A devil girl gets the best of a handsome mechanic when he comes to her rescue on a rainy Halloween evening. Their sensual antics last all night long as they take each other to unforeseen heights.

I was driving home from a Halloween party at some hotshot producer’s house when fate intervened. The night was dark and stormy — perfect for All Hallow’s Eve, but not so good for my old clunker. It had been new in 1988, which made it two years older than me. I’d driven the wreck to L.A. from Indiana three months ago, a girl with stars in her eyes and a dream of making it big. Now the windshield wipers were losing the battle with the downpour and the headlights weren’t doing much better. They didn’t pick out the rock in the middle of the roadway until too late, and I swerved, also too late. The tire blew, and I wrangled the car to a stop.

My cell phone was no use; I’d forgotten to charge the battery the night before. So what, I told myself. You can change the tire. I couldn’t help but laugh as I pictured myself, tire iron in hand, doing battle with a muddy wheel while squatting in six-inch heels. The shiny red knee-high boots were part of my Halloween costume, which I had on underneath my raincoat. I was Devil Girl, a femme fatale poured into a siren-red, sleeveless catsuit that clung to my body like a second skin. It was low-cut in front, revealing an ample portion of my perky C-cup breasts. Matching gloves reached above my elbows. There was even a detachable tail and horns, plus a belt with a little brass buckle that served no purpose other than to accentuate my slender waist. Cutouts at the sides revealed bare skin through crisscrossing straps all the way down to my hips. I felt as sexy as hell in the suit, and judging by the reactions of the partygoers that evening, I looked it, too.

I got out and opened the trunk, only to face the fact that I would not be changing the tire, after all. At some point in my car’s history, the jack had taken a walk. I stood there letting the rain plaster my long dark hair to my head. Then I noticed something wonderful: the big oval sign of a gas station, just around the bend. I locked the car and started walking.

When I got to the station, I found the gas pumps dark and a “closed” sign in the office window; however, there was light leaking out around the edges of the two garage doors. I heard the sound of clanging tools. I went over and rapped on one of the metal doors.

“We’re closed,” came a man’s voice.

“I’ve got a flat,” I persisted. “My car is just up the highway.”

I heard him curse under his breath. Then the door rolled up, revealing a tough-looking guy in jeans and a grease-stained t-shirt. He was in his early thirties, I guessed, and, boy, was he impressive: six feet tall with a barrel chest, muscular arms and a strong, stubble-covered jaw. His short hair was sandy-colored, and his eyes were gunmetal grey. He looked at me, I looked at him, and my throat went dry. He was easily the hottest man I’d seen since coming to L.A.

He’d been ready to voice his annoyance, but that changed when he saw the state I was in. “Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. Come in.”

I stepped inside. Fluorescent lights illuminated the garage unevenly. There was a workbench along the back wall, next to a worn and faded couch. Two portable space heaters glowed red from the shadows. One of the service bays was empty; the other contained a classic sports car that the mechanic had obviously been working on.

“It’s a ’67 Corvette Stingray,” the mechanic said proudly, following my gaze. After a moment, he looked at me again. It was obvious he liked what he saw, despite my bedraggled appearance. I eyed him right back. He was rough around the edges, a man not to be trifled with. I have a weakness for guys like him. He had an edgy appeal that was turning me on big-time. I’d been pretty horny since leaving the party, and now I was alone with a guy who was straight out of my fantasies.

“Keys,” the mechanic said.

I handed them over. “It’s a Chevy Nova,” I said, “a little ways up the road.” My arousal made my voice quaver. “I was going to change the tire myself, but there’s no jack in the car.”

“All right, wait here. I’ll bring your car in.”

I flashed my most winning smile. “Thanks for helping me out.”

He nodded. I could see I was getting to him. Pointing to his workbench, he said, “There’s coffee over there. Should be a clean towel, too, if you want to dry off.”

Then he went out. A moment later, I heard the tow truck start up and rumble off down the road. After that, there was only the sound of the rain drumming loudly on the roof.

In the time it took me to towel-dry my hair and drink half a cup of coffee, he was back. He put my beater in the empty space next to the sports car, parked the tow truck outside, and closed us in against the raw night.

“Won’t take long to fix this,” he said, getting right to work on my car.

I sat on the couch and watched him, feeling my desire grow by the second. “My name’s Lacie,” I said. “Guess I’m keeping you from your Corvette, huh?”

He shrugged and looked over at me — a good, long look this time. “I’m Howard,” he said at last.

“I was at a Halloween party,” I told him. “Want to see my costume?”

Howard raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

I stood and shirked off my raincoat. Now he really did stare. “I’m Devil Girl,” I said. My arousal, combined with Howard’s obvious interest, emboldened me. I took a step toward him. “Like it?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking me over carefully. “I do.”

I took another step. “I’ve always loved Halloween.”

“Even this one?” he asked, getting to his feet. “Flat tire and all?”

“Especially this one.” Another step. I was in his personal space now. “I found you, didn’t I?”

