A-OK Road Service

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Harriet and I first collided when her old car hadda dead battery and she phoned A-OK Road Service for help. Road Service called me.

She stopped at the COME & GO food store for gas and coffee and the car did nothing when she turned the key to start it. Sure as shit the battery was dead. I jump started it for her to move the car outta the way. “Pull over there (I pointed to the parking spaces by the trash dumpster) so I can test your electrical system.”

“No time! I gotta get home; my husband will take care of it,” she said as she drove off.

It was early Sunday morning, so I went for breakfast at The Nite Owl Diner down the road near the town limit. I saw her car in the parking lot as I pulled in. I saw her sitting at a booth when I went inside and sat on a stool at the counter. I ordered the breakfast special and forgot about Harriet. I didn’t see her leave.

My breakfast came soon enough: Two eggs (sunny side up) grits, bacon, and toast. The waitress, an older woman named Holly, was a married gal I took out occasionally; her old man didn’t care but she went to church, her daughter lived locally, and all knew her business and imagined worse.

About the time I finished my coffee A-OK Road Service phoned me. Harriet’s battery was dead again. I looked and saw her standing outside the car looking at it. I paid my bill, winked at Holly, and walked outside. She saw me and frowned.

“I told them to send someone else!”

“Why?” I wondered what in hell I did to piss her off.

“Duh! The battery is dead again!” She said.

“I didn’t charge the battery, I started the car,” I reminded her. “It takes a while for a dead battery to re-charge.”

“What now!” She asked.

“I can start the car, and you be on your way, or I can see what’s wrong and maybe fix it.” I suggested.

“Just start it,: she said.

I got it started, she left, and I went home. Two hours later my phone chirps. It’s the Road Service operator. Dear battery at the Econo-quality Inn. I knew who it was, I didn’t care. I get paid regardless. It was Harriet.

“Fix the car,” she said. I wondered why she wasn’t at home but I didn’t ask. I checked out the alternator, no good, and I noticed the belt that turned the alternator was shit, almost broke. She stood by the car and watched me work.

“You need an alternator and a new belt,” I said.

“How much?” She asked.

“Five hundred with tax and trade,” I told her.

“Okay,” she said. “Do we need to tow the car to the garage?”

“No, I can get the parts from my shop and do the work right here.”

I left and returned around an hour later. I replaced the belt and alternator in another hour, and kept the old stuff as trade. I charged her battery while I did the repair work. She used a bank card to pay me. No good. She tried it several times. Nope. She tried calling her husband and couldn’t reach him. Then she explained her situation.

She met her old man online via one of the popular romance sites. They got to know each other online and over the casino siteleri phone, got together for a romantic vacation, and it went so well they got married near the resort. She was on her way to her new home but the old man got the date wrong and probably was out on the Gulf fishing today. But she owed me five hundred bucks for the car. She rummaged her bag but had no money.

“Maybe we can make a deal,” she said.

“Talk to me,” I said.

“Come inside,” she said.

We went inside.

“Can I pay you later?”

“Sure, but I need a deposit or collateral,” I said.

“I got no money or jewels,” she said. “Can you think of anything else you’d accept?”

She was attractive for her age.

“You, for two hundred of the bill,” I suggested.

“Okay,” she considered my offer and accepted. Two hundred was fair money for pussy. I sensed she knew it.

My name is Bart, and I was twenty-nine of thirty them. Six feet tall and a hundred, eighty-five pounds. Blue eyes, brown hair with a flat-top cut.

Harriet was thirty-nine or forty, bottle-blonde, five-six, and one-thirty, 34-26-37. Bobbed hair cut.

“I just took a shower,” she said. “You wanna undress me?” She asked. I undressed her, then got naked and joined her on the bed.

I’m not what you’d call a man of the world but I knew Harriet wasn’t the girl next door the second she stuffed my cock in her mouth. Holly didn’t the first few times we fucked. Hookers suck cock first time out. I like the taste of pussy so I changed our situation.

“Put your bottom up here,” I said.

She did, and went back to the blow job. She tasted clean. I fucked her hole with a finger as I played with her clit with my tongue. She didn’t scream or moan or act excited, she simply remained at work on my cock with her mouth, and I did the same with her pussy. After several minutes she whispered, “Put it in me.” I did. She seemed pretty moist and I slid in her with no trouble. Her pussy felt nice, and I filled it after ten minutes or so.

She went in the bathroom, sat on the throne, unreeled a fitful of toilet paper, removed my load from her tunnel of luv, and returned to sit beside me.

“That was fun,” she smiled. The woman was a pro or had been. She didn’t fuck like porn stars. Nor was it like the histrionic girls who try and impersonate porn stars. Harriet was the sort who rolled up her sleeves, spit on her hands, and went to work with pride from a job well done. “Gimme a receipt, honey,” she smiled again. I did and gave it to her. “And gimme your business card so I can send you your money, unless you wanna get together again?” She examined my face for a sign.

“Your hubby won’t mind?” I asked.

“He won’t know, I don’t kiss and tell. You want my cell number?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Maybe twice for the rest?” She asked.

“Maybe,” I replied.

“You got a wife or girl friend?” She wondered.

“No one special, why, you interested?”

“Maybe, I’m fond of fit, younger guys.”

“You’re not that old?”

“No, but my husband is. I plan to be a good canlı casino wife but I need more than he can do. Maybe you can tune my motor and keep it purring. Think about it and call me if you’re interested.”

I dressed and left.

A couple or three days later my dad called me and invited me to drive over and meet his new wife.

“It’s a surprise,” He confessed. “We met and things just kinda happened. I didn’t wanna say anything until she got here. Shit happens you know. The whole thing is kinda crazy.”

She called and invited me over for Sunday dinner. Her name was Harriet.

Harriet was a competent cook but didn’t stray off the culinary reservation. Dinner was ham, potato-something, broccoli, brown-n-serve rolls, salad, and a better sort of apple pie with vanilla ice cream. She looked wholesome and nice, a little like Carol Brady. She rubbed my leg with her foot at the dinner table. Later she invited herself to stop by to see my car repair shop.

She dropped by two days later. I was lying beneath a car on a creeper. I use a long mirror I attached to plywood and put on wheels so I could push it around under a car to look for shit without me moving too far. Some of the mirror was under the car, and some wan’t when she came to see me. She had a skirt on and stood over the mirror, I saw no panties on her. Theh she squatted close to the mirror and gave me a nice display of her wares.

I came out from under the car and stood.

She looked at me and said, “Small world.”

“My old man has good taste,” I said.

“I got your money if you want it,” she offered. I shook my head. “Got time to talk?”

We went in my office.

“I grabbed your dad because he and I need each other. He’s lonely and wanted a nice looking woman to show off. I fuck him any time he wants me. I needed financial stability. I got no money to speak of. Ed’s money does the job nicely. I’m not a gold digger, I’m a whore who’s getting older and needs to get serious about the future. I don’t plan to fuck Ed, but I do plan to fuck you if you’re up for it. Or I’ll find a secret lover if you’re not. I like cock, and I wanna get pregnant before time runs out. Ed’s not Old Faithful anymore, but you are. You interested in the job?”

I was. “Sure,” I said.

“I don’t know where you live,” she said.

“Here,” I pointed to my apartment above us.

“Show me,’ she said.

I took her upstairs. She liked the bathroom and closets. The double-bed was ‘okay’ but she didn’t wanna live there. The kitchen was ‘okay,’ too, and the living room was, face it, a den. It was a place to get laid and sleep it off.

Harriet stepped close to me. “I need to shower,” I said, held up my greasy nasty hands, and smiled. “Pop doesn’t know many grease monkeys and can prolly guess where the dirty hand prints on your ass came from. Kiss me and come back later after he falls asleep in his Lazy Boy.” I gave her a key to the door.

“Will you be here later?” She asked.

“Sure.” I replied. “I may go to the diner or McDonalds. Wait for me.” We touched our lips together and she kaçak casino left.

I ate supper at the diner and flirted with a new waitress. Holly worked the breakfast trade. I stopped by the bank to re-fill my wallet and went home. Harriet was in my bath tub. “I smell like Ed,” she said. She came outta the bathroom wearing my robe but it wasn’t tied. She embraced me and whispered, “Make me smell like you.”

“Lemme lock the shop up,” I said.

It didn’t bother me to sleep with my step-mother. Ed got all the pussy he wanted or could handle, and she wasn’t out on the street looking for it. Plus I didn’t want a wife. Ed probably didn’t care if his new bride fucked me, anymore than he cared if I drove his new car.

A few years ago I was into amateur boxing but nothing to write home about. The average boxer is as good as he’ll ever be at twenty-seven years old, I’m thirty, and I was never great, just okay. So what I do now is stay fit with three hundred situps a day (the pros do 2500), run three miles, and do a variety of exercises with a ten pound medicine ball. I looked pretty good then but wasn’t built like a bull. I got up at four o’clock to do my routine before work. Sometimes I did my routine at night. But not on this night. Harriet had breeding on her mind.

When a female wants to make babies she don’t wanna be doing all that other shit. She wants to start and finish with the fucking part. Do your licking and spanking when she ain’t ovulating. Eggs don’t last long, so the wise thing to do is keep the pool filled with sperm for the egg when it comes along.

Harriet was lying on the bed, a candle lit, buzzing her clit with a vibrator when I came back. “Started without me?” I laughed.

“I wanted to be ready for you, cause I know I can’t stay long, and I cum really hard if I’m pre-heated,” she cooed. Harriet put the vibrator away. I undressed, got on the bed with her, and started to go down on her when she stopped me, “No, I want you to fuck me.” Then she guided my dick into her wet hole.

“You feel so good,” I said.

“Fuck me, baby,” she closed her eyes. “Good! Yes, that’s it. I want your hot load. Kiss me.”

I pressed my lips against her mouth.

“You can cum in my mouth after you fill my pussy, OK?”

I grunted.

“Mmm, yes; so good! You fuck me like you wanna put a baby in me. You do, don’t you?”

I grunted again.

“I thought so. I want you to. And when my belly swells you can feel it.

I increased my thrusting.

“Can I have your baby, sugar?”

I grunted and nodded.

“I bet you fuck some of those girls you meet at work, don’t you?”

“Uh huh,” I said.

“Do you fuck other wives?” Harriet asked.

“Uh huh,” I grunted.

Then, “I like pussy, too. Can I fuck one of your girl friends with you?” She asked. She moaned. “Cum in me, baby! My pussy is so hot for your cum. I feel you swelling in me, let it go.”

I did, and after a brief rest Harriet gently pushed me onto my back to suck my gooey cock into her mouth, and maybe get me off again. She worked me like the pro she had been and it happened. Then she lay beside me, to rest in my arms, and savor the warmth of my semen and skin.

Harriet got her prize. Ed’s name is on the birth certificate, but who knows without an expensive test.

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