That Girl Is Crazy - Part 2

Aria craves that kind of dodgy fix—mileage wound back like it never clocked all those dirty highway miles—so when her mechanic collars her like she’s already behind on the bill, she hikes up her skirt and parks herself right on the lift. From that first deep stroke she starts to clench and gush, the long wet spurts slapping against his thigh as he keeps pounding her like a piston that won’t quit. Each slap just finds the angle that wrecks her more, hammering her silly on the hood of some beat-up sedan. She stops counting orgasms when she realizes her own exhaust is making the garage echo. Mid-fuck he jerks free, fists a hand in her hair, and she’s already open-mouthed, drooling to suck that cum like it’s payday in pocket-lint. One thick spurt, then a second, swims straight down her gullet, warm and gluey, and she swallows every sticky ribbon without blinking, licking the tip clean like the odometer already clicked quieter.