Our eyes met. I had to go for it. With a devilish grin, I squatted on my haunches and reached for Howard’s jeans. My fingers were eager but steady as I undid the button and yanked the zipper down. Howard didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything. He just let the wrench he was holding drop to the floor. I tugged his jeans down and discovered that he’d gone commando. His cock, straight as an arrow and well-proportioned, was instantly in my hand. I stroked his shaft all over with a feather-light touch, which made it grow even bigger. Howard shuddered. He rested his hands on my shoulders and gave a low moan when I lowered my mouth over his tool. I opted for an unhurried pace as I slid my lips downward, savoring every nuance of Howard’s beautiful prick. It throbbed against my tongue like a finely tuned racing engine. When the tip touched the back of my throat, I held still for a moment, enjoying the look in Howard’s eyes as he stared down at me. Then I backed off until only the head remained in my mouth. Howard was almost shivering now. I licked and sucked his sac for a minute, then took his cock in my mouth again while I rolled his balls in my hand.

Eventually, I had to abandon my deliberate pace. Howard’s lust, and my own, were too great. Breathing faster, he started rocking on his feet and driving his cock back and forth between my lips. I made a sound like the coo of a dove and sucked him with all the passion I possessed. I even reached around with one hand and stroked his ass, which clenched and unclenched as he fucked my face. Barely a minute later, he coiled my hair in his hands, threw his head back and groaned. I could tell he was on the verge of climaxing, but I pulled away. I had other plans for his prick.

“You are amazing,” Howard said softly, bending down to kiss me.

“I love your cock,” I replied, a little breathless. “I’ve got to have it inside me.” I pulled off my boots, then stood with my back to Howard. “Unzip me, please?”

He found the hidden zipper at the back of my neck and pulled it down. Carefully, I extricated myself from the catsuit and turned away from Howard to drape the costume over the back of the couch. I could feel Howard’s eyes roving over my back, my legs, my ass. Moving slowly, I stepped over to the side of the couch, planted my feet well apart on the floor, and folded myself over the armrest.

“Fuck me from behind,” I demanded, looking sideways at Howard.

Watching him get naked was a real pleasure. His broad, muscular chest and six-pack abs made my mouth water. His cock was still hard, and he was ready to put it to good use. He was light on his feet for a big man, getting into position behind me in the blink of an eye. Taking hold of my hip with one hand, he used the other to press his dick into the groove of my puffy cunt lips. I was dripping-wet, and Howard pushed forward, sinking his cock into my syrupy hole.

“Oh! Yeah, baby, that’s it. That’s good,” I said. Grunting, I shoved back at him. In a moment, I was filled up with his cock. The fit was exquisite. He slid out, grabbed hold of my hips and rammed home again, making me cry out with delight. Soon his pelvis was smacking my ass and his steely cock was pumping in and out of my cunt like a piston.

The sound of the rain on the roof got louder, as if mirroring the intensity of the sensations roiling through me. It must have been a real downpour out there, and it came with a bolt of lightning — so bright that we could see the flash around the edges of the garage doors. The overhead lights flickered at the same time. I thought we were going to be plunged into darkness, which certainly would have added another dimension to our hookup, but the power stayed on.

Howard had plenty of power, too. He was setting off ripples of pleasure in my pussy that were so intense, I couldn’t keep my eyes from squeezing shut. I lowered my face and chest all the way to the seat of the couch, which left my rear end high in the air. Howard liked that. Overcome with passion, he adjusted his grip at the sides of my ass and really drilled me. I saw stars. His rod entered me now at a slightly different angle, and it felt incredible. Even his balls were getting in on the action; they smacked against my clit in a rapid staccato that made my pleasure button spark hotly. I couldn’t take much more, and I didn’t think Howard could, either. His machine-like thrusts were making me shudder and pant like a hellcat. At last, I felt the explosion of cream from his cock, deep in my cunt — and that turned my moans into real words.

“Oh, my God,” I said, “You’re going to make me — “ My breathless announcement was too late; I was coming already, right along with Howard. My ecstatic exclamations reverberated off the walls and roof of the garage, loud enough to drown out the rain for a moment. Howard barely made a sound, but his body clenched tightly against me, and he jacked into my quivering hole until his balls were empty.

As our breathing slowed, Howard bent over me for a deep, slow kiss. Then the long day caught up with me. I crawled the rest of the way onto the couch and curled up for a snooze. Howard produced a heavy blanket from somewhere and covered me with it, and I dozed off.

I don’t know how long I slept — no more than an hour or two, as it was still dark outside when I awoke. Howard was dressed and washing his hands at a sink in the corner. He noticed I was awake and smiled. He had an amazing smile.

“Your car is ready,” he said, drying his hands.

“Thank you.” I sat up, purposely letting the blanket drop to my waist.

“I changed your oil, too.” He looked at my breasts. I’m not sure he’d gotten a good, full look at them before that moment. The fire was in his eyes again.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked coyly.

