The Garage

I've always enjoyed making puns. To me, they symbolize a quick mind, able to look at things from many different perspectives.

I had no idea that this enjoyment would lead to my 'pun'ishment.

It started the day my car's headlight burned out. With no idea where to go to get it fixed, I asked my friend, Paget. She recommended a place, so I drove my car over there, and met one of the mechanics, Mike. He was a nice, hunky sort of a guy, with sandy blond hair, and sparkling green eyes. More importantly, he had a good sense of humor, and seemed to enjoy my puns.

Weeks later, I brought my flat tire to him, telling him my car needed to be 're-tired'. Instead of groaning at this outrageous pun, he laughed. That day, I also met Chuck, another good-looking mechanic. His hair was raven black, and his eyes were the deepest brown. I liked both of them, and started hanging out at the garage, sharing jokes, and bringing them snacks. I never wanted to distract them from their work, so sometimes I just sat quietly and watched their competent movements. They didn't seem to mind this silent admiration. They even gave me the nickname 'Kitten' like I was the garage mascot, or something.

My admiration led to fantasizing, I must admit. When I was in my bed, finding that sleep was elusive, I'd diddle myself into an orgasm, whose release would then let me drift off to sleep. During these times, I found myself imagining that Mike was fingering me, or maybe Chuck. I imagined their lusty expressions as their hands did things to me down there, and it was like some orgasmic switch was being flipped in my core. But when I was really with them, I never let on to either of them how my feelings were growing, other than dressing a little sexy, sort of eye candy to lighten their day.

When my car was making horrible noises, the guy at the car dealership gave me an estimate of close to a thousand dollars to fix it. There was no way I could afford that, so I took my car to the garage, instead. Chuck and Mike examined it, and told me all it needed was a twenty dollar part, which Mike installed in less than half an hour, and only charged me $25 in labor costs. Their open honesty made me love and trust these guys.

One day, I was looking at the empty rack that they used to lift cars, and a pun popped into my mind. "Hey Mike," I said, "this is a service station, so if I got onto that rack, would you guys have to service me?"

Instead of merely groaning, or even laughing, Mike did a slow scan of my body with those twinkling eyes and replied, "We could probably inspect your chassis, check your points, check your oil, and lube any parts that need it, sure." Turning to his partner, he said, "Isn't that right, Chuck?"

Chuck smiled a lazy smile and said, "I'm sure she's overdue for her checkup."

At first, I thought they were going along with my joke, bombarding me with a series of their own followup puns. But their eyes were beaming what felt like a tiny bit of lust, and their voices sounded sincere.

The day was a hot one, so I was wearing an off the shoulder purple belly shirt, and jean shorts to keep cool. But when I heard those words, the room temperature seemed to rise 10 degrees. They had to be kidding around, so I replied, "So you think my chassis needs an inspection?"

"I'm not trying to worry you," Mike assured me, smiling. "Everything on the surface looks fine. But it's always better to be safe than sorry - you never know what an in-depth inspection might reveal."

Wondering how far they'd stretch this joke, I rebutted, "That sounds like an expensive suggestion. How much would all this cost?"

Mike and Chuck exchanged a long look, both rubbing their chins in thought. Silently reaching an agreement, Chuck answered, "Since you're our favorite customer, and you brought us all those snacks and brightened our lonely days, we're willing to waive our customary fee. For you, Kitten - free."

I was finally coming to the realization that they weren't kidding. I stared at these two great-looking studs, and tried to keep my mouth from drooling. I knew what their chests and abs looked like - in the heat, they often took their shirts off. And those chests were sculpted muscles, and those abs were washboard rippled. The two men wanted me, and I wanted them also - badly. As I said, I'd fantasized about both of them, at one time or another, but was so shy I could only flirt.

Playing along, I said, "Free, huh? Well, that's very sweet of you." Glancing at their workbench, I inquired, "What tools would you need for this job, do you think?" My voice had taken on a flirty quality, and my body language was displaying great interest.

Mike's smile increased, if that's possible. He pointed at his eyes, saying, "These." He held up his hands, moving his fingers in delicate movements to catch my attention. "These," he said. His hands went down to his groin and he added, "And this, of course."

My eyes widened in mock surprise. "You carry a tool around down there?" I asked, innocently.

"Why, yes," he answered. "We both do. But we only use this sort of tool on very special jobs. Weeks can go by without calling it into use."

"Oh? So you've not used it in a while?" I asked.

He shook his head slowly, grinning from ear to ear. Chuck added, "Mine's been idle for too long. When you have a good tool, it's best to use it on a regular basis, to remain skilled with it."

"And, I'm guessing if your tools remain idle too long, there's the danger they might get rusty, just sitting on the bench," I stated, concerned. "Or they'll get dusty or something." I paused. "Maybe you'd better let me have a look at those tools, to see what shape they're in."

Both men looked at each other, eyebrows raised in inquiry. Finally, they nodded, and began unbuckling their belts. Moments later, they pulled down the front of their work pants, plus the underpants beneath them, and displayed two generous helpings of manhood - semi-rigid cocks, sprouting from beds of pubic hair - sandy brown for Mike, and dark black for Chuck.

I stared, mouth starting to water.

Shaking myself, I stated, "They seem to be in fine shape. I don't see a speck of dust or rust on either of them."

"You sure?" Chuck asked. "You're way over there. Maybe you should look more closely."

My knees felt weak as I strolled in what I hope was a casual manner over to where he stood. I leaned in so close that I'm sure his cock felt my warm breath each time I exhaled. I turned my head slowly, looking at it from both sides and top. "Everything looks good," I assured him.

"Are you positive?" Chuck asked. Boldly, he lifted his cock by its bulbous head, giving me an intimate view of not only its underside, but also his large testicles, shifting inside his scrotum.

Gathering my courage, I said, "Wait a minute! I think there may indeed be something wrong. I don't think this part of the tool should be so swollen."

Chuck looked down, his expression one of slight worry. "What? Where? Show me, please!"

I reached out and gently lifted his balls with my fingertips. "These," I pointed out, touching each with my thumb as they nestled on my fingers.

"Oh! Those," he sighed with relief. "Actually, they're probably a bit larger than they should be, but they're self adjusting when the tool is put into proper use."

"That's fascinating," I stated, smiling. Not wanting Mike to feel left out, I turned to him, asking, "Is that part of your tool swollen, as well?"

Grinning and raising a suggestive brow, Mike said, "I can't tell from way up here. You'd better check for me."

Feeling more comfortable with the way things were progressing, I sauntered over, leaned in close, and actually lifted Mike's cock shaft up, to peer at his balls. I heard him hiss a sharp intake of breath as I touched his cock for the first time, and he jerked up slightly as I lifted his balls in my hand. After giving them each a gentle rub, I said, "Well, I'm no expert, but I think that they might be puffy, too."

"Great," he sighed. "Thanks for checking. That means our tools are quite ready for the upcoming job. So, do you want us to get to work?"

Suddenly, I felt shy again. Scuffing my shoe slowly on the floor, looking down, rather than into their eyes, I whispered, "I'd really like to make sure everything is in tip top shape. You know, properly lubed, fluids checked, tires rotated, spark gap adjusted - the works. But just anyone might walk in from the street."

Mike immediately understood my apprehension. "Oh! I forgot to tell you," he informed me. "When we do this special inspection, we close the shop, so we can concentrate, giving it our full attention. Does that reassure you?"

I swallowed, trying to wet my dry mouth. "Yes," I whispered. "I think that would help."

Pulling the front of his pants back up, Mike went to the solid garage door, pulling it down, and securing it. He went to the office, locked the outside door, flipped its sign to 'Closed', and then re-entered the garage, closing the inner door behind him. We three were alone, enclosed in the brightly lit garage.

My body was vibrating inside, as I watched the two men approach me. "How does this inspection start?" I managed to choke out without my voice squeaking.

The men glanced at each other. "We should check under the hood, first," Chuck said. Mike nodded agreement. They took hold of the lower edge of my belly shirt, and began lifting it, slowly. I think they were watching to see if I'd yell 'Stop!' or maybe slap their hands away. I didn't. I wasn't wearing a bra, so the rising material slid up over my nipples, making them react. They'd been about half swollen from our sexy banter, but now they were engorging so much they felt like they wanted to pop!

They did 'pop' - they popped into view as the material finally rose up high enough to fully uncover them. "Geez," I thought. "These two guys haven't even touched my skin yet, and I'm already creaming in my jeans!"

"These spark plugs of hers look like their in tip top shape," Chuck stated, as he grasped my right nipple in his powerful, but gentle, hand.

