Pumping Gas

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


It’s almost two o’clock in the morning and you’re heading home when you realize you’re low on gas. Fortunately, there’s a gas station only a couple of miles down the road, easy to make it to.

You roll up and park next to the gas pump, shutting off the car and getting out. Just as you start to reach for the nozzle, you see a small import barely moving on the road heading for the gas station. You squint through the lights of the gas station and you can see someone pushing the car from behind, the headlights barely on.

You take a couple steps forward and you can see the person pushing the car. It’s a woman and she’s having problems pushing. You trot over to the car quickly and move behind the car, saying hello to the woman. She smiles, sweat on her forehead reflected from the lights of the station up ahead.

“Want some help?” you ask, already starting to push the car, almost doubling it’s speed.

“Thanks,” she replies, letting you do most of the work.

You push the car and she steers into the lot, aiming the car to the pump on the opposite side of the station from your car, since that’s the easiest to reach, given the side of the car the gas tank is on.

The car comes to a halt slowly, since the power brakes aren’t working. She gets back out and walks over to you as you lean against the back of the car, silently cursing people who make cars so heavy.

“Thanks again,” she says, putting out her hand. “I’m Tammy.” She smiled, her light hazel eyes sparkling in the lights. Her hair was light brown or maybe it was just he light. Her clothing is suggestive of a workout, tight spandex pants, a loose top and running shoes.

“Hi,” you reply taking kızılay escort her hand. “I’m Craig. No problem with the car. I’ve been there a couple of times myself. It’s always good to have some help, especially pushing something heavy like this.” You pat the car on the trunk.

“Yeah. I’d been pushing this heap for about twenty minutes.” She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Well, no wonder you’re dressed for a workout,” you say, indicating her clothing.

She laughs. “No, I had been working out at the gym, you know just little stuff. I got out to my car and made it about a mile before it conked out. I think the gas gauge is broken.”

“Well, that sucks. Maybe you should look into getting a new car. Well, newer, anyway.”

She takes on a look of mock indignation. “What? And get rid of my Ethel? No way, mister!” She leans over and hugs the car and starts laughing.

“Ethel? What kind of name is Ethel for a car?”

“Oh, yeah? What do you call your car?”

“I don’t call it anything,” you reply.

“Well, you’re just boring then.” She laughs when you start to make a comeback and fail miserably.

You think of a few things to say, but leave them unsaid. “I’ll let you pump your gas. I need to do the same.”

She gives you an odd look, but nods and you walk away, back to your car, scolding yourself mentally for not trying to at least get her phone number.

You walk back over to your black car, admiring its lines and sigh, swiping your card through the reader and putting the nozzle in your tank. You lean against the car and look across the lot toward Tammy. What you see makes you hard in an instant.

She’s leaning etlik escort in the passenger side window, her tank on that side, showing you her nicely rounded ass. The only thing you want to do is go over there and pull her pants down and give her your cock from behind. You shake your head and wait for your gas to get done.

The lever clicks off and you fill it for a few more cents to make it even and look across the lot again. Tammy is still leaning into her car through the window. ‘What the hell,’ you say to yourself. It’s two thirty in the morning. What do you have to lose?

You walk across the lot and you can hear that Tammy is playing music. She is wiggling her ass, almost at you, as she bops to the music. With the feeling of a drunken man, ten feet tall and bulletproof, you walk right up to her and put your hand on her ass, moving it around.

Tammy turns and looks at you over her shoulder. “Took you long enough,” she says, smirking back at you.

You put both hands on her ass and start massaging it, Tammy pushing back into your hands. You can tell she’s not wearing any panties, so you pull her pants down and rub your fingers against her slit, feeling her getting wetter. She moans softly, barely audible above the music.

With audacity that is shocking even to yourself, you pull out your cock and stroke it where she can see. She licks her lips and shakes her ass against your hand. You move behind her and slowly push into her, watching her eyes close as you move into her. Slowly, you pull back out and just as slowly, you push back in.

She opens her eyes and shakes her head no. “Fuck me hard and fuck me fast. I want it rough.”

You demetevler escort nod and grab her hips and start slamming into her hard and fast, just like she wants it. She leans her head down as she accepts your cock, her whole body rocking as you pump into her. She’s making noises with each thrust, slowly getting louder.

Tammy starts playing with her nipples, squeezing her breasts through her shirt, her ponytail bouncing as she bumps back against you. She’s pushing back against you with every thrust, her noises getting louder.

You can feel your orgasm approaching, just like hers. She is grunting now, her face turning crimson. You’re on the verge just as she cries out, feeling her muscles working against you, joining her in bliss are you orgasm deep into her, slamming your hips against her firm ass.

You withdraw from her when you are done, taking a step back, catching your breath. Tammy turns around and pulls up her pants and then steps up to you and kisses you.

“Give me your cell phone,” she says and you hand it to her. She punches a couple of numbers and laughs. “It looks like I’m contact number sixty-nine. That will work.” She puts her number into your phone and hands it back. “Call me.”

She gets into her car and drives off, waving to you. You look down at your phone and, just as she said, she’s contact number sixty-nine. You hit ‘Dial’ and she answers quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to call that fast,” she says, a smile in her voice.

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying to think of something to say. You see a fluttering piece of paper on the ground where she was parked. “You left your receipt here and I thought I should bring it to you. You know, identity theft and all.”

She laughs. “You better get to driving, cowboy. I have a one-minute head start. You’re going to have to catch me.”

You jump in the car and she hangs up, you gunning the engine and quickly following.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

You may also like...

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir