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I had been a regular customer at the local coffeehouse for almost two years before the pretty girl behind the counter asked me if the red Mitsubishi 3000 GT was mine.

I had always been attracted to her, so nothing less than a clever response would do.

“Yes,” was all I managed.

“I bet it’s pretty fast, right?”

“Yes, pretty fast.” Had I suddenly become dead from the neck up? Then, just as quickly, inspiration struck. “I’ll let you drive it sometime if you like,” I said in my most casual voice.

“Really?” she asked with a smile. “When?”

“When do you get off work?”

“I’ll be done in 20 minutes if there’s no afternoon rush.”

There wasn’t, so 25 minutes later, we were driving across town to where there were fewer cops. I gave her a knowing look. She shot me one back, then took her hair out of its ponytail and let her tresses cascade down her back. My God, she wasn’t just pretty, she was gorgeous. My dick started to come alive.

I was a little concerned at first that she might tear up my gearbox, but she really knew her way around a stick. As she cornered the narrow streets with ease and accelerated out of the corners, I could not help but imagine how it would feel to have my cock in her capable little hand. I loved watching her shift gears. She took the car onto the freeway ramp, hit the button to roll down the windows, and opened the 3000 up. Her mane floated about her face in the wind, truly a sight to behold. My penis got harder. I looked to see if she noticed the tent in my lap. She caught me looking and gave me a wink.

“Hey, listen. Why don’t we pull in for a drink?” I suggested.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said. As the car came to a stop, she leaned over and let her tongue touch my lips.

I opened wide, allowing our tongues to mingle. We explored each other’s mouth until she reached down to my cock. She fondled it gently a few moments while looking into my eyes.

“This feels like a big one. I have to see it,” she said. She unzipped my fly and pulled down my boxers. Her eyes went wide. What she saw was an eight-incher with about four inches of girth. She smeared the pre-come around the head, then rolled my love stick between her hands. Leaning over, she took the tip of my dick into her mouth. Her technique was splendid. I let everything go. Come dripped from her chin. She wiped it off with my penis.

“Never mind the drink,” she said. “I need that monster in me. Let’s go to your place.”

I keep a beanbag chair in the bedroom — a remnant from childhood. She saw it and went wild. “I didn’t think these things existed anymore,” she said. I came up behind her, wrapped my hands around her waist, and pulled her shirt over her head. She had on a lacy black bra. I took that off too. She was about a 34B, and her nipples were truly magnificent. They stood out like mini missiles. I flicked them. She sighed, and her nipples got even harder.

We both stripped, and she turned around so I could see her petite ass. I sat in the beanbag and watched the show with my stiff dick propped against my belly. She pointed and said, “We need to do something about that.” She played with her pussy, placing her fingers in the wet spot and, bending over as she did so, sticking her scent in my face.

She settled into the bean-bag next to me, and we started making out. She crossed a leg over into my lap, then placed her pussy-wet finger in my mouth. I sucked hard, wanting more. My dick was harder than it had ever been. “That’s just the way I like it,” she said. She stroked it, kissed me one more time, and looked at me with what I thought were innocent eyes. Was I ever wrong. “Do me doggie-style,” she growled.

I turned her over.

She sank into the beanbag on all fours with her ass sticking out like an open invitation, but I didn’t go for the honeypot right away. Instead

I found her clit with the tip of my cock and diddled my penis against it without entering. I did that for a few minutes. The last time I pulled away, she begged, “Don’t stop.”

“I just want you really wet,” I whispered.

I placed the head of my cock just inside her opening and felt the heat emanating from her love box. I pushed in slowly to give her time to stretch; I didn’t want to hurt her. “Ohh. It feels like the first time,” she cooed.

I gradually worked my way in to the hilt — deeper than any woman had ever taken me. She felt wonderfully smooth and hot. I wrapped one arm around her waist and placed my hand on her belly, the other hand on the small of her back. Taking the time to get her wet really paid off. We went at it like two crazed animals.

“Oh, I’m coming!” she screeched.

I plunged my penis as far in as it would go. Her muscles spasmed around it and her juices ran out and dripped onto the beanbag chair. That was too much for me, and I came deep inside her. We spent the rest of the afternoon trying different positions until we were both sore and spent. I still see her almost every morning when I order my coffee. Her name is Babs, and I no longer have a hard time talking to her.

