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Tell Me A Story, Desdmona
illustration by garv

The Studebaker

By Desdmona

This story contains sexually explicit scenes.

The classic beauty of the car was surpassed only by the vision before him. Lexie’s body pressed face down over the hood of the car. The chrome bumper V-ed up between her legs, knees propped on either side.

She lay out evenly, arms above her head. More lovely than any hood ornament man could make.

“Woman, you are beautiful.”

Sam angled up behind her, his initial thought of ripping her panties now gone. Slowly, he slipped the cotton underwear down over her cheeks, exposing white, feminine flesh. His grease-stained hands reached to cover her buttocks. His oily fingers left dark smudges along her skin. He massaged, rubbed and kneaded. He lifted and separated, giving him a little glimpse of what hid beneath her chestnut pubic hair.

Her arms fell in the natural grooves on the hood of the car, molding to a perfect fit. The heat of the running engine suffused her body. The vibrations both comforted and exhilarated her. Tiny little pulsations oscillated through her being and gathered in her core.

“Oh god, Sam,” she moaned with the sandwiched sensations.

His breath quickened at the sight of her moist, pink pulp. He wanted to bury himself to the hilt, but something about the way she lay there, almost in supplication, made him feel reverent. It flashed through his mind that her invocation might be more to the car than to him. But it didn’t matter. She was there, open and wanting. He took what she offered.

He opened his jeans and his penis popped out. He grabbed it with his hand and began to trace along the crack of her ass. Up and down, sliding along the crevice.

She wiggled, and she was shocked to feel that when she pressed down onto the car, the bullet nose rested perfectly against her clitoris. The feeling was indescribable. She shuddered. Vibrating heat mixed with clitoral stimulation – all that remained was to be filled.

He complied, as if reading her mind, and slid gradually into her.

She was hot and velvety and wet. He held himself there for brief seconds as she moaned out broken words.

“Oh my ... dear god, sweet ... Jesus.”

He felt like praying himself. The reverberation of the humming engine echoed through her body and surrounded his cock. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful. Instead of slipping out and plunging again, he fell forward and stretched his hands up over hers.

Lexie turned to see the length of his arm pressed against hers. She smelled him; the scent of fuel and oil always managing to raise her passions, this time to a height even she couldn’t imagine. Her body was on fire with need. She bucked against his buried penis and then unabashedly rubbed against the car. His slight hold on control was lost with her uninhibited grinding. His hips began to undulate, causing her labia to open and spread her tender flesh across the nose of the car. Fiery little bumps teased her as his thrusts began.

She was going to explode; she could feel it welling up inside her. Her body tensed and begged for it. Sam’s thrusts were accompanied by a guttural howl, as he slammed her into the car. Seconds passed as she was suspended in nothingness. Then she erupted, convulsing in wave after wave of body fluttering. Her vagina latched on to his shaft, pulling it deep inside her. But the ecstatic sensations did not end. This had never happened to Lexie before. Her orgasms normally started, ended, and she waited twenty minutes for the next one. But her body was signaling that it was ready again. She was smoldering and the fire spread throughout her womb.

Sam buried his penis again and again. His hands clasped over hers, tightening, squeezing and bruising. He used them as a grip to gain more power. He shoved, he grunted, her bare skin slapped against the steel of the car. Starting out slow, like an automobile moving uphill, and then picking up speed, faster and faster. Driving towards orgasm at full throttle. Both she and he were no longer aware of the other, except as a way of accelerating towards climax.

Suddenly, as they smacked into the wall of completion, sparks in a kaleidoscope of colors flew. A shattering of feeling with shards of sensation exploded through limbs and digits.

His exhaustive breathing replaced the earlier rhythm. Her body trembled in the aftermath as the Studebaker continued to purr beneath them.

He pulled away from her and stared at her still form. She was completely mussed. Greasy fingerprints dotted her arms like leopard spots. Her hair, matted and sweaty, clung to her face, and her white dress was still hiked up over her rounded cheeks. He was mesmerized and apparently so was his dick. How could his genitals be ready again so soon? And yet, there it was, his penis bobbing in the air, with a mind of its own, stretching towards her exposed heat. The hooded flesh, quivered, appeared to wink and flirt with his rambunctious cock.

