young cock was so perfect it even tasted sweet. It was big enough for me to know I had my mouth full, but not so big that it hurt. It was perfect.

One of the problems of young men is their inability to control themselves. Before many seconds had elapsed he was groaning. He was going to cum. I know I could have stopped him but I didn’t want to spoil this first blow job for him. So I let him do his thing. He pulled at my hair as he erupted deep into my throat, shooting so much hot sticky come. It made me choke, but I didn’t let myself off lightly. I owed him the best I could do, and held his manhood in my mouth until he started to subside a little.

I said, “Perhaps you should drink your coffee before it goes cold?”

He grinned and walked round to the other side of the bar. After adding more sugar, he drank the cooling coffee down in two gulps. He looked at me, seeing me all flustered, realising what I had just done and how easy it had been for him to seduce me. Or had I seduced him?

He reached across the table and said, “Shall we go somewhere more comfortable?”

I didn’t answer him, but got up as he gently tugged my arm. I followed him into the lounge. He threw my dressing gown on the floor and turned to me, his body so perfect. I was still fully dressed and he grinned that cocky, knowing, grin of young men who know they are the winners. He started to unbutton my top, and then my skirt fell to the floor. There was only my bra, thong and stockings left. I felt old and tired compared with this perfect example of vibrant youth. The stretch marks on my tummy seemed like huge tell-tale markers of my age.

But he seemed fascinated by my whole body. He looked at me as if I was some young bird he had just pulled. His fingers traced the outline of my bra and then my thong. He asked me to turn around and I did it without thinking. This was very sexy and almost unbelievable. I turned until my back was to him. He stopped me and ran his fingers round the edges of my thong, following the material as it disappeared into the cleft of my bum.

I was so excited and just a little scared by his bold approach. I didn’t expect one so young to be so bold, so confident. I had imagined him having to be led into my bed, because that’s where I wanted him. My pretence at being a respectable married woman had somehow got blown away. I was acting like a wanton whore, almost begging for this sexy young man to take me.

I also thought he would be in such a hurry that he would strip me and fuck me before I could even start to think about what I was doing. But he was so laid back, so casual in his approach; he wasn’t in the least shy about where he put his hands. Was this the youth of today? None of the shy reticence of my youth, when we tentatively touched each other for weeks before we eventually got round to doing anything more. He made it quite obvious he was going to fuck me. Without saying a word, his attitude spoke volumes.

I felt his fingers playing with my bra strap then the sudden release of the tension and my titties sagged a little, as most mothers who have breastfed two children tend to. They still looked good, but not quite as perky as my teenage tits. He slipped the straps off my shoulders, letting my bra fall to the floor. He turned me to face him. I know I was blushing; I could feel the heat in my cheeks. But I also felt the heat in my pussy as he took first one, then the other nipple in his mouth. He sucked them to their full size, his teeth grazing the tender flesh as he teased and nibbled my aroused nipples.

Still devouring my tits, he eased his fingers into the waist band of my thong, slowly slipping it down my thighs. It stuck between my legs where my juice had made it so wet, so he slipped his fingers between the thong and my pussy again, gently easing it away from my body. I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, so bloody sexy.

He dropped to his knees, taking my thong off my feet as I lifted one foot and then the other, to allow him to strip me completely. This was nothing like I had imagined a young man would make love to me. I had this crazy idea I would have to lead, encourage him, help him to make the right moves; but he was less than half my age and about ten times as experienced.

His face was only inches away from my freshly shaved pussy. Would he lick me or just look at my bare and exposed pussy? He said something about ‘loving it so smooth’ and touched it with his fingertips, stroking gently, making me shiver in anticipation of what was to cum. Yes, that pun was intended.

His face moved ever closer to my cunt. He murmured, “You smell very nice, all sexy but so sweet.”

His tongue flicked, out just touching my outer lips. But it sent shock waves through my body, shaking me to the very core. Oh! How I wanted this sexy young man to fuck me, make me do all the things that lovers do. Perhaps he knew things I had yet to learn?

My feet involuntarily parted giving him more room to tongue fuck me, but it’s not a good position to get any penetration. Despite my hips pushing forward to give him the best possible opportunity to get his tongue inside me, he wasn’t interested in that. He was quite happy to lick and lap at my little bud, his tongue taking long slow strokes from just under my clitty right up to my navel. He even played with my belly button with the tip of his sexy tongue. I don’t really know how long he kept me in this state of suspended animation, but it seemed as if he had been playing with my body for hours.

I was on the point of cumming but still he took his time, not rushing at all, just as if he had all day to spare. Perhaps he had. I wouldn’t be going anywhere, not with this sexy young man paying so much attention to my body.

At last he stood up. I hadn’t realised how tall he was. He towered above me as I turned my face up to look at his. When he kissed me full on my lips, his tongue took the same advantage of my mouth as it had my pussy. He was lapping at my lips and pushing deep into my mouth. I could taste myself on his tongue. I had this funny thought; I tasted rather nice. Perhaps it was the mixture of his saliva and my juices that made it so heady a cocktail.

He picked me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing, and carried me to the sofa. Laying me down, he took one of my legs and rested on his back opening me wide to his sight. He looked for some time before he bent his head to my cunt. I was secreting so much that I could smell the sex myself. God! I can’t remember ever being this turned on.

His tongue found my clitty and worked it for a few moments, but long enough to bring me to the first of many orgasms that afternoon. As I came, he stuck his tongue deep into me, sending me into the most fantastic climax. I writhed and squirmed on his expert young tongue. He held me in that state of bliss for some time. I begged him to fuck me, let me feel his wonderful young cock enter me; but he ignored my pleas and continued to drive me from one climax to the next.

I couldn’t reach his cock, despite trying very hard. I think he didn’t want me to touch him yet, so I gave in to his superb lovemaking and let him do as he wanted to me. I just surrendered completely, became his sex slave, his plaything, his willing and wanton older woman. He had somehow turned me so that my feet were over his shoulders and my bum still on the sofa. But I was facing him now, in just the right position for him to take me. Still he made me wait. I begged and threatened him, but still he took his time just doing what he was so bloody good at.

At last he moved closer to me, his face reaching up to my tits. His mouth opened, taking one of my nipples deep into it. He sucked hard enough to make me cry out in passion. I love my nipples being sucked hard. How did he know just what turned me on? He changed to the other nipple and did the same to that, making it stand out even bigger and more inflamed and sensitive. I was so ready for his cock, but still he wasn’t in a hurry he seemed to be enjoying making me cum so much. Perhaps the actual sex would be an anticlimax.