"I agree," Mike said, taking my left nipple in his own grasp. They began rolling my sensitive nubs back and forth, back and forth, while I moaned my appreciation at finally being touched. My perky nipples raised up even higher, making the areolae around them crinkle with delight. In their own way, they were demanding more of such attention.

"Do you think the spark gap is right?" Mike asked.

Chuck pulled out his gauge. They pulled my nipples together at the center of my chest, and rubbed them sensuously against one another. Internal sparks flew from my nipple tips to my groin. Chuck inserted the gauge between them, and the two men briefly rubbed my inflamed nipples against the cool metal. "The gap is perfect," Chuck concluded.

"Yes," Mike agreed. "But it looks like her spark plugs haven't been properly polished in a while. Time to do some maintenance." Before I knew it, two warm mouths engulfed the tips of my tits - areolae and all - and began sucking and licking my erogenous skin. The sparks became explosions that raced from my tits to my cunt. This was far better than anything I'd fantasized. My cunt exploded in its own glorious orgasm. My jeans were instantly soaked.

"Uh oh!" Chuck exclaimed. "We've got some fluids leaking from somewhere. We'd better check the trunk and the undercarriage. Saying this, he unsnapped and unzipped my jeans. He quickly stripped them, plus my panties, down my legs and out from under my feet, as I stepped out of my sandals. Meanwhile, Mike whipped my belly shirt up and off. I felt cool air on my skin, especially my wet pussy, as I stood naked before them now.

"I think we'd better get her up on the rack for a better look," Mike suggested. He was referring to the platform on which they lifted cars, to more easily work on their undercarriages. This sounded amazingly kinky to me, and after all, it was what I'd suggested at the start of all this, so I made no protest.

The lifts were constructed in an 'H' shape, and they led me to the smaller one, used for foreign cars. Chuck spread a clean, soft cloth over the center part, and he and Mike helped me get face down, with my belly on the cloth, and my tits, arms and head hanging forward off of it, while my pelvis and legs hung backward from the center.

Mike activated the lift power, which hissed as air pressure started raising the apparatus. I saw the garage floor falling away as my body went up about a foot. I was struggling slightly, trying to brace my arms and legs on the 'H's arms.

Chuck called out, "Whoa! We'd better attach the safety harness. We don't want her rolling off."

As my mind was busy trying to process the words 'safety harness' I felt a rope being tied to my wrist by Chuck. A similar rope was being attached to my ankle, I assumed by Mike, but I couldn't see very well, dangling as I was. A few minutes later, I was securely tied to the lift by my wrist, arms, legs and ankles. My hands and feet were still free of any bindings. If it had been anyone else, I might have panicked, but I knew I could trust them, so all this did to me was arouse me even more. I was ready for the 'inspection' to continue. The lift was raised so that I was just above their heads.

I giggled as they got their bright work lamps, and walked around under me, shining the light up so they could carefully inspect my chassis. They didn't just look, they also touched, running their hands over all my exposed skin. These gliding strokes were a real turn-on. They were doing this so fluidly, that I suspected that I wasn't the first woman that had been on this rack for an inspection and overhaul, but I didn't mind one bit. What they were doing appealed to my sense of 'pun'ish humor.

My 'brake pads' - the soles of my feet and the palms of my hands - were checked for wear. I'd no idea that such a check normally involved kissing and licking, but that's what they did. I never knew what erogenous zones my feet were, prior to this. But soon I was moaning.

Apparently, my tits now became my 'headlights' because Chuck was examining their alignment, pressing them this way and that, explaining, "For safety, we need to be certain the beams from these converge at the proper distance." Pressing in on my turgid nipples, and then letting them pop back out, he confirmed, "Your high beams are functioning within specs." Groaning happily, I could've told him that myself.

Undercarriage check complete, I was lowered to about the level of their shoulders. "Did you check the pressure in her rear tires?" Chuck asked Mike.

"Just doing that now," Mike replied. I felt his hands grasping my ass cheeks and squeezing them, feeling their resilience. "Adding a little pressure to the rear left," he continued.

I shrieked as a blast of compressed air shot from the hose they used for their air tools, washing over my left ass cheek. It didn't hurt or anything - it just caught me by surprise. It's a good thing I was tied to the lift, because the reflexive jerk of my body might've toppled me off.