But, instead of returning to her, he turned away, and the spell was broken. He tucked his waning staff safely back into his pants. As he zipped, moisture seeped out, leaving telltale stains on the crotch of his overalls. When he turned back, she was gone.

“Damn!” How did this happen? She was the bossís daughter! He knew the rules. He knew the stakes. It didn’t matter that she was a flirt. He’d faced a hundred flirts before. Some you would fuck, some you wouldn’t. She was definitely one you shouldn’t. Yet he had, and she’d loved it. And as the elixir of sex and motor oil permeated his nostrils, he knew he’d do it again. He looked at the Studebaker, that magnificent piece of machinery. It was hot, it was priceless, it was a collector’s item, and yet he knew that it couldn’t compare to the woman that had just spread herself over it’s hood.

Lexie gingerly walked to the refrigerator, and poured herself a tall glass of lemonade. What had she just done? She nearly hated that man, didn’t she? Hadn’t she from the very first time they had met, nearly six months ago?

Lexie stood behind the door of the garage and listened to her father talking to Mr. Taylor. He was telling him the benefits he would offer to teach his daughter everything he knew about cars. Mr. Taylor had come highly recommended. She could barely make out Mr. Taylor’s responses. God, was she going to have to call him Mr. Taylor all the time? She didn’t know his first name but she imagined something like Buck, or Mac or even Joe. Didn’t all mechanics have one-syllable names like that embroidered above their shirt pockets? She rolled the names around on her tongue and decidedly hoped it wasn’t Mac, She’d be thinking of Mac Davis or a Big Mac or something like that. She promised her dad that she would be a good student. After all she had been waiting for years for this opportunity and he had finally realized she was serious about it.

She grew up the only daughter of a Car Man who had no sons. It was just Lexie and her father, with her mother dying from a hereditary disease that no one seemed to know was in the family. So she would go to the dealership with him and find marvelous things to do. While some girls were playing with dolls and dressing up, she was in the back seats of cars pretending that she was the Queen of Hewlitt County. The smell of leather, and the slippery new seats intoxicated her. Lexie wasn’t allowed to enter the “shop” area but she managed to sneak back there every now and then. It was there that she would settle and listen to the sounds of engines and watch the greased stained men bending over, sliding under and reaching around the cars brought in for service. And now, as an adult those same sights and smells remained just as intoxicating.

Lexie peeked around the corner and wasn’t shocked to see a man in blue overalls facing her father. She caught her dad’s eye and he nodded his OK for her to come on into the room. At that, Mr. Taylor turned to look at her. She was pleased to see the way his eyebrow raised in mild surprise. So what if she wasn’t what he expected? That had no bearing on her desires. He actually had the gall to look her up and down in a slow perusal.

And then it hit her. And though she wouldn’t admit it she was even more galled.

He was looking at her with mild disinterest rather than the open lust like she was accustomed to. She could swear, if she’d had a tire he would have kicked it to see if she were sturdy. And for some reason, that bothered her more than the gazillion open-lusted looks she had received in the past. Lexie knew she looked good. After all, it wasn’t like she had anything to do with it. She was lucky to have parents with great genes. Her dad always told her how much she looked like her mom, and it made her proud to think that she did, because Mrs. Delores Donovan was a knockout. But here stood Mr. Taylor (and Lexie was thinking that Mr. was going to be the right title for him) looking at her, judging her, and concluding that because she looked like she did, she wasn’t up to this task.

“Sam, this is my daughter, Lexie. Lexie this is Sam Taylor.” She grinned impishly at the stylish S-A-M embroidered over his left pocket.

“Nice to meet you Sam, I look forward to everything you have to teach me.” Lexie gave him her best open-mouthed grin. He nodded then turned right back to her father.

“Are you sure about this Mr. Donovan? It seems like a lot of money to waste.”

“Mr. Taylor, you let me worry about the money and I’ll wager nothing will go to waste.” Lexie seethed. Did he honestly think this was going to be a waste of his precious time? Thank goodness Dad knew her better.