" />

Shifting Gears

  • 1

Storyline

I had been a regular customer at the local coffeehouse for almost two years before the pretty girl behind the counter asked me if the red Mitsubishi 3000 GT was mine.

I had always been attracted to her, so nothing less than a clever response would do.

“Yes,” was all I managed.

“I bet it’s pretty fast, right?”

“Yes, pretty fast.” Had I suddenly become dead from the neck up? Then, just as quickly, inspiration struck. “I’ll let you drive it sometime if you like,” I said in my most casual voice.

“Really?” she asked with a smile. “When?”

“When do you get off work?”

“I’ll be done in 20 minutes if there’s no afternoon rush.”

There wasn’t, so 25 minutes later, we were driving across town to where there were fewer cops. I gave her a knowing look. She shot me one back, then took her hair out of its ponytail and let her tresses cascade down her back. My God, she wasn’t just pretty, she was gorgeous. My dick started to come alive.

I was a little concerned at first that she might tear up my gearbox, but she really knew her way around a stick. As she cornered the narrow streets with ease and accelerated out of the corners, I could not help but imagine how it would feel to have my cock in her capable little hand. I loved watching her shift gears. She took the car onto the freeway ramp, hit the button to roll down the windows, and opened the 3000 up. Her mane floated about her face in the wind, truly a sight to behold. My penis got harder. I looked to see if she noticed the tent in my lap. She caught me looking and gave me a wink.

“Hey, listen. Why don’t we pull in for a drink?” I suggested.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said. As the car came to a stop, she leaned over and let her tongue touch my lips.

I opened wide, allowing our tongues to mingle. We explored each other’s mouth until she reached down to my cock. She fondled it gently a few moments while looking into my eyes.

“This feels like a big one. I have to see it,” she said. She unzipped my fly and pulled down my boxers. Her eyes went wide. What she saw was an eight-incher with about four inches of girth. She smeared the pre-come around the head, then rolled my love stick between her hands. Leaning over, she took the tip of my dick into her mouth. Her technique was splendid. I let everything go. Come dripped from her chin. She wiped it off with my penis.

“Never mind the drink,” she said. “I need that monster in me. Let’s go to your place.”

I keep a beanbag chair in the bedroom — a remnant from childhood. She saw it and went wild. “I didn’t think these things existed anymore,” she said. I came up behind her, wrapped my hands around her waist, and pulled her shirt over her head. She had on a lacy black bra. I took that off too. She was about a 34B, and her nipples were truly magnificent. They stood out like mini missiles. I flicked them. She sighed, and her nipples got even harder.

We both stripped, and she turned around so I could see her petite ass. I sat in the beanbag and watched the show with my stiff dick propped against my belly. She pointed and said, “We need to do something about that.” She played with her pussy, placing her fingers in the wet spot and, bending over as she did so, sticking her scent in my face.

She settled into the bean-bag next to me, and we started making out. She crossed a leg over into my lap, then placed her pussy-wet finger in my mouth. I sucked hard, wanting more. My dick was harder than it had ever been. “That’s just the way I like it,” she said. She stroked it, kissed me one more time, and looked at me with what I thought were innocent eyes. Was I ever wrong. “Do me doggie-style,” she growled.

I turned her over.

She sank into the beanbag on all fours with her ass sticking out like an open invitation, but I didn’t go for the honeypot right away. Instead

I found her clit with the tip of my cock and diddled my penis against it without entering. I did that for a few minutes. The last time I pulled away, she begged, “Don’t stop.”

“I just want you really wet,” I whispered.

I placed the head of my cock just inside her opening and felt the heat emanating from her love box. I pushed in slowly to give her time to stretch; I didn’t want to hurt her. “Ohh. It feels like the first time,” she cooed.

I gradually worked my way in to the hilt — deeper than any woman had ever taken me. She felt wonderfully smooth and hot. I wrapped one arm around her waist and placed my hand on her belly, the other hand on the small of her back. Taking the time to get her wet really paid off. We went at it like two crazed animals.

“Oh, I’m coming!” she screeched.

I plunged my penis as far in as it would go. Her muscles spasmed around it and her juices ran out and dripped onto the beanbag chair. That was too much for me, and I came deep inside her. We spent the rest of the afternoon trying different positions until we were both sore and spent. I still see her almost every morning when I order my coffee. Her name is Babs, and I no longer have a hard time talking to her.

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