“I’ll sleep later,” he said, “when I don’t have a beautiful naked Devil Girl in my garage.”

Tossing the blanket aside, I stood and faced him. “I’ll be gone soon,” I said. My voice dripped with lust. “Do me again. Make it last.”

Howard walked over, lifted me bodily and sat me down on the edge of his workbench. I leaned back on my hands and opened my legs. Howard looked admiringly at my pussy, which was completely hairless and smooth. I had taken a razor to my pubic mound on my first night in Tinseltown, and I’d kept it bald ever since. Howard rested his hands on my knees for a moment; then, slowly, he slid his palms inward along my inner thighs, toward the focal point of his desire. I was practically holding my breath with anticipation. Howard’s fingers reached ground zero, and he petted me lightly, using only his fingertips. He didn’t peel me open or push a finger inside; he merely stroked and caressed the silky skin of my outer lips as if he’d never felt anything finer. A shiver passed through me and I moaned softly, yearning to feel his fingers enter me. Howard offered a sly grin as if to say, Patience. I’ll get there. He bent over me and lowered his mouth to my breasts, first one and then the other, lightly sucking and nibbling my sensitive nipples. I ran my hand through his thick hair and arched my back a little, which pushed my tits against his face.

At that point he did slip a finger into me, pushing in to the knuckle. I gasped at the sudden penetration, and gasped again when he added a second finger. “You’re like molten lava down there,” Howard said as he plied my slippery folds for another half-minute. “Time for a taste now.” With that, he lifted his face from my breasts and repositioned himself to tongue my creamy cleft.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned when I felt Howard’s breath on my sex. A moment later, his mouth sealed against me; his tongue darted between my glistening folds and wriggled around inside. My torso arched again, involuntarily this time. I was a slave to the primal impulses that Howard was unearthing inside me.

“Sweet as honey,” he said, coming up for air. Then he got back to it, pressing his face into my dewy, plump labia. His tongue darted out, snake-like, to flick across my clit, intensifying my reactions. My thighs clenched, and I pushed my pussy against his face in a desperate attempt to fuck his mouth. The contrasting roughness of his unshaven jaw only served to heighten my pleasure. When his lips closed around my clit, I muttered a string of unintelligible curses. My voice, strained with emotion, was barely recognizable. Howard suckled ardently at my clit for a moment, and then he started thrashing it with his tongue again. My squeals rose to a crescendo, my hips churned, and I found myself climaxing violently. Howard cupped my ass in his hands and gulped my pussy juices like he’d found a fountain in the desert.

When I regained my senses, Howard was removing his clothes, which was good, as I still needed him to fuck me. He took my place on the workbench and hoisted me, giggling, into his lap. His brute strength continued to amaze me.

“Such a nice pole for me to ride,” I said, stroking his penis. Aiming it carefully, I felt the meaty crown cleave my labia. Then I eased myself down onto the rigid shaft. “Jesus,” I said softly. “Your cock feels even bigger than before.”

Howard chuckled. He stroked my boobs and the soft curving flesh of my hips while I settled myself into his lap. I could feel his balls under me, flattening against my asscheeks. With a long, contented sigh, I absorbed the sensation of fullness that emanated from my cunt. My companion may have been happy to go slow, but he wasn’t content to sit still for long. Hooking his hands beneath my butt and flexing his muscular thighs, he began powering his prick in and out of my pliant hole. I pressed my tits against his chest and held on to his beefy shoulders while he moved beneath me. The head of his dick probed my cunt’s innermost regions, and the ridge of his shaft nudged my clit with every incursion.

Before long I couldn’t help but get into the action. Driven by lust, I rode Howard’s tool in time with his own thrusts, which were growing more forceful by the minute. Again and again my clit smacked against the base of his cock and sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. Meanwhile Howard was massaging my breasts and rubbing my nipples with a heavenly touch. I flung my head back in ecstasy, and Howard rained kisses on the curve of my throat. He trailed more kisses downward until his lips were on my breasts. His hands slid to my hips, and then around back, cupping my ass while I bounced atop his staff. I could feel his fingers back there, tantalizingly close to my tiniest hole. It took only a slight movement of my hips to get Howard’s finger smack-dab on my bull’s eye back there. Once I did it, new sensations intertwined with the current ones and overwhelmed me.

“Fuck me!” I cried, absolutely crazy with passion. I crested mightily, pitching and rocking in Howard’s lap as if I were out of my mind — which, for a moment, I was. Seconds later, triggered by my frenzy, Howard peaked, too. He grabbed hold of the edge of the workbench and buried his face in my neck as the cream erupted from his cock. I clutched him tight, still moaning with my release, until his spasms subsided.

A while later, feeling sated, I got back into my Devil Girl bodysuit and pulled on my raincoat. Howard dressed and rolled the garage door up, admitting the pre-dawn light.

“What do I owe you for the work on my car?” I asked him.

He waved that off. “No charge,” he said, smiling.

I gave him a kiss and a hug and drove off, knowing we’d both just had the best Halloween of our lives.