“Well it is your money, Mr. Donovan.” He turned to look at Lexie again. He was nearly smug. The man had just insulted her and yet stood there with a smirk on his face.

“Ms. Donovan....”

“Please call me Lexie.” Just because he was rude didn’t mean she had to be.

“Alright, Lexie I’d like for you to be here tomorrow at 6 A.M. sharp. And, uh ... wear something a little more conducive to bending over an engine compartment.”

She stood sputtering, and Sam Taylor walked out.

“Well gee Dad, what archeological dig did you recover him from?”

“Now Lexie, the man comes highly recommended. He loves cars, and he’s independently wealthy. So let’s not jump to any rash decisions.” She whirled to look at her father, and then quickly threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh Dad, I promise to be good, nothing like that cooking fiasco with Chef What’s His Name.”

“Don’t remind me of that one, Lexie girl. I still get heartburn every time I even think of it. And poor Pierre has thought of giving up cooking all together.”

“Well, I promise I won’t give you or Mr. Taylor heartburn. I do think he might have a little gas though. He seemed to be about to burst from something.” William Donovan groaned and Lexie kissed his cheek, like she’d done a thousand times in the past.

She’d just had sex with that ogre, and ogre was the proper term. He had worked her like a child in a sweatshop for the last six months, as if he was determined to break her. She fought him, scowled at him, raged at him and always in the end, did exactly what he told her to do.

She drank the lemonade; it went down cool and soothing. Her throat was parched, probably from the dry air. She kicked herself. No, the dry throat was more likely from all that open-mouthed moaning she had just been doing, lying over that car. That car! Of course it was that car that had caused this. It was bound to happen, ever since she’d first laid eyes on it. She knew it would be her downfall.

“Oh Dad, it’s the most beautiful car I’ve ever seen.”

“I knew you’d like it Lexie girl.” His wide paternal smile warmed her. How could she not? The sleek curves of a 1950 Regal Champion Studebaker Coupe convertible. Candy apple red, with white leather interior. Split bench front seat, resembling the bucket seats of a newer car. The outer grill was all chrome, as was the bumper, hood ornament and the famous bullet nose. Skirted fenders just covered wide white-walled tires. It was truly classic.

Cars are normally considered female. This car was the epitome of feminine power She looked dreamily at it. It positively oozed sex and sensuality.

“Where did it come from?”

“Doesn’t matter, little lady. All that matters is she was made for you.” She leaped to him and nearly crushed him with her thankful hug. William Donovan would never tire of seeing that infectious grin on his daughter’s face. She wasn’t a materialistic girl but he knew as he had always known that she loved his business. It made him proud.

She hopped into the driver’s seat and turned the key. Nothing happened.

“Oh she needs a little work, Lexie girl but I’m sure Sam won’t mind a bit.” Her enthusiasm was only minutely dulled with the mention of “his” name.

“I want to do the work myself, Dad!”

“And so you shall, little mechanic, but allow Sam to guide you, will you please? For your old man’s sake?”

She grumbled under her breath. The problem was, she knew Sam was the best and this car definitely deserved the best.

“Oh all right, Dad. But I’m only doing it because you asked.” Secretly she knew better, but she wasn’t willing to give in so easily.

Now that beautifully erotic car literally dripped and oozed sex. She burst into laughter. She thought what a wonderful ad campaign that could have been. If sex had been the ad that year, they would have had to produce more than just the 11,000 that they had.

Later, after a nice hot bath, when her entire body was relaxed and feeling fresh, she went looking for her dad. She knew he had plans for a late business dinner and she wanted to catch him before he left. She padded her way through the old farmhouse that had been restored years ago to the more opulent estate it was now. Simplicity had always been her mother’s favorite way to decorate and that theme ran throughout.

She headed for the study and as she approached it, she heard male laughter. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. She recognized her father’s deep belly laugh but wasn’t sure of the other until he spoke.

“Bill, you don’t owe me anything. I was glad to buy that car. As a matter of fact it was the easiest thing I’ve done since I moved here. And it proved to be a very sound investment.” There was no mistaking that low, husky voice of Sam Taylor’s.

“She loves it, simply loves it. Nothing makes me happier than when I can make her that happy.”

