Garage scene
As I walk closer to the side door I hear metal clank on metal, and swear word echo across the garage. I cross the threshold and take in the familiar sight. A wood stove burns merrily in the corner, a Godsmack song is blasting from a radio on top of the work bench, and tools line the walls in highly organized regiments. in the center of the room is a sleek beautiful Camaro the color of ravens wings . black with a blue tint when the light hits just right,, on slicks, and perfectly pristine.
The disembodied voice swears again as I hear a socket wrench cranking. I know he’s been in here all afternoon and has lost track of time again. Long legs encased in jeans stick out from under the car, and I admire them for a moment. I’m quiet as I slip off my shoes and shimmy out of my dress. Leaving my thigh high stockings and underthings on, I tiptoe across the space, sit on my stool, and wait, trying not to giggle. A litany if swear words continue and then the lean muscled body on the creeper rolls out, the wheels well oiled and smooth across the concrete. He stands up , walks to a tall chest , opens a drawer and immediately finds what he needs. I see him glance up at the clock on the wall and swear again. He takes a few steps in the direction of the door then freezes . Ohh He’s spied my boots and dress.
Abruptly, he turns to me, and when I smile impishly at him his serious expression melds to something else entirely. He takes in my attire, blue lacy bra, matching panties, and black thigh highs, as he slowly and silently stalks towards me. He moves like a panther instead of a man as he comes to a stop inches from my thighs . My low stool leaves me at a distinct advantage, my face the exact height of his zipper. I look up at him from beneath my lashes and he steals my breathe just as easily as the first time our eyes locked. His lips are in a firm line, serious business, but a dark eyebrow is raised as he stands there waiting. He knows I can’t be quiet for more than 2 seconds and the giggles are about to bubble up. My battle with a straight, sultry face is lost as I look up at him, beaming and say “ garage assistant reporting for duty “ and throw a sarcastic salute from my low perch and hand him an unsolicited 3/4 inch socket .
His Posture changes ever so slightly, back straighter; shoulders rigid, and his voice is all “ Sir “ as he says “ ahh. My assistant, that’s a shame, I was looking for my sub, do you know where she’s run off to ?”, as he removes his belt. I hop up off of my stool and take a run at the door, escape not my end goal, instead the capture. I take two steps and an arm snakes around my waist and pulls me tight to his chest. Muscular arms lock around my lower torso and my chest, molding me against an impressive erection.
We stand their for a moment, me still struggling , cursory struggles as I love being exactly where I am…. can’t just give in though. I have to put up a little resistance, it adds so much more energy to the moment. Squirming and biting the forearm closest to my mouth, trying to escape. I feel his chest rise and fall with his even breaths and it’s calming to my busy brain., I slowly relax and still, ready to submit, ready to obey. The hand wrapped around my upper chest moves to gently, yet firmly grasp a handful of my hair, and slowly turns my head to the side. warm breath fans my ear as he whispers “ hello subby”.
Time passes without my notice, and I come to, floating back to earth from subspace …. spread eagle against the hood, bright red ass in the air, my little asshole dripping come. I’m boneless, exhausted, happy, and definitely have to buff this hood again after I find the will to move my legs. A common occurrence, that.
Mar 24, 2020
?
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/m9x0ki/garage_scene_bdsm_a_requested_repost_from_my_old