"May as well make sure her mud flaps are clean," Mike muttered. Another blast of compressed air coursed along the edges of my labia! This blast was prolonged, and I could feel my pussy lips fluttering in the strong air turbulence. I wasn't too happy about hearing them referred to as 'mud flaps', but the sensuous feelings the air produced down there captured my attention, dispelling what little annoyance I might've felt. I believe my toes curled in delight before Mike turned off the blast.

The two guys changed places, Mike coming up to my face, and Chuck going down toward my legs. "I need to check your windshield wipers," Mike informed me. "Blink several times, please."

Bemused, I did as I was told, lowering and raising my eyelids, which were obviously the 'wipers' for my windshield. "Excellent," he reported. Lifting my upper lip and lowering my lower lip, he looked at my teeth. "Just having a look at your grille," he explained. I smiled in reply, and was rewarded with a smoldering kiss that lasted a good long while, but not nearly long enough.

I gasped into Mike's mouth as I felt my ass cheeks grasped and stretched to each side by powerful hands. As our kiss ended, I called out, "What are you doing, Chuck?"

"Checking your exhaust system, of course," he replied with a tone of voice that conveyed a grin that I couldn't see. He poked and prodded my ass hole with a careful finger, making me squirm in my restraints. "I don't see any obvious cracks or signs of corrosion, but will you bring the light here, Mike?"

Mike disappeared toward my legs, carrying the work lamp. When he switched it on, I could feel its heat on my ass cheeks. Someone's hands stretched my ass cheeks even wider apart, obviously dilating my anal ring. I could imagine both men peering deep into this forbidden, naughty opening, and I blushed red hot with embarrassment. I knew now that by the time this 'inspection' was completed, my body would hold no secrets from them. And perversely, as I got used to that idea, I relaxed, letting them have their way with me. I was game for anything now.

Mike whistled as I relaxed, saying, "Wow. Look how that exhaust opened up! Let me fetch some calipers." I laughed silently as the men solemnly used calipers to measure the size of my ass hole, muttering the various size readings. This was getting even more kinky and perverted, to my growing enjoyment. I was emerging from my shell of shyness under these attentions.

Chuck said to Mike, "Check her ignition switch, will ya?"

Moments later, when Mike's fingertip pressed on my swollen clit, I barked out, "OMG!" and jerked in the ropes that held me in place. "Ignition switch at 100%," Mike reported. His fingertip started making lazy circles on the flesh surrounding the base of my clit, which made his finger glide around and around my clit shaft, rubbing its sides. I growled and moaned as the stimulation built and built. "Her engine's running smooth, too," Mike added.

I moaned in frustration when he removed his finger. Both of them came around in front of me again.

"I don't know about you, Mike, but I'm getting too hot, doing this work today," Chuck mentioned.

Mike said, "Don't stand on ceremony then. Strip off. I will, too, so you don't feel weird."

Wide-eyed, I watched those two gorgeous hunks start to undress. Shirts came off, revealing the chests and abs that I knew so well. This was followed by the removal of their pants. Their cocks I'd seen minutes earlier, so this part of them was not completely new, although the cocks looked bigger now. But as they stepped out of their pants, and turned to put their clothes on a workbench, I got my first look at their butts. Tight, firm, with muscles flexing under the skin as they moved, those butts made me want to sink my teeth into them. But I could only stare. And drool.

"Oops," Chuck exclaimed. "Looks like we might have a small leak from her radiator. We'd better check her fluid levels with our special dip sticks. I'll take the front, and you take the rear." Mike lowered the lift until my body was about the level of their waists.

Chuck stepped up to my face, and carefully inserted his dick into my mouth. I wanted that dick so badly, that I tilted my head, and opened my throat as best I could. Cross-eyed, I watched his belly move closer and closer to my face as his cock slid into my throat. I blinked when I felt his black, curly pubic hair touch my nose. His whole cock was in me!

He pulled it back out, and as I sucked a grateful breath, he used his finger to indicate how far my saliva went along his dick. "Radiator's completely full," he called out.

Next, I felt Mike's cock slip into my cunt. I was lubing like mad from all this sexy attention, so he slid in with little resistance. My gasp of pleasure emerged as I felt his sandy blond pubic hair brush my ass cheeks, and his ball sack touch my cunt lips. He'd buried himself fully in me. But he didn't stay. He pulled back out, and must've checked how far my juices smeared his cock, because he reported, "Rear fluids at capacity as well."