“I insist she never know I had anything to do with it Bill.”

“I’m not sure I understand your motives, but I’m willing to respect your wishes, Sam.”

She stood frozen. That beautiful, sexy car had come from Sam? But why!? Until earlier she had thought he hated her. He merely tolerated her because he had to. And what could he have possibly meant by it being a sound investment? Had he used that car to have sex with her? She began to fume. She burst through the door into the study. Both men looked at her. One with the patience of Job and fatherly love, and the other with open lust and mild annoyance.

“I want to know why you bought that car.” She didn’t even pretend she hadn’t heard their private discussion.

“When you listen through keyholes,” Sam said, “you’re bound to hear things you’d rather you didn’t.” He leaned against the mantle of the fireplace and stared into the fire as he spoke.

Bill looked at the two of them. He recognized that chemical attraction. He’d had it once with Lexie’s mother. He doubted either of them would own up to it, but the air was charged with it.

“I think I’ll leave you two to hash this out for yourselves. I’ve got a long night of credits and debits to unravel.” He walked from the room and gently closed the doors behind him. He smiled with mild amusement. They reminded him so much of himself and Lexie’s mom when they had first met. He the struggling new owner of a car dealership that had come to him accidentally; and she, the would-be owner of one of his cars. There was no denying chemistry when it hit. No matter who you were or where you came from.

“Why did you buy that car?” She angled herself so he’d have to face her. Not that she thought he wouldn’t, but she was going to have answers.

“I bought it because it reminded me of you.” The compliment of the statement caused her to waver a bit, but she was too stubborn to admit it.

“What is that suppose to mean?”

“You know as well as I do that car is classy and sleek and beautiful and when it’s taken care of correctly, purrs like a kitten.” He still refused to look at her directly. She knew it was not from shyness, but rather some way to infuriate her. She decided not to let it.

“Is that some coy reference to your sexual prowess earlier?”

“You did purr.”

“I did not purr”

“Oh woman, you purred all right.”

“Too bad we didn’t have sex six months ago, you wouldn’t have had to buy a car and we could have avoided all the slave-driver routine.” She was being flippant now and she knew it. But it didn’t stop her.

“Six months ago, I thought you were a spoiled ‘little daddy’s girl’.”

“Oh and when did you so graciously change your mind? Or have you?”

“Hmm ... about five months and twenty-nine days ago.” The bluster went out of her ire as he continued. “Lexie, you showed up promptly at 6 A.M. With your hair pulled back, no make-up, with your nails trimmed and unpolished. I guessed then that you meant business, and your months of hard work and determination proved it to be true.”

“Then why on Earth the plantation overseer routine?”

“There was no routine, Lexie. I never once expected anything from you that I wasn’t willing to do as well, it’s just who I am.”

She knew he was right. Yes, she worked hard; countless hours tearing apart engines only to put them back together again. But he had always been right there with her. Lifting when she couldn’t, and being a third hand when it was needed. Teaching what she was so eager to learn.

“On the other hand, you have a devil-may-care attitude, Lexie, and the garage can be a dangerous place.”

“You say that like itís a bad thing.” He’d moved closer to her and his proximity caused her voice to catch in her throat. His face was inches from hers, and in a hushed whisper, he breathed the words against her face.

“There’s a time and a place for everything.” He was utterly masculine. He wore the smell of the garage like some men wore $80 cologne. Her nostrils opened to inhale the pheromone scent. She didn’t back away. Instead she moved closer and allowed her jutting breasts to defiantly graze his chest.

“And what time is it now Mr. Taylor?” She looked up at him through thick lashes, coyly.

“Time for another lesson, I should think.” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her mouth to his. Pressing his lips fervently into hers. There was no gentleness from either of them. Six months of working side by side with raw emotions always right beneath the surface fueled them.

They began pawing and clawing and pulling and grabbing. Kissing wildly until lips were swollen and chapped. Breathing so hard that they were one step from hyperventilating. They pulled apart, gasping for air. Lexie remembered where they were and she grabbed his hand.

“Come on. Let’s go for a ride.”

They entered the garage, and the Studebaker sat bathed in the moonlight shining through the windows. It was as if the moon were paying homage to a beautiful goddess from a different time. Lexie walked over to the machine and ran her hands along the polished frame, walking along towards the front of the car where she had lain earlier in the day. The scene replayed in her mind.

The car was finished. She and Sam had put many hours into the engine. The generator was the first thing to rebuild, followed by the fuel pump and finally removing and replacing the pitted points in the distributor. It was worth it. Sam had finished the last little adjustments while she had gone to a luncheon. He stood before her, in the familiar overalls and covered with the evidence of their work.

He handed her the key and she hopped inside. She started it, and listened to the engine turn over like a brand new car. And it settled down, purring like a kitten awakening from a long sleep, hungry and eager to be alive. She leapt out of the car and ran to Sam, throwing her arms around him in a moment of uninhibited enthusiasm.

Hugging him started to be just excitement about their shared goal being met. Sam reacted instinctively and wrapped his arms around her. Then squeezed. Neither could be certain what emotions took center stage next.

Long seconds of hugging and then impassioned looks, followed by grappling and groping until their needs were explosive. Lexie said, “Please,” and Sam complied.

And now here they were again, only this time, in the moonlight, Lexie’s feelings were more defined. She confessed to herself that her desires for this man had been multiplying over the months of working right next to him. It was exhilarating, at last, to recognize those desires.

Sam knew for a long time that he wanted this woman. She was everything he had hoped for but had given up finding. Her natural beauty paled compared to her spirit, determination, and her overall zest for life. He watched her now as she moved slowly along the car, fingers grazing the finish like it was velvet. She stopped at the bullet nose and began circling it. Around and around. Slow, measured revolutions. Her movements became rhythmic and exaggerated. He was hypnotized. She appeared to be masturbating the car. Faster and faster until he expected to see some quickening in the vehicle. Her words cut into the seductive tension that surrounded them.

“Sam, did you know if you straddle the nose, it puts pressure on the juncture that it meets, especially when there’s added pressure from behind?” She spoke softly, bewitchingly, like a sorceress wooing her victim.

“I hadn’t thought of it.” His words came out short and choppy.

Lexie felt in command. In command of her life, in command of her emotions, and in command of the situation.

“Up for a ride?” She purposefully used the double entendre.

He didn’t speak. Instead he moved to open the car door for her, and she slipped into the luxurious leather seat behind the wheel. The engine hummed with the turn of the key. Sam eased himself into the passenger seat beside her. Lexie wasn’t sure if it was the mood, or the way things had progressed today or if it was just because she felt empowered but she turned to him and without a word, kissed him.

Sam wasn’t nearly as surprised as he was thankful. His arms embraced her, and the kissing began. Hungry kisses. Eager kisses. Hot, slippery and wet kisses. Tongue-sucking kisses, kisses that engulfed the other’s mouth while hands began to fumble with snaps and buckles and buttons. The flourish of activity never halted the kissing.

Kissing and more kissing, disguising what the hands were doing until their naked skin touched the leather seat.

Lexie continued her bold movements and with an uncontested shove, pushed Sam back against the seat and mounted him. She reached between them and wrapped her hand around his shaft, sweeping along the slit until she breached her opening. His penis keenly found it’s way inside. When she removed her hand all slick with her own juices, she brought it to his mouth. Sam lapped at it.

She rocked against him, pressing her pelvis as firmly against him as she could. Sam wiggled his hand in between and mimicked the masturbating movement she had used on the chromed bullet nose. Lexie reached her arms around him and held on to the seat behind him. She began to grind against his hand.

Sam could feel as she swelled towards orgasm. Her cunt so warm and wet, contracted around his cock. He could feel the depths of her vagina, and it was heaven. Her moans of pleasure muffled along his neck as she rode him.

And she rode him hard.

She stifled a scream as she was wracked with climactic convulsions. He felt the oozing of heated liquid as it seeped from her onto him. He grabbed her then, arms tightly around her back, clenched, as he began to buck up into her. Forcing them both up and then down. He tightened, and with his strength pushed the breath from her as he climbed his way to orgasmic completion.

Spiraling down towards awareness, their bodies limply clung to one another, the sound of the car whirring beneath them the only sound of life.

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